neverwouldiever | Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and other Sounds

That smile was strangely adorable and that really wasn't helping matters. Or maybe it was. The Doctor was always at his best when he cared and he did care, so damn much. About everyone and perhaps about some just a little bit more. Like John, unstable and crazy as he was, but capable of such bravery, so clever with his schemes. He hugged him for a few seconds before pulling away to start scanning the man, working away on a monitor.

"Of course they didn't kick you out. I bet you are just great at tying knots, aren't you?" There, what better way was there to keep John's mind awake than being just a little flirtatious. He thought he knew him well enough to call that. "I'll have to take some blood, John. You're not scared of needles, are you?"

Did -- Did the Doctor just hug him? That was a weird moment. He didn't get many hugs. Oh shit, was that a sign that he was going to actually die? People never hugged him. Fucked him, kissed him, hit him, sure. Everything else was always a little odd to him. Giving the Doctor a look before he hauled himself up onto the nearest surface, just so he could lie down and stop the spinning.

"I got a badge in it," John remarked as he ran his fingers through his hair. Hastily pulling off his jacket, he tossed into onto the floor, desperately needing to be a little cooler because it was harder and harder to breath the hotter it got. Taking a deep breath, he nodded his head and held out his arm. "I'm an addict, you prick. Have a think about it? Course I'm not. Just do it! You've got hours, not days."

He'd seen the progression of this disease, he knew how long he had.

"I know that!" And the Doctor was already beside him, taking some blood into a syringe and then immediately heading the few steps to the med lab the room featured. He put on his glasses, dividing the blood into several probes and getting started on some tests. "I need to isolate the mutated virus so I can modify the cure. I can probably work with it as a base, so it shouldn't be too difficult... If not..." He trailed off there, thinking it better to spend his time with sending a short message to Jack.

"So, what are you addicted to, John? Keep talking to me, alright? Anything you want to."

"Erh, well, I used to have a thing for those bliss patches. Some heroin, Jekkarta, Warlock, LSD -- er, fuck, I can't even," John couldn't think, the ideas were there but he was losing the thoughts. Lurching forward, John coughed hard and harsh, a fit of them racking his body as blood dribble out of his mouth. This was worse for him, way worse than it was for all those people on the planet. They didn't see what happened ahead of time, John had. Organs liquidated, blood leaking out. It was revolting and he knew it was coming.

"I can't think," Wheezing hard, he cleared his throat, slumping back and covering his hand over his eyes because the light was starting to hurt. Light sensitivity was the worst one, too hard to keep the eyes open. And with them closed, it made it so much easier to nod off to sleep. "Turn the light off or dim it. Do something before I have to close my eyes."

Slumping back, he sniffed hard to try and clear his nose, hands tugging idly at his shirt to remove it. Keep talking? How did he talk if he couldn't think? What didn't require thought to talk about? "I don't know what to say. I think Jack would be astounded. Me, not knowing what to say."

The Doctor nodded, immediately stepping over to the nearest control panel to dim the light. Not turning it off completely, he had science to do here. Jack. Of course John would think of Jack now. The Doctor pushed his glasses up so he could bend over and look through a microscope. "Jack, yeah. Well, I think he'd be rather astounded by a lot of things going on with you recently, don't you think? Defeating the Daleks. Playing Doctor. He probably wouldn't even believe it if we told him."

That said he started a machine, standing up to send another message to Jack. He looked at John, making sure he was still awake. "He does like you, you know? All those years he's lived and he still feels for you like that." He looked to the side, picking up a syringe and using it to extract some of the liquid he'd just created. "Stretch your arm out, John. This should at least stabilize your condition for now. Make it a bit more bearable again. I'm developing a cure, don't worry."

"Why'd we have to tell him? He'd make a big deal out of it in a smug annoying way," the reason why the Doctor was easy to be with was that he didn't act like John was a child learning to look both ways when crossing the road whenever he did the right thing. It got under his skin, the way Jack was with him, and it made him want to do worse and worse. The Doctor didn't overly draw attention, he just let him do it. It was nicer, easier to deal with. And besides, it was fun taking the piss out of the Doctor and beating a Dalek all in one go.

