#( donna noble voice OI WATCH IT SPACEMAN )

[orangetintedglasses]

Anonymous said: well what is your scent space boy

"I dunno, 'got a shower last night'? I don't think I smell like anything the majority of the time--"

[halfbakedideas]

Days That Pass

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt: ‘count the days’.

—x—x—x—

The Doctor with the new-old face moved in with the Temple-Nobles. That in itself wasn’t hard. What was hard was actually living with them.

He had never been one to stay still for long. They’d been bad at it when he’d last worn this face; but nowhere near as bad as their fish-fingers-and-custard self. That one had been downright awful at stillness.

They managed a grand total of four hours of ‘still’ on the first day before he’s up and moving again, heading back into the TARDIS. Not to leave — he wasn’t going to leave, he’d promised their future self and Donna that he would stay in 2024.

Even though they knew that, Donna didn’t; she followed him to the TARDIS.

“You better not be trying to leave already, Spaceman,” Donna’s voice sounded out from behind him, echoing slightly.

They spun on his heel.

“What? Oh. no, no…I’m not. Came in here to do some repairs after how the TARDIS crashed yesterday,” The words tumbled out of their mouth.

She ended up sitting with him while they fiddled about beneath the console doing repairs that weren’t that urgent (the TARDIS could fix herself for the most part) but certainly helped quieten the nagging urge to run.

The days passed. The Doctor found himself counting the days. It’s not a conscious thing, at first. They wanted to make sure he would remember absolutely everything that happened during this period.

It was weird, counting up the days they spent with the Temple-Nobles instead of counting down to something ending.

…Okay that was a lie. He was also counting down. Counting down the days he had left with Donna before he lost her for a second, far more permanent time.

The last time he had worn this face all those years ago, they had made the mistake of going and finding out all the details surrounding Donna’s death.

It had been comforting (mostly) back then, to know she would be surrounded by family at her passing. The details had been comforting then, but not so much anymore. Because now he had their best friend back again and every day that passed meant one day closer to when they would lose her again.

So the Doctor did what he did when faced with any particularly negative thing: run away. Only this time no actual running was done.

They started another counter. Counting up.

Twenty-four days after the bigeneration, he bought a house. It was the solution to the looming problem of all the damage done to the Temple-Nobles’ house. Damage that he had responsible for. Blue tarps had been a temporary fix but a more permanent solution was needed.

The house-buying had nothing to do with the stepping-on-toes feeling that plagued him the entire month, not at all.

The Doctor defined this counter, the increasing one, with moments. Sitting outside to watch the sunrise with Donna; Helping Rose with her homework; Somehow managing to improve his interactions with Sylvia so they don’t run the risk of being slapped (again); Even sneaking out in the TARDIS with Rose to take her to see purple sunsets or try alien ice cream. Amongst dozens of other memories.

Despite how much they filled their days with, the Doctor’s still acutely aware of the counter counting down. No matter how much they tried to lose track of it he couldn’t, his brain wouldn’t let them.

It was Thursday, game night. Everyone was gathered in the living room to play The Game of Life. The Doctor was sitting on the sofa, with Rose to his right and the armrest to their left.

Later he would realise this wasn’t the best choice of game. They’d only chosen it because it was space-themed. But right now he was too busy being zoned out.

“Oi, Martian, your turn,” Donna called, leaning forward from Rose’s other side to look at them properly.

It was their turn yet they were blankly staring at the table like he had for the last twelve minutes. Donna would bet good money he wasn’t actually seeing the board.

He saw an older Donna being told she only had four months left to live, and then their best friend on her deathbed. The memories of a future yet to happen (and might not even happen anymore) had frozen them in place.

“Doctor?” Rose tried. A moment passed and still nothing.

When this happened before, he’d be back to normal again within minutes. Not this time.

“Take your turn, Mum,” Donna told Sylvia before she stood up and crossed around the table towards the Doctor. “Spaceman?”

They’d zoned out like this before, touch had brought him back out then so maybe it would now.

Donna reached out and touched the back of his hand. As soon as her fingertips touched, the Doctor jerked backwards, back thumping against couch cushions.

Some images slipped through from the contact, of an older version of herself. She only saw it for a few seconds but that was enough time to realise what it was : Their memories of her last moments.

He knew how she was going to die. It felt wrong for her to have seen it.

“Is it my turn?” they asked.

“You know how I die,”

He froze where they’d been reaching towards the spinner. “Yeah, I do…You weren’t supposed to see that,”

“So what, you were gonna keep it secret forever?”

“No! Not forever. And it might not even happen like that anymore,”

“How long have you known?” It’s hard to keep the horror-concern out of her voice. The last time he had zoned out was because he had been remembering her death.

The Doctor looked away.

“Not long I took you home,” That was very specifically vague.

That wasn’t the last time the Doctor got lost in those memories. The two of them eventually talk about it at-length, and Donna finds out about their counting down counter.

They’d always know exactly how long they had left with Donna, that would always loom over his head, but adjusting to the slower life in 2024 helped. Distracting themself with both mundane and adventurous things helped. Spending more time with Donna helped.

[sunniebelle]

Surprises In Store

She thought it was a mistake, at first, but it seems destiny is determined to bring Rose and James together.

(tagging @doctorroseprompts)

Ten x Rose AU

Ao3

Rose’s morning had not been going well. Sleeping in was a luxury she was rarely afforded, yet her alarm failing to go off on time had allowed her to indulge an extra fifteen minutes this morning. The rush of adrenaline when she discovered this made it easy for her to beat her record for quickest clothing change and make-up application she could remember, though she chose not to fuss with her hair aside from flipping it upside down and teasing it to give it volume.

