fh_alumni | Time Agency Hub: Fifty-first Century [Fandom time

	"JACK!"
	It was all the warning Jack had before he was barrelled into by six foot plus of highly exuberant young man and hugged. "Ooof." He was exhausted, smudged, smelled vaguely of burnt things, and he was almost positive two of his ribs were cracked, but - once he realised who was hugging him - he returned it. "Hey, Jason." He really was fond of the kid.
	Jason was bouncing as he let go, grinning hugely. "What are you doing here?"
	Jack glanced over his shoulder at a gaggle of Jason-aged people, watching with expressions ranging from bemused to jealous. "Just got in," he said with a weary smile, which was no answer and as much as he could give. "You?"
	"We're here for a training sim. And we aced it!" he proclaimed proudly. "Best score ever since they've been running it!"
	Jack dragged a few dregs of energy up from he didn't know where and grinned back at him. "Good job! Not that I'm surprised," he added and ruffled his hair. "And when did you get so tall?"
	"Don't know." Jason didn't know whether to blush or beam or hug Jack again, so he settled for grinning more. "Thanks, Jack."
	"No problem. Now," he waved a hand at the gawking gaggle, "you have people waiting for you - I'm sensing an impending night on the town - and I really need a shower."
	Jason's grin faded as he actually looked at Jack, taking in the smell, the smudges, and his flagging energy. "You okay?"
	For one split second, his façade slipped, and he looked as exhausted, as sick, as he felt.
	Jason reacted without thinking, stepping forward, blocking Jack from the view of his class mates, and touched his shoulder. "Jack?" he asked quietly.
	It snapped him back to where he was. "I'm fine," he laughed. "Better than fine. I'm Jack Harkness. It only goes up from there."
	It eased him and he nodded, stepping back, puppy dog exuberance returning. "Okay, you should go shower, because you kind of smell," he teased. "And if you're up for it," he looked at Jack hopefully, "we'll be at the Wolf's Head."
	"Maybe," Jack replied, feeling about a hundred years old as he turned, heading for his quarters. Not that he was ever in them for more than a few nights, but his stuff was there, and right now he just wanted to fall on his face for…forever sounded okay. "Look after yourself," he called over his shoulder.
	"Bye, Jack." Jason lifted a hand and let it fall, watching Jack walk away. "Jason! You coming or what?" "On my way," he called, glancing down the hall where Jack had disappeared before rejoining his classmates. "Who was that?" one of them asked. "That was Jack Harkness," another answered. The revelation was greeted with cat calls and ooohhhs of intrigue. "Apparently," the second speaker continued, "our Jason is a good friend of his." Jason blushed and shook his head. "I've run into him a couple of times, is all. Are we going to find this bar or are we going to stand around here gossiping?"

* * *

A shower, a couple of incredible painkillers, and a brief nap later, Jack was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He couldn't close his eyes.

Clichéd as it was, he could see them when he closed his eyes.

Rolling off the bed and to his feet, hissing at the mild protest from his ribs, he threw on some clothes and left. There was more than one bar in this place, and right now he needed a damn drink.

* * *

There might be more than one bar. There might, in fact, be more than ten, and Jack had been to every one of them before strolling into the Wolf's Head.

Jason had been keeping an eye on the doors, just in case Jack showed. He didn't actually think he would, but if he did, he wasn't going to miss him. Which is how he was able to bounce to his feet and wave madly the minute he walked in. "Jack! Over here!"

He almost turned around and walked out. Almost. Instead, after a brief hesitation, he bounded up the stairs and snagged a chair at the head of the table. "If it isn't the delicious Jason and his lovely friends."

Jason blushed while the others laughed. "Jack!"

"That's me," he replied, signalling for a round of drinks, settling himself in for the night. "Now, introduce me to everyone."

As the night progressed and the drinks disappeared, Jack got quieter, his flirting and charm developing a razor edge, and in ones and twos, the others drifted away.

Jason stayed. There was something…off about Jack, and he was not going to leave him alone.

