Title: Truth, Bitter Truth
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: Epsilon, challenge_the
Prompt: 3, Truth
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.

***

How long was he going to deny the truth to Jack -- and to himself? the Doctor thought sourly, ambling along the street with his hands shoved into his pockets. He wasn't here in Cardiff because he had to be. He was here because he wanted to be.

It was ridiculous that he let a human have such a hold over him. Especially a human who'd been given the choice of being with him, of traveling through time and space with him in the Tardis, and who'd turned it down for .... this.

Not that he should blame Jack for choosing Cardiff, and Torchwood, he told himself hastily. He was doing a great deal of good here.

But still .... it hurt to be second choice, especially when he had thought that Jack would be the one he'd spent his life looking for, the man who would stay with him forever. And for once, here was a man with the ability to do so -- and he wouldn't.

A wry smile twisted his lips at the though. Wasn't it just a bit ironic that out of all the people who'd said they would stay with him and meant it, but couldn't stay -- that the one who hadn't it was the one who could?

He should accept things as they were, put their relationship behind him and forget what they'd been to each other. Even being casual lovers would never be the same; that was something he wasn't ready to accept, for either of them.

It came easily to Jack, he thought, bitterness seeping into his mind. Going from one lover to another as though they were interchangeable. How did he remember people's names? He probably didn't; he just expected them to be charmed by his manner.

But then, everything seemed to come easily to him. Yes, he'd been through a lot, but somehow, he always came up roses with a smile on his face.

There was still a bit of animosity between himself and Jack; the Doctor could sense it whenever they were face to face, whenever Jack smiled at him or looked into his eyes. There was that little bit of the immortal that held back -- something that he'd never done before.

And the smile was never quite genuine. It was as if Jack was wary, waiting for something that he expected to happen. Waiting for the Doctor to say something that he didn't want to hear, or to do something that would leave him in a bad situation.

All right, so he'd made a terrible mistake leaving Jack behind when he was in his last body. But the truth was, at that time, Jack had terrified him, and he'd felt that he would be making an even bigger mistake to have the immortal with him.

Jack had become something that he didn't understand, something that frightened him. He hated to admit that now; after he and Jack had been so physically and -- he thought -- emotionally close, it was hard to believe that he could ever have felt that way.

But he had, and there was no need denying it. He'd apologized over and over to Jack, trying his best to explain why he'd done what he had and asking for forgiveness.

He'd though that he was forgiven -- but now, he wasn't so sure. Was this Jack's way of making him suffer, this constant pulling away from him, this denial of what he was sure the other man felt? Was this Jack's attempt to "get back" at him?

It it was, then he was doing a good job, the Doctor thought bitterly, kicking savagely at a small rock in his path. Being rejected -- at least as anything more than a friend -- was something that Jack knew would hurt him more than anything else he could possibly come up with.

Maybe he should just admit the truth to Jack -- but it was hard enough to do that for himself. So he ran all the way across the galaxy, to a different time, knowingly throwing himself into the path of danger to forget all that he'd left behind.

The one problem was that it didn't work. Being away from Jack didn't make the pain go away; it didn't make his longing for what he'd once shared with the immortal any less acute. In fact, if he was honest with himself, it only made that longing more intense.

Yet another thing that he could never admit to Jack. Oh, he could see the satisfied smile that would bring to his former lover's face. No, he couldn't do that. Ever.

The Doctor sighed, making his way to a bench by the sidewalk and sinking down onto it. No, he could never tell Jack how he felt. But he might as well admit the truth to himself, even though it was a very bitter pill for him to have to swallow.

The bitter truth was that he was still in love with Jack. It wasn't just physical; it never had been. He'd tried to make Jack believe that for a while -- and he'd tried to convince himself of it, too. But he'd had no luck with making himself believe that -- or Jack, either, he was sure.

If he was a different kind of man, he would go to the Hub, try to talk to Jack and admit what he felt. But that was impossible; after all, he had his pride, and he wasn't going to grovel, not even to have another chance with the man he loved.

He very much doubted that chance would be granted. From what he could tell, Jack had moved on; he was no longer interested in the two of them being involved. And the Doctor wasn't going to open himself up to that kind of pain, not again.

But wasn't there a spark of hope -- however small -- that he might be wrong and that Jack might be feeling exactly the same way he was?

The Doctor looked in the direction of the Hub, weighing his options in his mind. There were several courses of action that he could choose from -- and at the moment, only one that he wanted to take. One that he was sure would only lead to him being hurt.

Still .... he had no choice, not really. He had to try. He couldn't go on feeling like this, letting that bottled-up resentment grow until it changed his feelings into something negative. He didn't want that to happen, not with Jack.

Heaving a sigh, he stood up, turning in the direction of the Hub and setting his feet on the path. This might be a mistake, but he had to try. And if he failed, then he would at least be able to close the door and move on -- though a big part of his life would always be missing.

***