Title: Memories Fade
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen & past Doctor/Jack
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, prompt_palooza
Prompt: 79, Empty
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor leaned back against the console, closing his eyes and feeling the familiar displacement of time and space as the Tardis shimmered and vanished into what would appear to anyone who saw her to be thin air.

But there was no one around to see him take the ship away from Earth; he'd left the Hub behind when he'd walked out and headed for the Tardis. Jack hadn't walked with him to the ship; he'd said that he had too much to do, and the Doctor hadn't questioned that.

He and Jack were still friends; that would never change. But the relationship they'd left behind them was something they could never regain, and he knew that in his hearts. Still, that didn't stop the hurt from seeping in when he least expected it.

Every time he came back to Earth and saw Jack again, the wound reopened, tearing itself apart and aching just as much as it had the first time he'd left.

That was inevitable, wasn't it? Any time he saw people from his past who he'd cared about, there was a feeling of regret that they hadn't been able to stay with him longer, that they'd had lives to go back to that didn't include him.

Sighing, the Doctor shook his head as he stared up at the ceiling. The pain when he parted from Jack was different. The two of them hadn't just been companions; they'd been lovers, and he'd long ago given his hearts to the other man.

A stupid thing to do, really. But after Jack had become immortal, the only thought in his mind had been that finally, there was someone he cared about who had the capacity to give him the forever he needed, someone who would never leave him.

He shouldn't have expected that; he'd had no right to do so. Jack, like everyone else, had his own life, and if he stayed, he had to do so of his own free will. The Doctor wouldn't have forced him to stay any more than he would any other companion.

And Jack wasn't built for completely fidelity in the long term. He knew that. To quote an old saying, he could no longer change that part of himself than a leopard could change its spots.

Jack had been faithful to him when they'd been together. He had no doubt of that; the other man had sworn that it was true, and he knew that Jack wouldn't lie about something so important. Yes, he lied easily, but Jack had never been able to lie convincingly to him.

He'd admitted as much the last time they'd seen each other. He'd also admitted that he still had deep feelings for the Doctor, but that he couldn't follow through on them. He felt that his place was here, and the Time Lord knew that he had to accept his former lover's decision.

But that didn't keep the loneliness at bay.

It was silly to feel sorry for himself, that inner voice chided him. He had more in his life than most people could ever dream of. He was a Time Lord; he had the Tardis; he could travel in space and time. He didn't need a lover to complete him.

No, he didn't need that. But he felt empty without it. It wasn't a necessity, but having someone to care for kept the gnawing loneliness from tearing at him, from wearing him down bit by bit until he was sure that there would be nothing left.

He'd thought that when Jack walked away, the numbness would take over, that he wouldn't be able to feel anything else and that he'd be blessedly free from the pain that circled his hearts whenever he thought about the other man. But that hadn't happened.

Instead, it had only seemed to grow more intense, the emptiness that stretched in front of him looking more and more bleak with each passing day.

Maybe that was why he came back to Earth to see Jack, torturing himself by thinking that maybe, just maybe, something would stir in the immortal's heart and he would come back. There was always that small spark of hope, that flame that wouldn't quite die away.

It was impossible, and the Doctor knew it. Jack wasn't going to come back to him. He'd found his place on Earth with Torchwood, and he he was happy in that life. He should accept that and move on, put the past behind him as he'd done so many times before.

This wasn't like the past. This was different; this was his lover, not just a companion. He'd missed all of his companions when they'd left, but they hadn't torn at his hearts in the way that Jack did. He hadn't missed the others with his body as well as with his hearts.

He had to stop thinking like this. The Doctor's mouth compressed into a thin line, his brows drawing down in a scowl.

The emptiness he felt couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, he had to grow accustomed to the fact that he and Jack were in the past as a couple, and feel more comfortable with being alone. He couldn't let himself dwell on this for the rest of his life.

If he did, then he would end up letting the emptiness, the loneliness, devour him from the inside out. That would make him useless for the job that he'd taken on when he became a Time Lord; he'd be no good to either himself or to the rest of the world.

It was useless to let himself dwell on the past, to sigh over what might have been. He had to steel himself to put that past firmly in the background, and try to look towards the future. He owed it to the universe -- and to himself as well.

He had to put his personal needs and desires into the background. He'd done that for most of his life; it wasn't as though sacrifice was a new concept to him.

He wasn't a child; he'd been in relationships before Jack. None that he had ever given himself to so completely, but relationships that had involved his hearts nonetheless. Though they had all been long ago in different bodies, the bittersweet memories remained with him.

This would eventually feel the same way. It would become a memory that he could look back on with fondness, even if it did cause him some residual pain. And if he was lucky, the memories wouldn't come back too haunt him very often.

His life didn't have to be empty. He sincerely doubted that he would ever find another lover who would be in his life for more than a brief time; what he'd shared with Jack couldn't be duplicated. But there would be others. He didn't doubt that.

He'd learned that memories faded. They were meant to do that, especially in a life as long as his own. They were built that way for a reason.

The Doctor shook his head, blinking as though he was coming out of some sort of trance. Turning, he stared down the console, his eyes roaming over the readouts. It was time to decide on a new place to go, somewhere that would command his attention.

Even if he couldn't completely eradicate the emptiness at the core of his life, at least he could push it aside and pretend that it didn't exist, if only for a short while.

***