Title: She Understands
By: el_evergreen
Pairing: Jack/Tardis
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: *sigh* They all belong to someone else. I just borrow them.
Author's Notes: Okay, so I'm insane. My first attempt at anything like this, so... take it easy. I tried to pick out all the beta-editing, but if you see a random question mark or comma, forgive me.
Summary: Jack has a little heart-to-heart with the TARDIS and a little more.

***

It's his first peaceful night back aboard the TARDIS and, quite frankly, his first peaceful night anywhere in a very long time. He's bundled snugly in a blanket, curled up on a spare bed in one of the rooms in the back. There are absolutely no sounds - a big change from the nightly noises at the Hub; the occasional angry growl of a Weevil, the chirp of the pteradactyl, a beep from a computer...

No, there's nothing. Nothing but the faint hum of the TARDIS. He smiles inwardly. After over a century and a half of waiting, of watching and hoping, he's finally home again. Home. He frowns. Is this really home? He admits to himself he's hardly been back with the Doctor long enough to be calling the TARDIS home. Does he really belong here?

The Doctor had told him that he's "wrong," whatever that means. Perhaps he doesn't have a real home anymore. He sits up, trying to ignore the empty feeling growing inside him. This new Doctor is strange - more cheeky and a bit too moody at times for Jack's liking. Not that he blamed him; he'd lost Rose and nearly lost the TARDIS to another Time Lord, among other things.

He stands, wrapping the blanket around himself and dragging it with him as he crosses the room. He walks as quietly as possible down the long hallway, with some difficulty: it's rather small, and he has to take care not to bump the wall as he passes the room where Martha's sleeping, and the other where the Doctor is... doing whatever it is Time Lords do at night.

Before long, he finds himself taking the familiar turns and corners down the path that leads to the console room, where the droning hum of the TARDIS is a bit louder. He recalls the countless times he sat awake in here, pondering where the ship would take them next. Back then, "them" had been the Doctor, himself and Rose. Now the group is all messed up... it doesn't feel right to him. Perhaps that's what the Doctor meant when he said he's "wrong." Maybe he's the one that doesn't belong - in the TARDIS or the group.

How could he not belong, though? Jack ponders the question as he leans against the console. He waited for so long for the Doctor to return, because he knew that he would. He knew the Doctor would return to Cardiff to refuel. Was that the knowledge and behaviour of someone who didn't belong? Hardly.

Sighing deeply, he sinks to the floor. This isn't what he expected; the greeting the Doctor had given him was far from the warm welcome he had been anticipating. Everything has changed, except the TARDIS. He glances around, taking in the familiar surroundings. Yes, definitely home.

The hum of the TARDIS changes pitch, and Jack smiles lightly. "Didn't think I'd get to see you again," he says quietly, and wonders what his team would think of him if they ever saw him talking to a ship. He's communicated with her before, though, and he knows the Doctor does, too. It just seems natural to him.

Martha accuses them of "being silly”, but Jack knows the tender pats from the Doctor and occasional words of praise for landing smoothly or taking them to an especially exotic place don't go unnoticed by the ship. She's very much alive and enjoys being acknowledged, just like anything else. The Doctor's lucky to have such a ship.

He remembers the first time he discovered the heart of the TARDIS was very much like that of a person. It had been his second night aboard, after the Doctor had saved him from his own doomed ship. He was up late, having his usual insomnia problem, and got rather interested in a conversation with himself. It took him a good while, but he eventually noticed the TARDIS listening in. If he listened carefully enough, and opened up his mind a little, she even offered a few comforting words in the best way a ship could.

His own ship hadn't been so different, though the computer embedded in it could actually form words aloud. He isn't complaining - he enjoys communicating with the TARDIS. He's learned to tell what most of the changes in the humming means: when she's annoyed with the Doctor, bored or just not in the mood for travel.

The humming changes pitch again, and he reaches up above his head to run his hand along the edge of the console. "Don't think I'll be around for long," he says, more to himself than the TARDIS. "I get the feeling I'm not really wanted here."