* * *

	The bar was almost empty, only Jack and Jason left at the table, both sitting in silence. Jason was staring with drunken myopia at the empty glasses when Jack began to speak. "They were already dead," he muttered. "Been dead for thousands of years."
	"Jack?"
	"Had to watch them burn." He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead against the table, clenched his hands so hard they were shaking.
	"Jack…"
	"They all burned alive." He laughed, dark and bitter. "But we got what we went there for. And they were dead, anyway. How doesn't matter, right? Beauty of time travel."
	Jason sat, helpless, watching Jack, then tentatively reached out a hand and touched him.
	Jack flinched.
	Jason stared. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "It's okay. You're safe, it's all right." He was talking like he'd talk to an animal back on the farm, one that was trapped and hurt and frightened. If he hadn't been trying to keep up with Jack, match him drink for drink, he wouldn't have moved closer. Wouldn't have started rubbing his back in long, even strokes, while he talked. He didn't even know what he was saying, was just babbling soothing nonsense, but he didn't stop.
	Eventually it got through. Jack slowly came back to himself, realised where he was, what he'd said, who he'd said it to. Oh god. He'd known this was a bad idea. "I'm okay."
	Jason wasn't sure he believed him, but he paused and leaned closer to peer at him. "Are you sure?"
	"I'm sure." He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.
	"Jack, what…"
	"Don't ask." He lifted his head and met Jason's eyes, for once not trying to hide anything. "Don't ask. Forget what I said."
	It was Jason's turn to flinch, but he nodded.
	"Good boy. And now we need more drinks."
	He signalled the bartender, made a complicated motion with his hands Jason couldn't follow. She grinned and brought over a pitcher of what looked like liquid evil, and two glasses. "What is that?"
	"Trust me, you'll like it." Jack filled the glasses and set one in front of Jason.
	"Should we drink to something?" If he hadn't witnessed it, he'd never have believed Jack had been anything but his usual charming self.
	"No." He tossed his drink back and slammed the glass on the table.
	Jason did the same, except he added a coughing fit on the end of it.
	"Yeah, the first one's always like that." Jack patted him on the back until he stopped coughing, but didn't move his hand away. After a minute, maybe two, he slid his arm around Jason's shoulders, pulling him close for a brief second, and very, very quietly said, "Thanks."
	"You're my friend, Jack," he said slowly as the bar tilted sideways then righted itself. "You don't have to thank me."
	The words hurt, but he didn't let it show, just grinned and poured two more. "Maybe not, but I do have to share this pitcher with you."

* * *

	Yeah, a pitcher of black evil had not been the best idea. Jason was so drunk he was practically a liquid, half draped over Jack as they made their way to Jack's quarters.
	"Don't know where mine went," Jason said and laughed. "They were here. Someone stole them."
	"Uh huh." He shoved his thumb against the reader and the door slid open, spilling them both into the room, and Jack had to brace his feet and grab Jason around the waist to stop him from hitting the floor. It was, he realised, the first time anyone else had been in here.
	Jason blinked, staring around the room. "You have the neatest stuff!"
	"Bed."
	"No thank you, I only like girls," he said formally, then laughed again.
	Jack rolled his eyes and tipped him onto the bed. "So you've said." He wasn't that much better off than Jason, but at least he was sober enough to know that, right now, he could not be trusted. That was why he pulled the top blanket off the bed and dropped it on the floor, followed by a pillow he had to wriggle out from under Jason's head.
	Jason smiled sweetly up at him, eyes barely focusing. "You'll be okay, Jack. I can look after you."
	"You can't even walk," he pointed out, scrubbing a hand across his face.
	"Yeah, but you helped me, so I could. And I can help you." He yawned and closed his eyes, snuggling down, happy and warm. "You don't have to sleep on the floor. This bed's big enough for us to share."
	Temptation shot through him, sharp and hot, burning off some of the alcoholic haze, but he stamped on it. "In the words of a very good friend of mine, you are a dork," he muttered, turning away to lie on the floor, rolling up in the blanket and resigning himself to an incredibly uncomfortable night.
	"What's a dork?"
	"Look in a mirror sometime. That's a dork. Go to sleep."
	"Okay," he said obediently. "Night, Jack." It was a barely audible mumble, and then he was asleep - or passed out - snoring lightly.
	"Goodnight, Jason." It was a very long time before Jack slept, but when he finally closed his eyes, he didn't see anything but darkness.