Frozen in terror - Jack's never suffered from that particular affliction before. He's never had a moment where fear steals the movement from his limbs and the breath from his lungs. He's never been caught like an insect in amber while something terrible happens. He always thought it to be a curiosity, something that affects others but never him.
Not now. Now he knows it intimately, knows how it feels to be frozen as a man strangles the woman whose presence is all that's kept him sane for who knows how long. He knows what it's like to want to do something but have fear steal all possible action away. He knows what it's like to only hear the rush of blood through his veins and the soft choking noises Rose makes as she struggles against Sarassen. He thought he was better than this. Fuck that, he scolds himself. He is better than this.
It takes seconds. Seconds too long, he fears, as Rose's resistance begin to lessen, her movements growing weaker. The Doctor's hurrying towards the two figures on the ground, his shouts mingling with his own as Rose stills beneath Sarassen's cruel fingers.
Terror releases his limbs from his grip and somehow he's there before the Doctor, bodily throwing Sarassen away from Rose's too-still form. Panic threatens to overwhelm him just as quickly as the fear, but he forces himself to ignore it and focus on Sarassen. The Doctor will save Rose. He has more important things to consider.
Like how Sarassen's neck will feel as it breaks beneath his hands – injured fingers be damned.
There are no words that can describe what he feels as he approaches the figure lying in the dust before him. No words to tell how it feels as he hauls the man to his feet, wanting nothing more than revenge. He doesn't even know if Rose is alive. All he has is his hope and a cold desire to stop this man from hurting anyone else ever again.
"You bastard," he snarls, finally giving voice to a small measure of that anger and hate that roll through his system. He pulls the man to his feet, grunting as the movement jars his injury.
Sarassen's gaze focuses on something past his shoulder and somehow he knows that the man is staring at the sphere.
"It's over," he says, ready to give into the urge to lay Sarassen out with a good right hook.
Sarassen has other plans.
The punch, when it comes, isn't telegraphed. One instant, there is nothing, the next his cheek is stinging with a pain that throbs in time with his hand. He lifts his injured hand towards his cheek as the other reaches out towards Sarassen. He has to stop him. For all Jack knows, Sarassen intends on hurting the Doctor or trying to fix his spherical device.
He just misses with his hand, spinning on his heel to try to reach the man before he can do more damage. A babble of unintelligible nonsense escapes Sarassen's mouth as he heads towards the sphere. It's nothing more than raving, but it's enough to make his blood boil. He hears 'girl', 'stop them' and 'kill' scattered amongst those words.
Jack tries to dive towards Sarassen, hoping that his bulk will, at least, manage to cause the other man to trip. Somehow he manages to catch hold of Sarassen's ankle, but only for an instant. The ankle jerks free and he's left panting through the pain as the other man tries to take another step forward.
From this position, he can see the missed step and the slow motion – though that's only in his mind – fall towards the ground. Sarassen doesn't try to brace himself. Instead, Sarassen looks back at him, capturing Jack's gaze with his own. Then comes the impact.
The sound of cracking bones echoes like a gunshot as Sarassen's body hits something at the wrong angle. He knows the sound a lifeless body makes the second it hits the ground. He recognises that same hollow sound as Sarassen's body bounces upwards along with the sound of snapping bones. He can see one of Sarassen's eyes from where he lies and, for the briefest of seconds, he thinks he can see the man Sarassen once was before the recursion stole his sanity staring back at him.
Jack forces himself to his feet as Sarassen's eye dulls with death, needing to check on Rose. A swift glance at their enemy reveals the cause of his death – a rock and bad luck. Sarassen's neck has snapped. Unable to find it within himself to care, he leaves the cooling body behind to find out how Rose is doing.
Despite the fight, the Doctor apparently hasn't moved from his spot leaning over Rose. The tension in the Time Lord's shoulders isn't reassuring and he braces himself for the worst.
