“Let me hold you,” He whispers, his breath a shiver down your spine as his hands grip you tightly from behind, holding you tight and begging you to concede with clenching fingers that are sure to bruise you by morning.
The jerky shake of refusal is all you can give, eyes shut tight and denying. He’s not the same. He’s not the one. He’s not your Doctor. You taste his hurt upon your kiss-bitten lips as he twists you forcefully and claims your mouth with intent. For how can you deny him? Him? Him who you have sought through the many years, crossing time-lines and galaxies just to reach the one place and the one time you’d prayed so desperately- dear god, please!- that he’d return to.
“I can’t,” You breathe against his lips with tears on your cheeks and salt upon your tongue. There is an uncertainty in your voice and he takes it for what it is, stepping in that much closer and pushing at you that much harder till you’re pressed up against a wall with his arms holding you tight and unrelenting.
Your fists are feeble as they try to fight him off and keep him close both at the same time. You don’t know what you want but you know it’s not him. Not him. He’s not your Doctor, not the one you’ve lived too long waiting for.
“Jack,” Your name upon his tongue is a plea; a beg of a whisper asking you to trust him. To trust in him. He’s still the same. He is. He is. And you can only shake your head again with the denial till his hands are upon your face, stilling you and holding you enraptured by his pleading gaze.
“It is me, Jack,” He says with kisses to your lips and brow and cheeks and you close your eyes in bittersweet rapture till he begs you open them and look. Just look at him. Look and do not turn your eyes away.
It is with a flicker, like static running over his face and body- the rippling of skin and the morphing of features till the Doctor of now becomes the Doctor of then, the Doctor of old, and the one he remembers, the one he knows and- and oh god, it hurt, it hurt so goddamned much to see the Doctor like this, his Doctor.
“Jack?” He whispers now and you choke back your tears, calling his name in reply. You’ve never sounded as broken as you do now, reaching up with a tentative hand to touch at the Doctor’s face.
“Oh, Doctor!” You cry before his lips are upon you. Sweet fire and ice racing through you as you cling to him, pulling him closer and allowing yourself to believe- if only for a moment, one second of time- that he’s back, that he came back for you, that everything will be alright now; now that he’s here, in your arms and in your life.
- - -