Title: A Life of Illusion
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, 50ficlets
Prompt: 48, Touch Me
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor pulled his coat around him, shivering in the cold. He didn't know why he'd come here, he always hated winter, and Cardiff was in the grip of a cold one this year.

Why was he here? He and Jack had ended their relationship. There was no reason for him to have come to Cardiff, especially at this time of year. No reason at all.

No reason other than that he wanted to see Jack. He wanted the other man to touch him, to hold him. He wanted them to be together in the way they had been months before, when he'd still felt that Jack loved him and wanted to be with him.

It was stupid, really. He'd promised himself that he wasn't going to be maudlin over this, that he wasn't going to torture himself over losing Jack. After all, it wasn't like the immortal would disappear from his life completely. They were still friends.

He could still come here to see Jack when he needed to. They weren't going to completely turn away from each other, not at all. He'd told himself that over and over, holding on to the fact that Jack hadn't pushed him out of his life.

Then why did it still hurt so badly? It wasn't as though he hadn't been rejected before. He should be used to it by now; he'd had enough people decide to leave him.

But Jack was different. Jack had said that he loved him, that he would always be there. Jack was the one person who could offer him what he needed -- forever. The one person who could always be with him.

True, he'd told Jack when they'd met again after their long separation that he was apprehensive of what the other man had become. It wasn't something that was ever meant to be; it would frighten anyone. And he'd gotten past that fear.

Apparently, Jack hadn't forgotten. He must still feel that the Doctor couldn't wholeheartedly accept him because of what he was.

He'd certainly given enough reasons for wanting to leave -- and that one hadn't been included. He'd wanted to stay with Torchwood; the team had needed him. Perfectly legitimate, and perhaps even true. All his reasons for leaving had been valid ones.

Though he hadn't seemed to realize one thing, the Doctor reflected, his footsteps slowing as he approached the Hub.

Torchwood might need Jack. But the Doctor needed him, too.

He'd needed all of his companions, in different ways. But Jack .... he'd always been much more than a companion, at least while the Doctor had been in this incarnation. They'd been lovers; he'd given the other man his hearts.

That was something he'd never been able to do with anyone else. He'd cared about every person who'd ever traveled with him, but Jack had been his lover, the man he'd wanted to spend eternity with. They'd had so much more than he'd ever had with anyone else.

The Doctor stopped walking, heaving a sigh and shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He was here. There was the Hub, in front of him.

Why didn't he just walk in? He knew how to get there, after all. It would be unusual for him to pay them a visit, but not unheard of. He could just show up and make his greetings, pretend that he was fine, that everything was status quo.

But it wasn't. It never would be again.

He would give anything in the world, anything he'd ever had or could possibly have, for Jack to touch him again. He'd give anything to back in the immortal's arms, in his heart -- in his bed. That was all he wanted. Maybe all he'd ever want.

And it was something he couldn't have. Jack had made his decision, and he really should force himself to accept that. He couldn't go back and change the way things were.

Well .... he could, really. But it wouldn't make any difference in the long run. There was no use even trying, was there? It would never be the same. He might be able to have what he wanted -- but it would be an illusion.

Maybe his relationship with Jack had always been an illusion. And he wasn't going to base the rest of his life on something that wasn't really there, and possibly never had been. He would be wasting his time, living in a fantasy that couldn't come true.

Sighing again, he turned away, starting to retrace his steps back to the Tardis -- feeling that he was leaving a part of him behind, the part that was still waiting for Jack's touch and knowing that it would never come.

***