Even if John liked him, he always overcomplicated his life. In a horrible sexy way. "He doesn't feel for me. I'm nostalgia. I'm an old reminder of his past, a bad influence. He can go fuck himself," John said drowsily as he stretched his arm out further. His eyes were starting to ache but he stubbornly kept them open, ignoring the horrible mucusy gunk building up in his chest, causing him to cough violent. "I don't change, remember? I relapse. It's not worth making of note of, Doc. Don't get your hopes up."

He wasn't about to change after a few good deeds.

"Maybe you don't change then. But if that's the case, then I reckon you must have been pretty brilliant to begin with." The Doctor injected the shot, rubbing John's arm and monitoring him carefully. Alright, his heart rate was stabilizing, his pupils already less dilated. If this was working then maybe the cure he was working on would work as well. Here was hoping. He held John's hand in his as he kept feeling his pulse, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure the machine was still doing its work.

"When I first met Jack, way back when, I didn't take to him so much. I might have been a bit jealous. Ro... My travel companion at the time. She really took to him. He could be so many things I couldn't, especially at the time." The Doctor shrugged, breathing out in relief. John was looking quite a bit better. Good, he'd bought them some time. "Well. At least not as freely as him, anyway."

"We talked about that, remember? Chess set attack, expelled, all that jazz. Never been brilliant, just been me. And I don't like all this touchy bullshit so knock it off," John insisted, he didn't want to die listening to the Doctor compliment him. His skin cooled a little and John closed his eyes, exhaling slowly because it definitely hurt, it all hurt. And he couldn't bring himself to move. If he could have, he would have slept right then and there. But instead, he forced himself to open his eyes and focus forward.

"He makes everyone jealous, that's his job in life," John turned his head to the Doctor, his chest hurting horrible with every breath. Just because he had more time, didn't mean he was enjoying what time he had. This thing was horrendous. Inside, he felt this horrible nagging feeling that any minute now he was either going to pass out or vomit. And neither were ideal. "You should have taken Jack on this adventure. He would of bounced back in seconds. Us humans, so moral, we're quick to be sick."

"Jack's better off without me." And there was all that guilt again. Of course it would kick in now, definitely the right moment. Right on his way to killing someone. It was his fault and that just made the Doctor even more determined to save him. He did let go of his hand now that he was sure that John was no longer dying. Well. Not right away, at least. Instead he headed back to check on the progress of the science. "And I don't see much reason to be jealous of him anymore now."

He turned around to watch John, both hands on the counter behind him. "Tell me if you feel any change, alright? I... This is going to take a while longer. I'm evolving the cure, making sure it works against the mutated form of the virus. Remember, no falling asleep."

"Yeah, well, ditto. I guess. I don't think he's overly happy when he's with me. So the way I see it is that I shouldn't be around him until he actually wants me to be there. I don't really care for just dealing with anger and resentment. Doesn't turn me on like it used to," John confessed as he slid down, eyes closing unintentionally. It was a lot of effort to pull them open again because all his body wanted to do is recover and rest. And he couldn't do that. "The one thing I can say is that I've never really been jealous of Jack. Not really."

No, he just wanted him, he never wanted to be him. There was nothing from Jack that John wanted as a trait or a part of him. He just wanted Jack as he was and with him. Which he was very aware was a dumb and useless fantasy. "Okay, I'll say. I feel the same right now, just pain. Lots of pain. And I really want to sleep. Fuck, I'd kill to sleep."

Exhaling, he threw one arm over his eyes to cover them from the light. "My eyes are getting worse, you know? Just like that one guy. You know? The first one we saw snuff it. What an ugly way to go."

So it seemed as though Jack had at least some kind of influence over him. Enough to make him do things, anyway, which honestly actually made Jack feel a little proud of himself. "There, see? Not so hard, is it?" He remarked as John began to scrub himself. He moved around back of him, releasing John's wrist and scrubbing at his back, particularly in the harder-to-reach areas that might have otherwise gone neglected.