Another change in pitch, one that clearly says, "Nonsense."

He smiles again. "Flattered."

He sighs deeply, absent-mindedly stroking the console as he lets his thoughts wander back to Cardiff and his team. What will he say to them when he finally returns? "I'm sorry I stayed dead for weeks and then randomly disappeared into thin air." Somehow, he doesn't think that will cut it.

The TARDIS hums quietly. The truth. Tell them you waited.

Jack supposes it's the best thing to do... only he's never really been one for the truth. Half of the time he makes up things that just sound good.

Quite the storyteller, if I recall correctly.

He grins as he remembers standing in the console room, telling Rose wild stories of which only half were true. It wasn't that he tried to win her over with them, he had just enjoyed seeing her smile and hearing her laugh. He suspects that she knew he was full of it, and he misses her terribly.

Shifts in the humming again. He chuckles, "I missed you, too."

A sudden warmth envelops him, coming from a source other than the blanket. It's strangely comforting, and he settles into it, closing his eyes and letting the new, steady humming fill his head. He wonders if the Doctor knows his ship is capable of such things. It wouldn't surprise him if he did, and at the same time, it wouldn't surprise him if he didn't. It's hard to tell what the Doctor does and doesn't know. Besides, the TARDIS has her own secrets.

Settling into a small niche just beneath the console, Jack sighs, snuggling deeper into the blanket and the extra warmth provided by the TARDIS. He considers just sitting here all night; he could easily do so and has plenty of times before. A new sensation awaits him there, however; a force stronger than the slight warmth he felt before, as though he were being pulled in closer to the console. It frightens him for a moment, but he eventually accepts it.

So lonely, she hums sympathetically, and Jack wonders what he's got himself into. Not that he doesn't trust her...

He shivers inwardly as cool air brushes against the back of his neck, and gasps aloud as a sudden warmth bursts through him from the inside out. Gripping the edge of the console above his head, he fights to keep his breathing steady. Admittedly, the TARDIS had caught him off guard, and he never expected her to be the instigator of such a situation. There's one thing the Doctor doesn't know about her, he wagers.

His battle to keep even the slightest ounce of self-control fails as a light, a very familiar and comforting glow, seems to wrap around him. It slivers down his arms, around his neck, over his chest. It's everywhere: behind him, in front of him, on either side of him, inside him.

He's drowning in it and, Heaven help him, he doesn't want to be saved.

Gripping the console with both hands now, abandoning the security the blanket had been providing, he closes his eyes and allows the TARDIS to consume him. It takes everything he has not to cry out with words and whimpers and any other expressions of pleasure he can think of when the light seems to rip through him all at once.

He sits there, arms trembling and weak, gripping the console for as long as he can. He wants to stay this way forever, in this feeling of wholeness and content that he, quite admittedly, has felt very few times before. Knowing he can't, he opens his eyes in time to see the entire console room lit up in a very subtle, very faint glow before dimming back to the darkness that consumed it before.

Relaxing back into the niche he'd occupied before, he closes his eyes again and rests his head on the back of the console. As odd as it sounds, he feels more welcome now than he ever had before. He reaches up once more to run his fingers along the edge of the console.

Footsteps nearby interrupt the blissful silence. "Jack?" a voice asks from above him. He removes his hand from the console. Two legs in front of him bend down, and Martha's face appears in the darkness. "What're you doing down there?"

He shrugs, fearing words may fail him at this particular moment.

Martha shakes her head, "Late night chat with it?" she asks, patting the TARDIS awkwardly.

Her. He fights with himself not to voice the correction. She's new, she deserves a chance to get things right on her own.

"Honestly, you two act like it can understand you." She leaves, heading in the general direction of the kitchen.

The TARDIS begins to hum steadily again and Jack, stroking the console once more, smiles at Martha's back. "You've no idea," he mumbles.

***