Jack waited until the Doctor turned around before he said anything.

"Where are you taking me?" Jack asked, trying to keep his voice even. He had no idea what the Doctor's objective was, except to humiliate him further, which he definitely didn't need.

The Doctor took off his overcoat and tossed it onto the jump seat. "Just a nice, pleasant trip through the Vortex for now. I find it very soothing after stressful situations. I also find it very conducive to talking. That's what we've got to do, you and me. Man-to-man. Heart-to-heart. Hearts-to-heart," he corrected himself.

Jack scowled.

The Doctor sat down opposite him, leaning back against the base of the console. "First, I should probably thank you for taking care of me," he said, not looking at Jack. "I'm glad you found me." His spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully and deliberately. "It's a bit… strange." Here, the Doctor paused and looked down at his hands. Jack's attention was drawn to them for a second, but then he looked down at his lap. He had to keep reminding himself that this was not John.

The Doctor started talking again. "All in all, I'm glad," he said. There were several more moments of silence and the Doctor shifted. "But."

Hot shame filled Jack and he buried his face in his hands, dreading what the Doctor was about to say. Hadn't they been through enough already? Did he really have to rub it in?

"But," the Doctor repeated. "We have an issue we need to discuss."

Jack's head snapped up. "Look, I know," he said angrily. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry. Just…" He shook his head. "Just take me home. I need to be alone." It was far too fresh a wound; he didn't need the Doctor to tell him that what he'd done was wrong. He already knew that. He'd known all along that he was betraying the man whose opinion he valued far above anyone else's, and he didn't think the Doctor would ever forgive him.

The Doctor watched this impassively. At last, he simply said, "No."

"What?" Jack blinked.

"No. No, I'm not taking you home, not until we come to an understanding. Because." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Because." He shifted. "Because John Smith is me."

Jack laughed harshly. "You think I didn't already know that?"

"I think you certainly knew we have the same body," said the Doctor. "I'm rather aware of how well you knew that." He tugged awkwardly on his collar and Jack caught a glimpse of the love bite he'd left on John's neck that morning. It didn't feel like it had only been that morning.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be," said the Doctor, almost automatically. "I mean…" He took a deep breath. "We have the same body, yes. And he's… he's not real, but he's the human equivalent of me. Anything he's capable of, I am, too."

Jack snorted. "You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?"

The Doctor cocked his head to the side. "Oh come now, Jack. You never used to be this cynical. I'm telling you the truth."

Jack got to his feet. He couldn't look into John's eyes and hear the Doctor say those words–how gullible did the Doctor think he was? "I'm leaving," he said tersely. "Take me home, or I'm going myself." He reached for the door.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," said the Doctor casually, not moving from his position on the floor. "We're still in the Vortex. I'd hate to see what would happen to you out there without any sort of working time-travel device. I mean, it could be scientifically interesting, but I do sort of like you, so..."

Jack turned. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The Doctor stood up. "Because I care. I could have just left you, you know. Left you to your own devices and never mentioned these past few weeks again."

"I wish you had," muttered Jack.

"What's got into you, Jack?" asked the Doctor, taking a few steps forward. "I thought that's what you wanted, to come with me."

It was true, Jack realized. He had wanted that. Before everything had gotten complicated. He sighed. "Fine," he said quietly. "I'll stay–until you find someone." He looked at the Doctor, but the other man avoided his gaze. "Is there anywhere I can get some shuteye? I've had a long day." He knew he sounded exasperated, but he didn't care. He just wanted this hell to end.

"Your old bedroom," said the Doctor, turning back to the console. "It's just as you left it."

**

Jack got chills as he entered his old room. It was exactly as he'd left it, though someone–Rose?–had made his bed and folded and put away the clothes he'd left on the floor. Jack threw his coat onto a chair and kicked off his boots, but didn't even bother to undress the rest of the way. He lay down on top of the covers.

He hadn't been in this room for well over a hundred years, though it had been considerably less time for the room. Even so, it didn't seem dusty–perhaps the TARDIS automatically kept the Doctor's companions' rooms the way they'd left them, knowing how much most of them wanted to return.

He closed his eyes. This wasn't the homecoming he had envisioned, during all those years he'd been searching for the Doctor. He'd spent most of the waiting years fantasizing about how he'd find the Doctor and Rose and jump right back into the lives they'd left off on.

All his plans had been turned upside down when he'd realized Rose was gone and that the Doctor had regenerated. Not that he didn't value Martha as a friend, but it wasn't the same dynamic. Plus, at that time, Jack had had a full team of friends he cared about. Now, after losing all but one of them, Jack was beginning to think having friends was somewhat overrated.

It had shocked him how attracted he'd been to the Doctor's new body. He hadn't had time to contemplate this, what with their trip to the end of the universe and the year of hell under the Master, but after he'd returned to Torchwood and was missing the Doctor once again, the old feelings had come flooding back.