When he gets close enough to see her, it feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders when he sees her smile. "Not bad for a former shopgirl, huh?" she asks, her voice raspy from her injuries.
"Don't talk," the Doctor admonishes her.
"Not bad at all," he says, crouching beside them, wincing as the motion jars his hand. He wants to yell at her, to tell her to stop taking chances when there's no safety net of a reset…
He blinks. The reset is – no, was - due a few minutes ago, wasn't it? Does this mean it's over?
He nudges the sphere with his hand, glancing at the Doctor. "So this is a time machine?" he asks.
The Doctor gives him a look that seems to imply he's being particularly daft. In his defence, he knows that it's the easiest way to get the Doctor talk. "No. No, it isn't."
That isn't particularly helpful. But, before he can try to cajole an explanation, Rose shifts herself into a half-sitting position and diverts his attention. "Careful," he says, trying to reaching out to capture her shoulder in an attempt to steady her. The Doctor's hand beats him there, but instead of shying away he lets his hand rest on top of the Time Lord's.
"Keep still," the Doctor commands, using his free hand to pull out the sonic screwdriver. Thumbing it on, the device's blue light is run over Rose's head and neck. "Bit banged up, but your bonehead-" He gently taps her forehead. "-kept you in one piece. I can sort your throat when we get back to the TARDIS. You too, Captain. Don't think I missed that you're hurt."
The thought of painkillers is more than enough to keep him happy. He's more concerned about Rose.
She sighs. If it sounds long-suffering, he supposes she deserves it. He still can't believe that she took that risk. Suddenly, panic fills her eyes as she meets his. "The recursion. Are we-?" she asks and her voice gives out before she can finish the question.
"It's over," the Doctor says. "Tomorrow'll be a new day for you – literally."
The relief in her expression is almost palpable, but that might just be because of his echoing emotion.
"Why?" she manages.
"Why'd it happen?" the Doctor completes. At Rose's nod, the Time Lord sighs deeply. There's guilt in the Doctor's eyes as he replies, "Me."
"You?" he asks, disbelieving. "It's not your fault Sarassen decided to play with technology that he shouldn't have." Speaking of said technology, he gives it a glance, finally seeing that there are strange geometric patterns inscribed on the surface. He knows that the designs are somewhat familiar, but he can't place them.
"'S Gallifreyan technology. A bloody training device. Meant to teach kids how to manipulate time fields. Thing is, it isn't supposed to be used in proximity to TARDISes. This one was and-"
"Temporal recursion," he finishes. Hell. As if the Doctor needed more guilt on his shoulders.
"Temporal recursion," the Doctor agrees. "I'm sorry." The Doctor turns away, shielding his eyes and expression from both himself and Rose.
"Not…your…fault," Rose says. Her voice is hoarse, but she manages to complete the sentence between breaths. "Honest, it isn't. Can't…predict the future."
The Doctor flinches. "Yes. I can."
"So you knew this was going to happen?" he asks.
"No, but-"
"Then you can't predict the future," he concludes. "Oh, you might have your guesses. The big things, of course. Maybe even some little things if you're lucky. But this? Definitely not. So it's not your fault, Doc, so stop blaming yourself."
"Doctor," the Time Lord corrects him.
"I'll only call you Doctor, Doc, if I'm certain you're listening."
"You drive a hard bargain."
"I'd be happy to show you how hard I can be," he replies and is rewarded with Rose's choked laughter and a glare from the Doctor.
"C'mon, then," the Doctor says as he helps Rose to her feet. "I think it's time we got back to the TARDIS."
He does his best to imply that this conversation isn't over, but the Doctor is ignoring him. Well, fine. He can wait until after everyone's hurts are fixed and they're safely away from here. Then there's no way the Doctor's getting out of their next conversation without knocking him out first.
