Title: Leaving Me Now
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen, past Jack/Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 100moods
Prompt: 79, Rejected
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 sat on his bed in the Tardis, staring morosely into space with his chin propped in his hands. He'd sat in this very place many times, but this was the first time he'd had such an empty feeling in his hearts and mind.

He'd thought that it would be easy to leave Earth after he and Jack had decided that it was best to end their relationship. He'd thought that he would have no problem with going elsewhere, with getting the handsome immortal out of his thoughts -- and his hearts.

But it was proving to be much, much harder than he'd thought it would be. After all, his relationship with Jack hadn't been something that he'd felt wouldn't last. Jack was immortal. Jack could be with him forever, and he'd been sure that would be the case.

He hadn't quite been able to believe it when Jack had said, gently but firmly, that he felt the two of them should go their separate ways.

The Doctor had merely stood there, blinking, wondering if he was hearing Jack correctly or if he was having some sort of horrible dream. No, this couldn't be happening. The man he loved couldn't be telling him that they were over.

It had taken a few moments for the realization to dawn on him that Jack was saying exactly that. He hadn't expected to hear those words. They came at him out of the blue, battering him with a merciless fury that had almost made him cry out.

But he hadn't. He'd managed to keep his composure, and he hadn't asked Jack for his reasons. He hadn't needed to. It was enough that Jack had rejected him, just like so many others had before. And therein was the reason, he was sure.

He was different. He wasn't human. No matter how much he might look like a human, the fact remained that he wasn't one of them. Jack had never seemed to care much before. Something had apparently changed to make him think that the difference was too much.

Slowly, as though moving was almost painful for him, the Doctor rose from the bed and began to pull off his clothes. The jacket came first, then the tie, the shirt, and finally the trousers.

When he was naked, he walked to the mirror on one side of his bedroom and stood gazing at himself, wondering just what it was that Jack saw in this body. And what there might be about it that had made the other man stop desiring him.

He saw a tall, thin man, certainly not unattractive. In fact, if he was honest with himself, this was the best he'd ever looked. There was nothing wrong with this body, nothing at all. Maybe a bit too pale and thin, but otherwise, he was more attractive than he'd ever been.

Yet there was something about him that Jack didn't like, and didn't want. What was it? Was there something about him that pushed the people he cared about away, something that he might be able to actually see?

Or was it something inward, some facet of who he was that made people feel they could only be with him for a short period of time?

He couldn't tell. He really couldn't. To his eyes, there was nothing about this body that would make someone turn away from him -- unless they didn't like men who were pale and thin. But Jack had never seemed to be displeased with his physical self.

No, it had to be something that wasn't visible to the naked eye. Something about his inner self, something that people had to be around him for a while before they noticed it. Something about him that made them change their minds about how they felt.

If only he could see what it was, and excise it from himself forever. The Doctor sighed, turning away from the mirror and going back to the bed, sliding under the covers without bothering to shrug into his pajamas or pick up the heap of clothes on the floor.

There was no way to see inside himself -- and he certainly wasn't going to literally rip himself apart in order to do so. Besides, whatever it was about him that people decided they didn't like was more than likely something he couldn't change.

Jack had left him because he felt that he couldn't stay any longer. He could understand that. The other man felt that he had a life to live, a life that didn't include the Doctor.

But that didn't make the rejection hurt any less. Or make him feel any less alone.

The Doctor squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. This was ridiculous. He should be used to people leaving him. It happened all the time. This was just one more to add to the list.

It really wasn't that simple, though. Jack had been more to him than most of the people he'd cared for and who had eventually decided to leave. Jack hadn't just been a companion. Jack had been his lover, the man who he'd wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He'd thought that Jack wanted the same thing, but apparently he'd been wrong. Had all the things that they'd said to each other meant nothing, then? Had Jack's rejection of him been so total and complete that he'd be alone for eternity?

He didn't want to think that. He wanted to believe that Jack would realize he'd made a mistake, the worst one of his life, and that they belonged together.

But something told him that it wasn't going to happen. Jack cared about him; he'd tried his best to make their parting as painless as possible for them both. He'd thought this through carefully before he'd acted on his decision; he was that kind of man.

Or was this some sort of revenge for the way he'd treated Jack by leaving him in the past and running away? His eyes flew open at the thought, his hearts starting to beat faster. Could that be why Jack had chosen to leave the way he had?

No, that couldn't be it. He and Jack had discussed this, many times before, and Jack had told him in no uncertain terms that he didn't hold that against the Doctor any longer. He'd been angry at first, but that was over and done with, and it had no bearing on their relationship now.

Oh, well .... that had been a good theory, for the few seconds that it had lasted. The Doctor sighed, curling up under the covers and feeling as though he was trying to hide from the world.

He couldn't stay here, of course. He had responsibilities that he couldn't hide away from. He was going to have to come out of his bedroom eventually, face the universe, push aside the fact that he'd been rejected by the one man he wanted to be with.

That thought didn't exactly make him want to come out of hiding. No, he wanted to stay here and immerse himself in .... in what? Feeling sorry for himself? Wishing that Jack would suddenly show up and say that he wanted them to be together again?

How many times did he have to tell himself that wasn't going to happen for him to actually believe it? A lot, apparently. For some reason, he was still holding on to some vague, barely-there hope that it could possibly happen.

Pulling the covers up higher around himself, he huddled under them, pushing away the thought of his responsibilities. He could emerge from this self-imposed exile tomorrow. For now, he needed some time to sink into oblivion and deal with the pain of Jack's rejection.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, hoping that he'd be able to sleep, at least for a while. Sleep without dreams .... or memories of the recent past that he desperately wanted to get back.

***