voyagers | open | i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass.

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open | i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass.

[ those ghost-robots have fished what appears to be a fresh corpse out of the water. where did this guy in a wwii military jacket come from? who knows. a door probably opened a little too close to the side of the ship at the least opportune moment knowing this ship's track record and the dead man in question's luck.

—or, perhaps, not so dead after all.

lifeless one moment, he's surging back to life the next. air rushes into his lungs with a powerful gasp and he sits up, turning and hunching over slightly so he can properly cough up the water that flooded his lungs out onto the deck. ]

Drowned. [ the laugh that mingles with the tail end of his coughing fit doesn't at all sound amused, but he doesn't seem all that bothered by any of this, either. ] Haven't done that one in a while. Gotta love the classics.

[ by the time he pushes himself to his feet, it's as if he did nothing more than take an impromptu swim. soaked to the bone, but breathing fine and showing no signs of having been lying dead on the deck mere minutes before. ]

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[ it's been a very long time since jack's seen a face as familiar and welcoming as martha's. he's been on quite the ride since he last saw her, and he wouldn't exactly call it pleasant. dealing with the 456, the destruction of torchwood 3, and the subsequent fallout, nevermind everything surrounding the miracle. he was mortal again, the last mortal man on earth, until he practically fed himself to the blessing, not knowing whether or not death would finally grab hold of him for good.

jack can't say whether he'd been truly ready to die then or not, but he'd sure as hell been willing.

nevertheless, dying and coming back was such a familiar thing to him, that even the pain of doing so was welcomed. it was a reaffirmation of his fixed place in the universe, and it was reassuring to know that after all he'd been through, all he'd done, he still had one. ]

Martha? [ he gasps her name at first, still caught up in the fringes of his latest death, but the next time he utters it, he's laughing like he can't quite believe his eyes. ] Martha! Am I ever glad to see you.

[ of course he's okay, and he proves it by giving her a great big hug, not even bothering to apologize for his wetness. it's been so long, and he's lost so much. seeing that she's still real and intact is a breath of fresh air like no other. ]

[martha shakes her head with a soft, surprised smile when he says her name. it's a wonderful, unexpected sound as she hadn't begun to think he would actually know her. her grip on his shoulder tightens before she nods in answer to the question.]

It's me.

[it's reassured to him before she moves in with a wide, bright laugh and smile of her own. her arms wrap tightly around him, because it is so, so good to see him too.

she's no idea of the last time he saw her or all he has been through since then (those who have known the doctor, their lives hardly end up ordinary after that, and jake is the least of that. she doesn't forget meating the face of boe either.]

I'm ever so glad to see you as well, Jack Harkness. Here you are in one piece on a ship in the middle of nowhere. Suppose I shouldn't be so surprised.

[it's said against his shoulder as she hugs him back with a fierceness all her own. her eyes are burning, and she smiles against his shoulder.]

[ he draws back after a moment, but keeps his hands affixed to her upper arms, almost as if he's afraid she'll vanish if he lets go. ]

Kind of par for the course with our lot, isn't it?

[ our lot. it's been even longer since he's associated himself with the doctor, and there's a question on the tip of his tongue in regards to the man in the big blue box that he can't quite bring himself to ask. jack hasn't necessarily lost faith in the doctor so much as he's disappointed. (or is it that he feels like the disappointment?) sure, he has plenty of reasons to be cross with the time lord and his lack of a presence on earth, but he isn't.

god, how he hates that he isn't. being angry with the doctor would make things so much simpler, as would not seeing reason behind why he couldn't dirty his hands with jack's messes. the miracle, at the very least, had been a human problem. so very human in ways that were almost alien, but were human to their core. even if jack could argue that he was the "alien" element in that by way of being wrong (as the doctor so kindly put it), he could still see the reason. and he hated it all the more. ]

So, ship to nowhere. Known world? Dimension, maybe? Or are the answers to that part of the mystery?

[martha smiles, not minding the touch. she's half still trying to process the fact she's here. the strength of his hands upon her upper arms helps to remind her, and she laughs at the question.]

That would... be absolutely the case, I'm afraid.

[it's said softly before she shakes her head with a soft smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. she knows what he is referring to, and she certainly has lost faith in the doctor. the doctor isn't a god. the doctor is an indvidual with a certain amount of power who can only do so very much. it doesn't mean she doesn't still love him (a part of her always will

but that doesn't make her weak and doesn't tie her to him like it doesn't tie jake permanently to him either). martha would never call jack wrong in the slightest. the doctor has his own opinions, ways of viewing the world, they weren't always right.]

SO far as I can see, it's the case. Middle of no universe, sailing along as though it were unreachable with a door in its center. [martha smiles softly before she shakes her head.] The Doctor would be absolutely fascinated.

I'm a bit annoyed ultimately but it really is brilliant to see you.