"I'm mad at you, there's not supposed to be much love at all." Jack's voice was flat and his movements clinical and methodical. "You pull a gun on a friend of mine and start making demands after I'd trusted that you were going to behave for me, of course I'm going to be upset. Doesn't matter if the gun was loaded or not working, accidents still happen." He leaned in to look at John's face and address him more directly. "You're unpredictable and hard to trust." If John were to look at Jack, he'd see that he actually looked a little hurt. "I hate that I can't trust you. I used to put my life into your hands, and now I can't trust you with anything. Maybe I'm not the one who changed."

You're the one who texted a man who can't get sick about getting sick. Not sure what you expected. I haven't exactly been time travelling recently.

I was hoping. Don't worry though, I'm working on the cure. Should be done in time.

In time for what? What the hell is going on over there!?

Well.

In good news, I cured a virus and saved a whole race from dying to an epidemic today!

In bad news, my... The person with me is infected now.

The person with you... from the 51st century.

Well.

Yes.

I get the strong feeling like you're not giving me the whole story. Out with it.

I'm quite busy, aren't I? Developing a cure.

Alright, it's John.

"Yeah, well. The jealousy passed very quickly for me too. For different reasons, probably." With him it had less to do with him wanting Jack than Jack wanting him. Oh, and - moreover - Rose wanting him, he supposed. But that was all so long ago that it barely seemed real anymore. A lot had changed.

"You have to stay awake, John, you know that. I know how stubborn you are, so don't you dare fall asleep." The Doctor looked at him, swallowing before turning away to look through the microscope again. "That guy had been sick for a while. That won't happen to you. I'm hurrying. I already know what to do, I just have to make this work right for your body. By the 51st century your biological make-up is quite evolved. Good thing generally, not so much in this situation. But I can do it. Just stay with me."

"You know, you always talk to me like a child when I do something right. Not a good motivator. Do you do that with your team?" John asked because yes, he knew he reacted in an immature manner but was there really much reason to join in and talk down to him? -- Well, probably. Admittedly a lot of John's problems were caused by John just being John. Something he didn't quite grasp himself, if he was perfectly honest.

"It didn't have bullets and I knew he was going to jam it. He wasn't under any threat. I wouldn't of killed him even if I had bullets, he's the pilot of this thing and the only one who can fix my wrist strap," John admitted because he wasn't stupid and he wasn't going to start pretending he did it for noble reasons. The fact of the matter was he benefited from the Doctor being alive. With a sigh, John reached out and ran his fingers tentatively through Jack's hair, unsure if it was going to get his fingers broken or not. "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? Sorry. I fucked up. But I'm always going to do that. That's why you were there to try and stop that. And maybe you can't. Maybe I am a universal and unending fuck up."

And John didn't actually mind that reality too much, if he was honest. "Doesn't mean I don't try. Well, for you. You're the only person I put any effort in for any more, most people just expect carnage from me."

Edited 2014-10-20 11:09 (UTC)

He's sick? Why is he sick? More importantly, why is he sick with you?

Well. We were in a quarantine zone. I stopped an epidemic!

Which is well and good, but you didn't think that maybe precautions would have been a good idea?

Never mind, just... get him better, okay? Can I help?

"I'm not falling asleep! I'm awake, for fuck sake. Stop nagging me," John complained, waving his hand in dismissal as he tried to get the Doctor to knock that off. He wasn't stupid, he knew how to keep himself away. Though usually he did that through partying and drinking non-stop. Hey, if it worked, it worked. And there people were, trying to sober him up.

"If I vomit out my organs and die here, I'm haunting you. Are ghosts real? Like real real not like echoes? I've never really thought much on it but if they were, I very much want to be here to haunt you," John insisted, even if he didn't really blame the Doctor for it, he figured the TARDIS would be fun place to spend his afterlife. New place, lots of rooms and hell, a guy like this had to have a stash of illegal weapons or booze or something. No one was that good in life, especially not someone who seemed so off. "Or maybe the Torchwood hub. It'd be like being trapped eternally in an elaborate well plotted porno."

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and other Sounds

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