Title: Walk Away
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 2
Prompt: 19, Exhausted
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones, the Tenth Doctor, or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

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Dear Jack,

I don't know why I'm writing you this letter, as I doubt you'll ever see it. Perhaps I'm just looking for a way to pass the time, to keep myself awake even though I know that I should stumble to bed and close my eyes for a few hours. I don't know why I'm pushing myself to write this, when there's really no reason.

No reason other than to let you know how much I miss you. And how much I need you with me, here by my side. It's strange how I never seem to be able to say that until you're far away from me, and I don't know if I'll ever see you again.

When you chose to stay on Earth with Torchwood, locked into the 21st century, I was angry. I'll be the first to admit that my actions towards you at the time were wrong. I shouldn't have left you in anger; I should have accepted your choice, and realised that you were only doing what you felt was right for you.

But I couldn't see that at the time. I felt angry, hurt and betrayed. Here was the one person who had ever been in my life who could give me the forever I've always so desperately wanted, turning their back on me and deciding to live a life without me being a part of it. I don't think anything in my life -- any of my lives -- has ever hurt as much as that did.

That's happened so many times before, Jack. So many people have walked away, saying that they regretted it but not really meaning their words. In truth, they were grateful to go back to their lives. Yes, they were fond of me, but none of them were willing to give me forever. They may have said that they wanted to, but deep in their hearts, they couldn't do it.

I shouldn't hold that against anyone. I'm an anomaly, the last of my kind, and I can't expect anyone to sacrifice what is a very brief life span to make me happy. I should have long ago learned to accept that I'll never have forever from anyone.

But you .... you were the one person I've ever known who could have given me that, you with your extended life span, your inability to die. You could have stayed with me through both of our lives. We could have grown older together, and I wouldn't have felt so alone and unwanted. I thought you wanted that as much as I did.

I couldn't bear seeing you turn your back on me. So I left, with resentment still smouldering inside me. I shouldn't have left things on that level, and I know that now. I should have stayed and explained how I felt, talked it all out with you. Perhaps then it wouldn't have taken me so long to come to terms with your feelings.

I've spent far too much time looking at your decision as a betrayal. I've been selfish, Jack, and I freely admit that. I'm ashamed of myself for how I've felt, and what I've done. But I can't go back and change that. I've long since learned the folly of playing with time, and I won't do it again -- not even to assuage my own pain.

There hasn't been a day -- or night -- since I left that I haven't wanted you back by my side. But I've been too proud to come back to you and say so. That's my own weakness, not any fault of yours. And it's something I'll have to live with.

I'm all too aware that the time for apologies has long since passed. I only hope that you can forgive me for seemingly turning my back on you. I never meant to do that. I never meant to hurt you. Well, no, that's not quite true. When I left and vowed never to see you again, I did want to hurt you as badly as you'd hurt me.

I hope I didn't succeed in that, Jack. I don't want you to feel what I've felt. I don't want you to think that I could ever harbour ill feelings towards you.

When I do come back to you, I may give you this letter. And I may not. I don't know exactly what I'll do -- but I do know that I won't ask you to come back to me. The time for that is long passed, as well, and you've made your choice. I may not be entirely resigned to that, but I do accept your decision, and I'll live with it.

That's not meant to make you feel guilty. I simply want you to know that there will always be a small spark of hope within me that you may tire of Torchwood, that it may all become too much for you, and you'll want to be back with me. When and if that does happen, you will always have a place with me. That I can assure you of.

What's between us won't die, no matter how much we both may try to deny that. We can turn our backs on it, we can stay away from each other -- but something in us will always come back. I've already come to the conclusion that I can't stay away from you.

I'm tired, Jack. Exhausted. Tired of going through each day thinking of you and wishing that you were here. Tired of feeling empty and knowing that the best part of my life is no longer with me. Tired of regretting all the things I could have said and never did. Tired of wishing that I could have those chances back again.

If I had you back with me, would I be able to say those things? I hope so. I hope that I wouldn't be as blind and that I wouldn't take your presence for granted the way I did when you were here. I never realised just how much I would miss you so much -- until you were no longer here. That's my own stupidity.

I'll be back in your time, back on Earth, sooner than you might think. There have been so many times that I've come there, and held myself back from going to you. My own pride -- and the resentment that's still simmering somewhere in me -- kept me from doing that. But I'm letting go of that pride. It's ridiculous to hold on any longer.

The first thing I'll do when I'm on Earth again is come to you. I know it will be a surprise; you may have made your own peace with not seeing me again. I may not be welcome in your life. But I have to clear the air between us. I can't be there and stay away from you.

All I can do is hope that your feelings for me haven't changed -- and that you can forgive me for leaving the way I did. If you don't, well, that's also your choice. And yes, I know that I brought it on myself. I won't blame you if that's how you feel.

We have a lot to talk about. It's far past time that we both were able to close the door on a part of our lives that's over -- or open a door into a new future.

Always,

The Doctor

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