It's all AU.

Koschei wandered out of the 5th dimensional mathematics section of the library, finally done with studying, and off to find Theta who...hadn't been studying. Into a busy street. Still in dark academic robes.

"That's...not right," he said slowly, confused.

Jack approached the Doctor he'd first known and tapped him on the shoulder.

When he turned around Jack threw a hard right hook that caught him right across the jaw.

"And that, you son of a bitch, is for turning into an even crazier bastard than you already were, who ran away and left me to rot."

Issues, what?

The Doctor was, in an uncharacteristic gesture, not wearing any clothes.

At all.

He was, however, soaking wet, stomping his way into the hotel lobby.

He eyed the Doctor for several long moments, thinking about the warning he'd gotten. Then he shrugged, walked up to him, grabbed him by the lapels of his coat, and stuck his tongue half-way down his throat.

Easiest way in the world to figure out what was going on.

Well. To Jack.

( Harry and Lucy's arrival – cut for length )

For a long moment, Harry stood where he was and gazed around at the corridor, puzzled and irritated because he didn't understand what had happened – where they were, how they'd got here, or why Lucy had run off like that. He could also feel one of his familiar headaches starting up, the annoying duh-duh-duh-dum rhythm thudding in his head.

He sighed, pursed his lips and set off towards the stairs, to see what there was to be seen. He ended up in a hotel lobby. Most peculiar.

At least there were people here. He let a couple go by, and put a hand out to the sleeve of one of them, to stop them. "Excuse me," he said politely – but with authority. "Could you tell me where I am?"

Romana was happily, even obnoxiously, poking around random buildings with her brand new sonic screwdriver. She had no idea what she might turn up, or if she'd come up with anything meaningful. It was entertaining her at the moment.

The Master was back in his gloves. He'd been rattled by his encounter with yet another Jack, and watching him clash so bitterly with his Doctor. He'd projected calm for Jack's sake and for his Doctor's sake, but he'd hated it.

He sat outside a cafe, with a pot of tea, attempting to process everything that had happened the last few days. Trying shake the morass of guilt he knew wasn't doing anyone any good.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, staring at a cyberman helmet in a hall of alien artifacts; lost museum wing. Cyberman helmet, Dalek plating, Sontorian armor. All laid out neatly. Bloodlessly.

( Spoiler for DW 4.6 within )

The Doctor was sitting on a park bench, eating ice cream and taking in. Everything. He was starting to get a handle on how to regulate the energy he'd stored up from Jack, and he was mentally fairly well settled. Everything felt crisp, but not sharp. And he was calm.

It was amazing. A temporary solution to his issues, but an aid he was going to damn well use while he had access to it. Like giving medication to a PTSD patient, while they got going on long term therapy.

Jack went back to his TARDIS, to make sure she was OK, and to add the information he'd discovered.

He found the right tree, and was about to unlock the ship, when someone he hadn't seen for hundreds of years walked out the shadows.

"She's mine," Jack told him. "Working chameleon circuit, too."

There was no doubt in Jack's mind, after his conversation with the Master, that he was going to look for the Doctor. The one who had remade himself in the image of a soldier and dressed himself in black. There was, unfortunately, some doubt that he was going to be able to find him.

If the Doctor -that Doctor- was still here, Jack would find him. If he wasn't, Jack was just going to have to accept the fact that sometimes second chances were missed.

He told himself he was prepared for that possibility, but from the amount of relief he felt when he saw that familiar form headed toward a TARDIS, he'd been lying to himselself. He left the hotel at a jog to catch up. "Doctor!"

The Doctor looked the Master up and down for a moment before turning around and stepping into pace with him, heading back the way he'd come from to walk with the Master. He asked curiously, "Are you one of the nutters?"

He was reading while he walked; it was an acquired skill, and, apparently, one he hadn't quite acquired yet. He kept weaving as he walked, from one side of the sidewalk to the other until he finally, inevitably, stumbled off of the sidewalk and onto the street. He gave the curb an offended look, "What you do that for?"

Which was, of course, the time he caught sight of his younger self. He blinked, frowned, then tilted his head, "You're here then."

The Master was sitting at one of the tables savoring a shot of whiskey as he waited for people to show up. He'd traded out of his usual politician's suit, for a longer, more closely tailored knee length jacket, and had actually lost the tie. The white rose remained pinned, of course.

Everything was set up. Tables, large enough for 4 or 5 people to sit comfortably, around the outside of the room. Food and open bar at the far wall from the doors. And still a fairly large space in the middle for dancing. It was going to be interesting to see how many people showed up, because frankly he wasn't sure what the population of the town was. He couldn't help but wonder, given the malleable and mind bending nature of the this place - if more people showed up then could really fit, would the room mysteriously seem bigger? It wasn't a completely absurd idea, here.

As predicted, there were no Doctors with red roses and black converses in sight, yet.

He'd left, surprisingly enough; never knew he'd lost any time. He went to earth. He met a girl named Rose. He traveled with her, he moved on. He brought her to see her father before he died.

He watched her create a paradox and was destroyed by it.

Into the belly of the monster and. Out into a hotel lobby. Everything rushed back and he groaned, "Bollocks."

( Cut for length and relevance )

So here he was, having a drink, turning to the person next to him to have a chat. Maybe it would put him in a better mood.

Jack had too many things to think about. Immortality, the Doctor, Brant...yeah, that one was taking up most of his mind. Falling in love with a kid who'd barely left home, who he'd only ever encounter in a place outside time, and by all accounts, who he wouldn't remember when he went back to Cardiff.

He'd fallen out of the habit of getting blind drunk to escape thinking, and although he was pretty sure he'd be able to lay his hands on recreational drugs somewhere in this place, he'd been there, done that.

That left him with his usual retreat.

Get somewhere high and avoid thinking about any of it.

It was probably coincidence that took him back to the balcony where he'd first met Brant.

The Doctor wrapped his hands around a cup of coffee, sniffing it supiciously as he wandered out into the lobby of the hotel. "What's this about then?"

The Doctor peered out of the hotel room he'd claimed, stepping out a moment later, heading for the end of the corridor with a slightly digruntled expression on his face a moment. He'd almost hoped he'd open the door, and step back into the Hub, but... Oh, well, the universe hadn't done something nice for him since the Time War - at least - and he really didn't expect it to start now. Though, at least he hadn't run into Rose since that conversation yesterday.

If he was honest with himself, which he had no intention of being right now, he was trying to avoid running into Rose again. Or, for that matter, anyone else he even vaguely knew. He really didn't want to deal with any of them right now. Either angry at him, or dead, or just plain insane in his own world, the difference between what he knew, and the people he met here was... unsettling, a little. A lot, in some cases.

He paused, peering around the corner, and then stepping quickly to the rail of the stairs, looking down them to see if there was anyone on them. Well, before he looked up. And so didn't spot someone coming down quickly enough to hide. "Oh. Hello." He gave the person a sheepish grin, stepping back from the railing, and shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather coat.