Epilogue – "Always and Never Alone"

When Jack woke up, he found himself in his own bed, tucked under blankets, warm and comfortable. The last thing he remembered was a jumble of pain and burning and falling and joy, but before that was a hazy memory of the Doctor looking at him with tears in his eyes, then kissing him full on the lips. And afterwards the whisper of a voice, the Doctor's voice, speaking – or had it been singing, ever so quietly? – in a language unlike any he'd ever heard before. Must've been a dream. But it had been so vivid. Something was niggling at him, though, a persistent sense of having lost something valuable and yet having gained something so much more precious in return.

Death. He sat bolt upright. He could die now. Well, not now, but he would one day. One day there'd be a death that he wouldn't wake from. A brief chill passed through him, but he shrugged it off, set morbid thoughts aside. For now and the foreseeable future, his life would go on as it had before.

He started to get out of bed and belatedly realized how weak he was. His legs trembled and gave out, depositing him back on the bed with a thump. "Okay," he said to himself. "Let's try that again, a little more slowly." This time, he managed to stand up and stay up. He took a moment to steady himself, then carefully dressed and pulled himself step by weary step up the ladder and out of his sleeping space. He was gasping for air by the time he got to the top of the stairs. Apparently becoming mortal again took a bit out of a person.

He shuffled over to his desk and collapsed into the chair, taking a moment to catch his breath. He glanced down into the Hub, but didn't see anyone there. "Where the hell is everyone?" he muttered. He pulled his phone over to him and started going through every extension in the Hub. His frustration grew with each unanswered call. Was this some kind of joke?

Then he heard the blast door rolling open and turned to look out the window facing the workspaces. Ianto and Gwen were coming up the stairs, Ianto carrying two pizza boxes and Gwen with a shopping tote. Jack thought about charging out at them and giving them a piece of his mind, but it seemed that even standing up at the moment would be a challenge. Instead, he sat there fuming until Ianto noticed him sitting at the desk and gave him a little wave. Jack glared. Ianto and Gwen looked at each and laughed.

"You're right," Gwen said, the amusement in her voice carrying over to Jack. "He is cranky when he wakes up."

They cheerfully entered his office, bringing the pizza and what must be drinks because Gwen's tote was making familiar clinking sounds. His stomach growled at the smell of cheese and pepperoni and his mouth began watering at the prospect of some Guinness to wash it down, but mentally he told both of them to shut the hell up. He was busy being angry.

"Where the hell is everyone?" He repeated his earlier question, keeping his voice controlled and resisting the urge to add more force and volume. The quiet and menacing approach always worked better than yelling in his experience. Not that he thought anyone would be particularly daunted by him at the moment. His hair must be sticking out in a million directions and his mouth felt like something had crawled in there and died.

"Well," Gwen said, setting the tote down on Jack's desk. "I'm here, you're there, Ianto's there, obviously." She pointed to each of them in turn. Ianto had set the pizza boxes down and was pulling paper plates and serviettes out of the tote. "Sara's at home. Have I left anyone out?"

"The Doctor. Where's the Doctor?" Jack said impatiently. "And I seem to recall that Martha was here as well," he added sarcastically.

"Oh. They left," Ianto replied. "Together. In the TARDIS. Rather abruptly. Or at least we assume they did because we haven't seen either one since, and the TARDIS is gone, so…" His face scrunched into a frown. "Should we be worried?"

Jack pressed his lips together in frustration, then forced himself to take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. He wasn't surprised that the Doctor had stolen away, but he was somewhat taken aback by the fact that Martha had gone with him. She must've been worried about him, after all he'd been through. "Did he seem okay to you?" The question was a bit reluctant and hesitant, but he needed to know.

Ianto raised his eyebrows and tilted his head thoughtfully. "I suppose. I didn't get much of a look at him. I was a bit more concerned about what he'd done to you, which I'm still not certain of. All he said was that you'd be fine after some sleep." Ianto obviously wanted to know more, but he didn't press. He knew Jack very well indeed.

Gwen must've sensed some tension in the short silence that followed because she put in, "And did you ever sleep! It's been a week today. I think Ianto would've stayed by your bedside the entire time, but the snoring finally drove him away." She winked at Ianto, and he looked at Jack and shrugged his shoulders.

Jack bypassed the snoring comment. He didn't snore. They were obviously having him on about that. "A week? Really?" He rubbed at his face. No beard, not even any stubble.

Ianto gestured at his chin and said, "I took care of that. Beards really don't suit you. Do they, Gwen?"

"No, definitely not. Much better to have a baby face to match the baby blues."

"Oh, that's very funny," Jack said, grabbing at the opportunity to divert both of them from any further questions about what had passed between him and the Doctor. He really didn't want to talk about it just yet. He needed time to process what had happened. "I might even manage to laugh if you give me some of that pizza. And there'd better not be any pineapple with the pepperoni."

"Oops." Ianto smiled sheepishly, but Gwen nudged him with her elbow.

"Ianto, don't tease the poor man. After all, he was so cute and sweet when we got him to sleepwalk down that ridiculous ladder into that pit he calls a bedroom. All stumbling and mumbling, and then he curled up clutching his pillow like a baby."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a comment," Jack said sternly.