She opens her eyes with a start, terrified by what she might see. She's on her bed, in her pyjamas, and the room is dark. It's not the console room, so that's something. Rubbing her eyes, she slips out from underneath the duvet and starts to head for the door. She's already got it planned out – she'll head to the console room and check. If it's a different day, really a brand new day, she'll only find the Doctor there. If it isn't, she'll expect to see Jack too. Sure, she always started the day in the console room, but that doesn't mean it hasn't changed slightly.
Right?
Shaking her head at her own scepticism, she's almost past the edge of her bed when she trips over something. There's a decidedly masculine grunt and suddenly the lights turn on. Blinking against the sudden brightness, she turns and finds herself staring at not one, but two, men looking back at her.
The Doctor's wincing as he rubs his ankles and Jack, safely on the other side of her bed, merely smiles sheepishly. It looks like, some time during the night, they dragged the chairs in her room closer to the bed, and settled in.
"What're you two doing?" she asks. She expects this out of the Doctor. Whenever she's injured, she'll find him looking in on her, sometimes watching her sleep. She's never told him this, but she finds it rather comforting. Jack, however, has never joined in that particular habit.
At least, not until now. "If I say that you snore while you sleep, would that save me?" Jack asks, giving her a winning smile.
That certainly won't work. "Doctor?"
The Doctor stands and approaches her. He seems to loom over her, but that doesn't bother her. It's more of a protective looming than anything else. "Just give me a promise," he says.
It's not answering her question, but she's willing to play along. "What's that?"
"Promise me that you won't try that again." It doesn't take A-levels to understand what he's asking of her. He doesn't want her risking her life, doesn't want a repeat of what happened earlier. Yesterday, even. That word alone is enough to lift her spirits.
"No," she replies. "Can't do it. I was the closest one there an' Sarassen trusted me. I couldn't let him push that button and make time reset. I jus' couldn't. You can't ask that of me, Doctor. Not when you can't promise to stop blamin' yourself for things that're beyond your control."
"It is my fault, Rose. You could've-"
"But I didn't," she points out. "Neither did you nor Jack. So 's fine, see? And it wasn't your fault. You can't change the past. What happened, happened."
There's a rustle of fabric as Jack moves to join them. "I don't think you're going to get that promise, Doc."
"Doctor." The word is a growl.
"Already told you. Not until you stop blaming yourself, Doc," Jack says.
"I'll stop blamin' myself when you two stop playin' the hero an' almost gettin' killed."
She can't help it. The looks on both their faces are just too much. She starts to giggle and their indignant expressions only add to the hilarity. "Think we're jus' gonna have to agree to disagree."
Jack's lips quirk upwards into a smile. "Truce?" he asks.
"Truce," the Doctor agrees. "As long as you stop callin' me Doc."
She thinks Jack's about to disagree but something must change his mind as he nods in agreement.
"What? Aren't you two gonna hug an' make up?" she asks, grinning.
Jack gives her a startled look and the Doctor's surprisingly taciturn. "Only if you join us," Jack counters, stifling a grin.
"All right, then," she replies. "Doctor?"
The Doctor gives them an almost calculating glance as he opens his arms and pulls both herself and Jack into an all-too-brief embrace. "Better?" he asks once he releases them.
"Oh, I dunno. Might need a repeat performance," Jack says. "This time, with extra feeling."
"Ah, but that's where you've got to start considerin' the consequences, Captain. Then again, sometimes the consequences might not be as bad as you think." The Doctor's smile is crooked as he ducks his head and brushes cool lips against hers. But it's so brief that she has no chance to react as he pulls away, nodding towards the door. "I'll be in the console room, if you need me. The neutron polarisation coupler needs calibratin'."
She feels her stomach descend to somewhere near her toes as he leaves them behind, her eyes wide with shock.
"He doesn't-"
"He can't-"
Their words tumble over each other, almost colliding as they try to speak at the same time.
She looks at Jack and, together, they say the only thing that can ease the sudden panic that fills them, "Nah."