Jack sat alone in the bathtub in a cheap hotel on the small moon of Numisao. It was the kind of place that didn't ask questions, nor did they ask for a name if the money was right. It was the perfect place for someone to disappear and that is exactly what Jack wanted to do. He just wanted to be left alone so that he could forget everything that had happened to him during his immortal life and hopefully, in the end, forget himself as well. Only he never could forget and each morning he woke up to the same painful memories of his losses. He could still see Ianto's face as he stared up at him begging him never to forget him. Even if a thousand years passed, he wanted to be remembered and for a moment Jack hated himself as forgetting is exactly what he was trying to do.
After Ianto's death, he had traveled. Never staying in one place very long as he tried to find somewhere that he actually fit in the universe. Along the way, he had heard people talking about fearing death and actually wishing they were immortal. Jack knew better, however, and immortality wasn't something that he would wish upon anyone else. How were the fools suppose to know that it wasn't the blessing that they pictured? It was a curse that made you watch everyone you loved and cared about die until you were the only one standing alone in the darkness screaming.
With that thought, Jack reached over and picked up the small knife that he brought with him to the tub. He flicked it open to reveal a blade that he had sharpened until it cut easily. He placed the blade against his wrist and with one quick swipe, opened the vein. He felt the burning pain of the incision followed by the hot blood pouring from his veins. He rested his wrist on the edge of the tub as he felt the blood leaving his body. At one time, he hated to die. While that was still true in some cases, dying by the knife was different.
He still remembered the first time that he had slit his wrist. He had been drinking and the alcohol was no longer having the effect he wanted. Due to his high metabolism and Autron energy fueled body he was never able to drink enough to drink himself to death. So night after night, he was still cursed with the nightmares. Until one night, he had enough. He knew it was useless as he slashed into his wrist for the first time but still he had tried to kill himself. Hoping that once and for all he wouldn't wake in the morning. He found out, though, that the loss of blood made it hard for him to regenerate. He was tired afterward and climbed into bed sleeping more soundly than he had in years. He tried not to use the knife again after that, but the feeling had become a comfort of some kind. He knew it was wrong, yet he couldn't stop himself from killing himself just to sleep peacefully for a few hours.
Even now he could feel his head becoming heavy and the thoughts that plagued him constantly drifting away. He could still see Ianto's face and knew he always would. He let the darkness overwhelm him, welcoming it like an old friend. Then everything stopped. For a moment there was nothing but an overwhelming darkness with a light in the distance that he could never reach. He hung there feeling free until he was forced back into his body with the first breath in. Opening his eyes to the hotel bath, he pulled himself up out of the bloody water. Emptying the water, he then took a quick shower to clean up before stumbling his way wet and naked to his bed. He stopped in the doorway, however, when unlike the many times before now there was someone else currently in his room.
The man didn't look at him as he snooped through Jack's belongs. He moved his trousers aside on the chair looking underneath them. He picked up Jack's shirt, sniffed it with an unhappy face before throwing it aside. He looked at the whiskey bottles that had gathered in the corner of the room. The room was as uncared for as the man standing in the doorway watching him. Finally, brown eyes turned on him. The owner of them had his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked at his one-time friend and companion.
"What happened to you?" The Doctor questioned softly, his voice full of concern.
"It doesn't matter," Jack replied as he stumbled to his bed. He collapsed down on it, just wanting to sleep. He didn't care that the lithe man was here. He would be gone soon anyways as he never did care enough about Jack to stay long. "Just do what you do best and leave."
"I'm not leaving you here," The Doctor told him. Jack turned his head to glare at him.
"You never cared before so I don't know why you are pretending to care now. You never had time for me Doc and I have come to accept that. What I don't understand is why you had to let the others die. They were innocent," Jack yelled at the Time Lord. The Doctor didn't flinch or turn away from his harsh words.
"I'm sorry," The Doctor replied, not sure what else to say.
"You should be," Jack snipped at him. He flopped down on the bed, turning his back to the Doctor. He didn't bother covering in the warm room and if the Doctor didn't like his nakedness, that wasn't Jack's problem. "If you aren't going to leave then the least you can do is shut up and let me sleep."
"Fine," the Doctor replied. He pushed Jack's trousers onto the floor with his foot before sitting down in the chair. He crossed his arms while he waited silently for Jack to drift off. Once he was sure that he was asleep, he stood up. It was obvious that Jack needed help and he was the best one to provide it. He could deal with Jack's anger if it allowed Jack to talk to him. In order to help him, though, he needed to know what he was dealing with. So with Jack asleep, he once more began exploring the room for answers.