"Then perhaps I shouldn't mention the drooling," Ianto said dryly.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Jack protested. "I do not drool or snore or clutch at my pillow like a baby!"

Gwen and Ianto looked at each other, obviously suppressing laughs, then Ianto cleared his throat and looked at Jack very seriously as he said, "Very well, then. We'll allow 'The World According to Jack Harkness' to reign for the moment."

Jack feigned a growl, then demanded, "Pizza. Now. And that'd better be Guinness in that bag."

"Ooh, I love it when you get all forceful," Ianto said, and did he actually bat his eyes? He did produce the Guinness from the depths of the shopping tote, though.

Gwen snorted. "I'll just be taking my pizza," she said as she opened one of the boxes and deposited two slices on a plate and tossed a couple of serviettes on top of them. "And my Guinness," she continued as she snagged a bottle. "And I'm leaving now." She paused at the door, though, and turned back with a smile and a shake of her head. "Incorrigible, the two of you. You're meant for each other."

After she'd gone, Ianto gave Jack a smug look. "Did you hear that? 'Meant for each other.'"

Jack rolled his eyes. "I'm far too old for that kind of romantic crap, but you go ahead and wallow in it if you like."

Ianto smiled and said with a twinkle in his eye, "I do so love to wallow. Now, eat."

"You sound like Martha," Jack grumbled as he leaned over and selected the largest slice of pizza.

"Yes, well, I have a feeling she might hold me responsible if she returns and finds you in less than optimal condition." He gave a slight grimace as he added, "And I certainly don't want the Doctor to take issue either. I'd rather not have that sonic screwdriver anywhere near me."

Jack couldn't help but laugh heartily, and it felt ridiculously good.

A few hours later, Gwen had gone home for the evening and Ianto was in Jack's bed, snoring, drooling, and clutching the pillow like a baby. Jack had no interest in more sleep, though, so he'd taken a shower and changed into a clean set of his usual trousers, shirt and braces. He was taking a stroll around the Hub, working the last of the kinks and aches out of his body after so long lying in bed during the past week, when he heard a familiar sound – the TARDIS rematerializing. He looked around, the acoustics in the huge, open space making it difficult to pinpoint the source of the sound, but he quickly caught sight of the familiar blue police box sitting square on top of the concrete platform of the hidden lift.

The door squeaked open and the Doctor appeared. He gave a quick wave and said absently, "Hello, Jack," then hopped down the short distance to the floor and crouched down to peer under the TARDIS. "Did you know you cut the concrete two millimeters two small?"

"I'd say two millimeters is pretty damn impressive," Jack replied, "considering we couldn't detect the exact edges of the perception field and were working from my estimate of the TARDIS's size." He eyed the Doctor carefully as he spoke, but he seemed to be moving about with his usual restless energy.

"Not bad as far as guesses go, I suppose." The Doctor was running a finger along the bottom edge of the TARDIS, still not looking directly at Jack, which concerned him a bit. Had restoring the Doctor's connection to Time brought back his sense of Jack's Wrongness in full force? "This will bring the effect of the perception field back up to full strength at any rate. It was starting to fade."

"Oh. I thought I was just getting used to it. Thanks." His tone was flat and his words uncertain. He wasn't quite sure what to expect here.

The Doctor finally stood up and smiled at Jack, but he couldn't be quite certain if it was genuine or forced. The Doctor's voice didn't sound strained, and his face actually looked more relaxed than Jack had seen it had in a long time. He looked closely for some sort of crack in the facade, but he couldn't find one. For the moment, he seemed relatively calm and at peace.

The smile partially faded off the Doctor's face. "Well?" he said, a bit of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Aren't you going to say anything? You're not angry with me for leaving without saying goodbye, are you? I couldn't exactly give you a proper goodbye when you were unconscious."

Just then, Martha appeared from inside the TARDIS, a rucksack slung over her shoulder. "Right," she said. "I think I've got everything now. You forgot this on the console, by the way." She handed him something small and silver. The Doctor took the object and held it towards Jack. He automatically put his hand out and stared at the small, metallic cube the Doctor deposited there.

"You said you wanted that back," the Doctor muttered offhandedly, then turned back to Martha. "Martha, Jack seems to think I should've said goodbye to him when he was unconscious. Tell him there was no point in saying goodbye to him when he was unconscious."

Martha rolled her eyes, then smiled at Jack. "There was no point in saying goodbye to you while you were unconscious." She stepped over and slid her arms around him to give him a big hug, then pulled back and looked at him very seriously. "It's good to see you again. How long have you been awake?"

"Five hours, give or take." He really and truly felt like he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone. This was all too surreal, too normal. He wondered how long they'd been gone on their timeline. He really, really hated being on the stationary end of time travel.

Martha shot a scathing glance at the Doctor. "You said you were going to bring us back here right after he woke up."

"Well," the Doctor tugged his ear and scuffed his foot against the floor. "I didn't know exactly down to the second when he'd be waking up. And I thought I'd give him a couple of hours to get over being angry at us for running off." He gave Jack a meek look. "Not long enough?"