How weird would it be for me to say I've missed this? Because I've really missed this.

[ these kind of doctor-esque shenanigans were so much more lighthearted than the drama he's been enduring as of late. being on a ship in the middle of no universe, tied to doors that couldn't be touched might've been an alarming situation to some, but to jack harkness, it was incredibly refreshing. ]

It's good to see you, too. It's been— [ and he laughs, because assuming it's been the same amount of time for her as it's been for him is an assumption he knows better than to make. time had a way of running in whatever direction in wanted, and he was no longer in the business of gauging that. ] How long has it been for you?

[ jack removes his hands, but one slips down to fit into hers. it's a friendly gesture and need for physical contact in one, leading her down the length of the deck in the direction of the bow. ]

Edited 2015-04-13 02:51 (UTC)

Not weird at all actually. The real, non-timey-wimey world can be a bit difficult to re-adjust to.

[the real world is far darker than the one she remembers running around in with the doctor. then again, her family did end up captured and kept as prisoner for a year. there's darkness everywhere. the doctor just happened to have a way of dealing with it (for the most part) that made it all feel light, easily conquered.

she smiles up at him, shaking his head at the question. time is difficult to anticipate really.]

It's been months at the very least, and I doubt the last Jack Harkness I saw was the same one that you are.

[martha tightens his hold on her hand in an equally friendly, warm gesture. they have an understanding being the doctor's companions, having loved him as they did.

do. timey-wimey and all.]

Difficult is an understatement.

[ double the difficulty for someone from the 51st century who had, for a time, grown used to hoping about time and the known universe with an incarnation of the doctor. sure, jack was something akin to well-adjusted now, but back when he originally bounced back to the late 1800s in search of the doctor? oh boy. his suave and training as a time agent had only gotten him so far. ]

Probably not. I would've remembered it. Last I saw of you was that mess with the Daleks.

[ he's not bothered in the slightest by the possibility of having encountered martha in a timeline he doesn't remember. that was the reality of their lives, wasn't it? aborted timelines, years that never were, timelines that didn't properly intersect. others might've been offended, but it was day in the life of for those who'd had the pleasure of having traveled with the doctor. ]

It's been a while for me since then. A few years at the very least.

I do like to understate it at times.

[martha sends him a warm but reassuring smile. the smile says she knows just how much of an understatement it truly is. she's met several different versions of doctors, of jack harkness. she knows she goes on to live a lot of things martha jones never did in chicago where she had another life entirely. she looks up at him with a tiny smile at what she says.]

I suppose a few years wouldn't seem very long to you while at the same time feeling too long all at once. There's quite a bit I haven't lived myself.

[she looks at him, tightening her hand in his own as she sees the expression on his face, and there's a slow smile on her face, because she seems to sense-- well.]

How are you? Truly?

Sometimes understating it is all people can handle.

[ because those who've never seen what they've seen just don't get it. that's part of the reason why jack withheld that bit of information from his team for so long. there are times when he wonders if telling them before he took off at the sound of the TARDIS whooshing against the rift would've done any good, but he's tampered with time on his own terms enough to know that wondering any more than he already has won't do him any good. ]

When you're sitting on the wrong side of 2,000...

[ he shrugs like that's nothing, but considering he was only over 100 last time they addressed his age, it's evident that something happened to accelerate him to an age well past the doctor's. oddly enough, what happened with gray isn't what's eating him up inside these days. it's the loss of his friends and co-worker. it's esther, who paid the ultimate price to do her part in stopping the miracle. it's the grandson he sacrificed to the 456 so that one life would take the place of billions.

but in true jack form, he mentions none of it. ]

Oh, I've been better. Not too bad, all things considered. You know how that goes.

[martha releases a breath with a soft smile of understanding, because she has seen that be the truth in many different cases. sometimes all that can be done is give people what they can handle even if it is a great understatement to the truth. she looks up at him suddenly when he trails off. he may shrug like it's nothing, but she doesn't.

her look is hard, concerned.]

Jack. [she doesn't shy away from it. martha jones is direct if she's anything. she's direct to a point. she stopped the doctor from his walking off and made her tell her about himself. she sat down on a chair in the middle of nowhere until he talked to her. many things have changed about her over the years but that hasn't.] ....2,000?

[she releases another breath, and her hand rests against his arm as she shakes her head. something must have happened, and she can't imagine what it was could be anything less than painful as deceptively casual as he may try being about it now. martha knows better than to accept that casualness at face value from him.]

Been better but you've been worse too so you make the most of it. [she does know how it goes, but it doesn't stop her from worrying nonetheless.]

You don't know how worse. [ his expression sobers, that happy-go-lucky mask of his melting away and into something much more somber. ] At least, I hope you don't. Living through the past year was... Well, it was actual living for the first time in a very long time for me. And I was the only one who was really doing it. The right way, anyway. Kind of backwards don't you think?

