[MtM] 03.08 - The truth's easy to find in time [forgive me of this crime]

Time doesn't forget. It doesn't forgive either, and he should know because he's watched countless people fade over the years until there is nothing left but the want to forget. For so long he's allowed his life to be linear. One single line stretching out across a span so vast that it's a wonder he just didn't give up. Especially when he could've given up so easily. A thousand times over he could've just walked away. Said, "That was the last time."

He never did, because if it truly was going to be the last time... he wanted to make sure his words didn't ring false to those that heard him. If it was going to be the last time... he wanted the words to be his last.

Time doesn't forget though. It doesn't shelter those that have been cast aside, pushed out of it's way for bigger and bolder things. It doesn't make it easier for those left behind, and so many get left behind that he knows it's always the difficult choice to leave them be. That even if they wanted to know the truth... the truth might not find them so easily.

Standing on the rocky cliffs with the lighthouse to his back he hears the footsteps stumble upon the rock filled grassland. Her voice is calm, soothing... the way it should be when it's the only one you hear beside the sound of your own screams.

"People will look..."

"I know. Most of them will never give up too."

"What will you tell them?"

"Nothing."

"You're alright with that Jack? Knowing someone could be looking for them and not givin' them that peace of mind that they're out there somewhere still alive?"

Turning around he met her gaze with his own, steely and near pained, "That... that isn't alive.. that is just not forgotten." Jack didn't wait for her reply as the ferry came up to shore. The wind caught the inner lining of his coat, billowing it out behind him as he tugged it closer to his form once he got on the deck.

He looked back at her from the confines of the waves, her own features too far away for Jack to recognize the sympathy she was feeling for Jack as well. The answer to one of her questions never answered because when she asked, his answer seemed so definitive.

***
"What happens to them when you're gone? When you come for the last time Jack?"

"There will never be a last time for me."

[EcM] 03.08 - This doesn't have to end in tragedy [I have you and you have me]

The cottage wasn't somewhere that he usually ended up, but the times that he could steal away from her in the small confines of that house he took into him like it was everything he could have from her. At some point during his day he'd find a way to steal into the small building. Out running an errand, dropping off a costume for the theater that needed alterations done... the smaller the chore the easier it was for someone to simply belay the loss of him among the thought that it was simply 'Jack being Jack.' Noted already for the way his charisma seemed to lend him to the easiest of apologies and the most demure of smiles to be bestowed upon him in forgiveness. For all his charm and sincerity there was only one that truly saw through it all.

It was in her company that he actually preferred to be in as well. There was no need to hide himself from her. In the moments when they could slip through time... to visit a museum, or take in a show at a theatre that would astound her, or to simply let her know that what she did actually did matter, he held fast to her hand never letting her slip away from him.

Four months of travel wound down into a near week of actual time. They would leave from one spot and return simply a few hours later. His accuracy becoming more and more perfect the more times they used it. The feeling of being nearly nauseated less and less to the point that all she needed as a steady hand to the small of her back and she was ready to walk the streets of where ever they'd gone.

Now though despite the allure and attraction of going out on some adventure, the times that Jack truly enjoyed where these. Her curled up against him before a fire, his bare chest brushed with the softness of her hair every so often as she shifted to flip a page in her book. She took to wearing his shirts easily, and it's not as if he minds at all, simply for the fact that he thought they fit her better than him. The slender shape of her legs exposed for him to see, which was more of a privilege considering the layers upon layers that usually covered her.

His mouth presses atop her head casually, not exactly briefly either, catching her attention.

"And to what do I owe my gratitude for that?"

Still pressed atop her head he nodded it away, "Nothing... just... we could do this forever you know. Months away at a time only to slip back in an hour after we left." His own mind cuts off the remark about it being exactly what the Doctor did for who knows how long. Still pausing though, hoping that she wouldn't reply... or reject his theory he sighs letting his fingers twine into her hair as he shifts forward letting her fall a bit to his side so he can meet her eyes for a moment, "It was just a thought," became the words he barely breathed upon her lips before kissing her. Because he knew that deep down for either of them to even think about further than a few hours worth of time was far too dangerous for either of them.