"I wasn't really angry." He paused, then added, "Maybe a little." He felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. His feeling of unease was fading. "So how long have you been gone anyway?"

"Oh, probably a couple of weeks is all," Martha said and shrugged, then added for the Doctor's benefit, "And don't tell me exactly how many days, hours and seconds. Inexact approximations are quite enough for me." She turned her attention back to Jack and added, "Holiday's over now. I have a life to get back to, you know. Or a new life to figure out anyway. He'll have to be someone else's problem now."

"Oi!" the Doctor said indignantly. "I am not a problem! Occasionally problematical, maybe, but not a problem!"

She grinned at him, said, "Well, maybe more of a challenge." She turned serious then, held her arms out to him. "Goodbye, then."

He wrapped her in a hug, pressed his face briefly into her neck, then stepped back and looked at her searchingly. "Don't give up on a normal life, Martha. At least find your own kind of normal and don't let it go. John Smith wasn't real. You are." Sudden tears sprang to her eyes and she looked at him a long moment before nodding and throwing her arms around him in a crushing embrace. The Doctor's face above her shoulder was soft and sad. He squeezed his eyes shut against tears forming in his own eyes.

Jack looked away. It was a private moment, a hidden reaction he hadn't been meant to see. He realized it always hurt the Doctor. No matter how his companions left him, willingly or not, alive or not, whole and sane or not, even if it was possible he'd see them again someday, the leave-taking always tore a little piece of him away. And then Jack had to suck in a wave of anguish almost unbearably sharp in its truth. It was almost a foregone conclusion that he'd see the Doctor again and again over the millennia to come. But Martha… It was only right and fitting that the Doctor should feel that goodbye so much more keenly for the rarity it would be.

They finally let go of each other, and Martha slid her arms up to the Doctor's shoulders, stood tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek before turning towards Jack. The Doctor followed her gaze, then much to Jack's surprise, walked over to him and pulled him into a warm embrace. Jack found himself automatically trying to sense any sign of unease in the Doctor, and perhaps there was some tension there. Probably too much wishful thinking to believe he'd somehow been mended and was no longer any sort of Wrong. Still, the Doctor held on for a long moment, and now Jack was blinking against treacherous wetness in his own eyes. They were all going to end up sobbing if this went on much longer.

Then the Doctor pulled back, but still held firmly to Jack's arms as he looked him straight in the eye. For just a moment Jack thought he could see the flowing currents and swirling eddies of time there in the Doctor's eyes, but then Jack blinked and the moment passed.

"Thank you again," the Doctor said, his voice cracking a little. "I… I don't know what else to say."

"You don't need to say anything else. Just…" Jack paused, not sure he should even ask this of the Doctor. "Be there at the end, if you can."

The Doctor released Jack's arms, and Jack wondered if he'd somehow overstepped an unseen boundary, but then a knowing little smile passed over the Doctor's face as he said, "Oh, I will be. I can promise you that."

Jack realized with a start that it must've already happened for the Doctor. He hadn't twigged to that before. There was a bit of temptation to ask when or where it would be, but really, he didn't want to know. He'd just have to go the long way around and find out for himself.

"Well, I'd better be going," the Doctor said, shaking off the seriousness of the moment. "Places to go, people to see."

"Trouble to get into," Martha added.

"I resent the implications of that," he replied, drawing himself up indignantly.

"No, you resemble that," Jack muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, Jack. Nothing wrong with my ears, even though they're not as big as they used to be." He gave a wry grin and one last wave, then turned and went into the TARDIS.

As the brief wind of the TARDIS dematerializing fluttered around them, Jack said quietly, "He seems in better spirits than he has for a long time."

Martha smiled faintly. "He is, I think. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him."

The TARDIS was gone now, and Martha sighed. Instead of saying anything profound or serious as Jack was half-expecting, though, she said, "I could murder a pizza. Do you know that you can't get pizza anywhere else in the universe?"

He laughed and linked his arm into hers. "I ate a while ago, but I'm hungry again. I've got a week of not eating to make up for." She grinned in return and started to lead him towards the blast door, but he pulled her towards the hidden lift instead. "Let's take the scenic route. We can make faces and rude gestures at passersby to see if the perception filter really is back in full force."

"Honestly, Jack, you're such a child sometimes. It's really unseemly, as old as you are."

"Hey, if the Doctor can get away with it, why can't I?" He paused and stood still for a moment as a sudden thought occurred to him. "You know, I hadn't realized – I'm now older than he is."

"Oh, you're going to be ridiculously older than him before the end."

He stared at her stunned, and she looked back with gentle and sad eyes. "You're going to be there, too," he said slowly. "You were with the Doctor when it happened."

"Yes," she said quietly. "But it'll be a long time before you get there. Let it alone for now."

He looked away, then slipped his arm behind her back and pulled her close. They stepped onto the platform of the hidden lift together, and he looked up into the vast space above as they rose. "I'm in no hurry." None at all. He was just going to be, and do and live, for as long as he was able. The end would wait for him. At least he knew there would be an end now. And that was the strangest sort of comfort he had ever known.

The End