[ that laugh is edged with a darkness that's forever present within him, but he doesn't like to get too close to if he can help it. ]

But it's all fixed now. Everything's back to the way it was. I'm wrong and everyone else is right. That's the way the world should be.

[ jack's well aware that he's likely not making any sense, but he knows better than to assume she hadn't experienced the miracle. ]

[martha folds her arms across the chest, leveling him with a very serious look. he isn't making much sense at all, and this is martha jones. she's not the type to just let someone get away with not making any sense at her, but appearing so hurt that she can almost physically feel it herself.

it hurts.

he is hurting.

it crashes through her, and she only just manages a word after a moment.]

Jack.

[and now she's going to argue, lifting her chin up and meeting his gaze with her own.]

That is not the way the world should be. I don't know what's happened. The last I remembered of our world was becoming a doctor and then I was thrown into Chicago for many years.

I lived a different life there, but that doesn't mean I don't care about what happened to you in the life and world I left behind. [There's a fierceness to the tone. Her arms fold more tightly across her chest, but she isn't backing down.]

[ for a moment, jack's filled with nothing but relief, and he can't help but smile at her a bit, grateful that she -- at least, this version of martha jones -- wasn't subjected to what the miracle did to the world. to what the three families did to the world using his immortal blood.

but that smile doesn't last for too long, giving way to that same somber expression once again. he doesn't want to talk about his grandson, or how his daughter had walked away from him, unable to even look at him, so he focuses on the miracle and not the 456. ]

I was mortal. Me. I was the only person on the planet with the ability to die, because a bunch of nutcases decided to change the course of human history by forcing immortality on the masses. Nobody could die. It didn't matter if you were blown up, impaled, or had just suffered a heart attack -- you were alive, and death was no longer an absolute certainty.

For everyone but me, because they used my blood to do it. Harvested it a long time ago. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Never even realized they were up to something like that until it had already happened.

People called it a Miracle, but it was anything but. In the end, I was the last mortal man on Earth, and I had to use my mortal blood to restore the world to the way it ought to be.

[ a shrug, as if the whole ordeal had been nothing more than a walk in the park. he's full of shit, and he knows that she knows it. old habits die hard, and there are walls in place he's no longer used to bringing down. ]

I'm wrong again. [ he grins. ] The only immortal human in existence.

[ he pauses. ]

Well, except for Rex, but that's more or less... We're still working out the details of that.

Or we were, before -- you know -- my free, all-expense-paid trip to Shipneyland.

[Martha grows quiet as she stands in front of him with her arms folded, staring up at his face and listening to every single thing he says even as it hurts, even as she knows she can't quite wrap her head around the horrors of it all though she tries. She always tries with Jack, with the Doctor because she wants to understand and to give them comfort in the same moment she deeply realizes that there is no understanding living through what they have, what Jack has.

There's no being able to process that without having lived it.

It doesn't mean she doesn't care. She cares so intensely it's burning in her eyes as she looks at him, and she has already said his name so many times it likely loses its meaning to say it again.

Her hand slides over his arm as she meets his gaze.]

Jesus.

I'm sorry.

[After a moment, she steps forward, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

She doesn't tell him he's not wrong even though he'll never be wrong to her. It's the way he feels, it's the way what has happened to him and how he is impossibly immortal has made him feel, and her words won't change that. Can't change that so she wraps her arms so tightly around him, hugging him.]

[ had that hug come from someone else, he might've rejected it, but martha jones had a unique perspective most people in his life no longer possessed. she remembered that year they spent under the master's rule, was able to recall what he did to those poor, unsuspecting humans from the brink of time's end. and she knew what he went through during that year, too. granted, being killed for sport over and over again wasn't nearly as bad as being buried for as long as he'd been, but at least that had blurred together into a twisted cycle he almost got used to. (he doesn't like to give it much thought.)

but the miracle had been the opposite of that. it was one thing to live the immortal life; it was another to watch people endure what you did, and to do it without his ability to regenerate fully from whatever injuries he sustained. the families who thrust the miracle upon everyone failed to understand what he really was. they could force the blessing to infuse humanity with a mimicry of his inability to die, but they couldn't replicate the fact that he was a fixed point in time. only the TARDIS had that kind of power, and that was something they -- thankfully -- hadn't had access to.

as far as he knew, the families were unaware of the doctor. or, at the very least, jack's connections to him. ]

Don't. [ he soothes, arms coming up to wrap around her form in turn. ] Don't be sorry. It's over, and I'm glad you never had to live in a world that forced you to experience that.

[ that made her wrong like she was. maybe jack didn't think of himself as wrong initially, but the description had stuck with him since the doctor had uttered it. thanks, ten. ]

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open | i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass.

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