He knew he really should have been able to control himself when he'd met John, but part of him hadn't wanted to. He had taken a somewhat sick satisfaction in knowing that on some level, the Doctor, the man he had desired for so long, was his. But now…

Jack rubbed his eyes. He knew the Doctor, knew he would have said anything to get Jack to stay, and on some level, Jack did want to stay with the Doctor. After all, wasn't this all he'd wanted for all those years of waiting? He sighed. Now that he had it, Jack wasn't so sure it was such a good idea. How could he travel with the Doctor after what he'd done to him? He couldn't imagine it as anything other than supremely awkward. He had promised to stay with the Doctor until he found a suitable companion, and that's what he would do. The first place they stopped, Jack would go looking for one.

**

The Doctor lay on his back under the console, staring up at the innards of the TARDIS.

"I suppose he took rather good care of you," he admitted, taking his glasses off and sliding them back into his pocket. "I don't see anything that needs doing."

The TARDIS hummed back.

"I did thank him!" he said indignantly, rolling to his feet. "And I'm not going to thank him that way. He doesn't want me to." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure I'd want to." He sighed and sat down on the jump seat.

He certainly cared about Jack, like he cared about all his friends. But the events of the past few weeks had convinced him that his feelings for Jack actually ran deeper than he'd previously realized and he needed some time to process this.

It was impossible to deny; the evidence was right in front of him. The chameleon arch wasn't that sophisticated, couldn't invent feelings were none truly existed. All that he and Jack had done together would be possible for them to have back.

But did he want it back? The Doctor fiddled absently with his shoelace. The memories he had of his time with Jack were vague, as if he had dreamed them. He remembered the feelings, remembered that they had been pleasant, but they didn't seem entirely real. It was like grasping at dreams in the twilight between sleeping and waking to remember how he had felt when Jack had held him.

He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling of the TARDIS. He wondered whether it was even wise to try to reestablish that kind of relationship. Jack had been sullen and hostile thus far; he was clearly uncomfortable with what he had done. The Doctor wasn't even sure how he felt about it himself. He rubbed the back of his neck.

John Smith's feelings for Jack had certainly been legitimate and they had stirred something within the Doctor as well. But Jack had known very well what he was doing. Was Jack's guilt the reason he was acting like this?

He sighed. Maybe it would be safer just to remain friends, he decided, ignoring the twinge of reluctance in his stomach. The Doctor rolled to his feet and wondered where to take Jack on their first... well, date wasn't really the right word, was it? Outing. Thing. The Doctor thought for a moment. He wondered if Jack had ever been to the Great Bazaar on Catalonia. That was a nice, safe spot for a first thing. It would be nice to have innocent, friendly fun in a safe spot, especially considering the nasty habit things had of getting dangerous all of a sudden.

Something started beeping on the console. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "The X tube! No one's vented the X tube for a month, you poor thing." He frowned. "Well, at least that'll give me something to do while Jack gets his beauty sleep."

**

When Jack woke, he felt perhaps worse than when he'd gone to sleep. His head hurt and underlying that was the raw, heavy ache of losing John. The events of the previous day had been such a shock that he hadn't had time to process it, but now, he keenly felt the gaping hole in his life where his lover had been. He missed the lumpy mattress in John's flat, the teapot whistling in the kitchen, John's arms around him as he kissed Jack awake.

Waking alone for the first time never got any better, he realized, as missing John only compounded missing everyone else he'd ever cared for. But he hadn't really lost John, had he? Whether he hadn't really lost him because he had never really existed or because he was still here in the form of the Doctor, Jack couldn't tell, but he did know he could never have what he had had with John with Doctor.

It wasn't that he didn't like the lifestyle traveling with the Doctor represented–it was the kind of life Jack had lived for a long time now. The truth was, however, that he had appreciated his life with John for being the total opposite of that. He had valued the quiet domesticity of sharing a cup of tea and the Sunday paper. It was the kind of life Jack had been trying to protect for ordinary people, but he had never been able to experience it himself until John. Now, just as suddenly, his life had changed again and he'd been thrust back into life in the TARDIS.

Jack closed his eyes. He had rarely had time to grieve for the people he'd lost and he felt as though he had reached the breaking point. The enormity of having to live forever was hitting him in a way it never had before. Without a doubt, he would outlive everyone he ever cared about. And then what? He had a whole life ahead of him, but at the moment, he didn't really feel like living it.

"Jack?" There was a pounding on the door. Jack groggily opened one eye. "Jack, I know you're in there. Get a move on. We're going to have fun today."

Jack rolled over onto his side, facing away from the door.

"Shopping," the Doctor continued. "Shopping is fun. The Great Bazaar of Catalonia. Have you ever been? It's tons of fun. I know you like... fun things."

There was another pause as he waited for Jack's response.

"Come on," he said finally. There was a trace of pleading in his voice. "You and me, ten thousand other people, pounding sun, obnoxious vendors. It'll be fun. And bizarre." The Doctor jiggled the door handle. "You and me and a bizarre bazaar."

Jack sighed and sat up. He felt like crap, but if he didn't go out there, the Doctor was probably coming in. He grabbed his shoes. This was going to be a hell of a day.