And of course, this would naturally be the day for her to realize she’s out of both tea and coffee—though to be fair, there really wasn’t time for either, already needing to run to catch her bus. Scarfing down a piece of toast, she ran out the front door and tore down the stairs, thankful that her job allowed her to wear trainers.

The only thing that kept her from giving up and wanting to return home to hide from the expectations of the day was the fact that she managed to make her bus, though just barely. And there were far fewer people boarded today than normal. She hoped that might allow her to make up some time.

A few minutes later, bright smile lighting her face, she stepped off the bus with still several minutes to spare. If she hurried, she’d have time for a coffee run at the recently opened coffee shop adjacent to Henrick’s. She’d not been in there yet and this morning she could really use the caffeine.

She made her way through the front entrance of Kasterborous Coffee, thankful there was only one person queued before her. Smiling pleasantly at the young woman helping her, Rose made quick work of paying for her coffee and moving to retrieve her drink.

So anxious was she to get to work on time, she turned hastily to exit the coffee shop and ran directly into a solid body, her coffee spilling down her front.

Her momentum bouncing her off the man, as well as the shock of hot coffee drenching her, resulted in her losing her footing slightly. Strong, long fingered hands grasped her biceps in a gentle but firm grip, helping her regain her balance.

Her gasped sputtering and muttered curses were suddenly drowned out by the smooth sounds of an Estuary accented voice talking quickly and apologizing profusely.

Her eyes traveled up the lean figure of the brown pinstriped suited man, all her anger, and any temptation of shouting at him to watch where he was going, suddenly flew from her mind. She was immediately captivated by his handsome face, hair styled in a modern sticky-uppy fashion, and deep brown eyes that looked at her sharply but with genuine concern. He suddenly stopped talking, allowing her brain a moment to restart and no longer focus on his pouty lower lip.

“Miss? You alright?” he asked anxiously, bending slightly to catch her eye and look her over for possible injury (apart from a mild scalding due to hot coffee, anyway).

“Yeah, yeah. ‘M fine, thanks. Just…mind’s a bit scrambled, I guess,” she laughs.

He smiles, words seeming to tumble from his mouth. “Sorry about that. So sorry. I was a mite distracted, but of course, if I’d been paying attention then we wouldn’t be in this predicament, would we?” he asks, pulling on an earlobe. “Then again, if you’d watched where you were going, you might’ve avoided me altogether. Oo, was that rude? That was a bit rude, wasn’t it. Donna’s always gettin’ onto me about that, being rude, that is. Not running into lovely ladies and spilling their coffees on them. She’d probably give me a slap if she saw me now, too.” His jaw suddenly snapped closed, as though the thought of this Donna person giving him a slap was the only thing keeping more words from exiting his mouth.

Watching his face turn a bit pink as he continued to tug on his ear nervously, she wasn’t sure whether to be irritated for being insulted by him, or amused by his rambling and embarrassment. She thought his adorable ‘kicked puppy’ look made up for the insults.

“No, it’s fine, really. No permanent damage. I’m sure a good wash’ll get this right out. And I bet one of my coworkers has a shirt or something I can borrow.”

It suddenly dawned on her that she was likely to be late clocking in unless she left immediately. And her witch of a manager, Cassandra was unlikely to have any pity for her regardless of the circumstances surrounding her tardiness.

“Sorry, gotta run. My boss’ll have my head if ’M late. Um, well… bye, then.” Not giving the man any time to reply, Rose shot out of the coffee shop, throwing away her nearly empty cup on the way. She managed to make it just in time to clock in, roughly thirty seconds from being officially late. Lucky for her, since a reprimanding from Cassandra would have been the icing on the cake to her day that she really didn’t need.

The rest of the day seemed to drag, allowing her mind plenty of free time to wonder about the bloke who was the cause of her wearing a slightly too-small shirt (borrowed from Linda with a y; though her perkiness could at times be annoying, she had turned out to be a good friend). Too many times Rose had to drag her mind back to what she needed to be focused on and away from thinking of her mystery man.

The feel of his long-fingered hands gripping her arms, what it might feel like to run her hands through his great—really great—hair, or to puts a kiss to his tempting, pouty lower lip.

Stop it! God, what was wrong with her?! It was one disastrous meeting and now her mind would not stop thinking about him. She didn’t even know his name!

She’d likely never see him again, which was just as well. She would probably wind up making a fool of herself. He looked too well off to want anything to do with a shopgirl from the estates who never got A-levels. It was time to put all thoughts of the handsome stranger behind her.

Her resolve crumbled many times over the next few days, but slowly she was able to leave all thoughts of Mr. Sticky-Uppy Hair behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Almost a month to the day of the coffee incident, Rose walked into Kasterborous Coffee. This morning seemed to be going much smoother for her, so far at least. There hadn’t seemed to be any major problems cropping up, and she was really looking forward to enjoying a cup of coffee on a rare day off.

However, she got quite the shock when she finally went to order.

Standing behind the counter was the man she’d bumped into, still looking amazing with his wild hair that defied gravity and brown pinstriped suit that seemed to hug his frame perfectly. His bewildered look quickly gave way to a bright smile and twinkling chocolate-brown eyes. She spared a moment to think that he really had no right to look that gorgeous, it wasn’t fair since he seemed to be able to scramble her thoughts with a single look.

“Hello!” he proclaimed brightly. “Come to get a coffee? Don’t worry, I’m behind the counter today so it’s unlikely I'll drench you with it.”

Laughing with him, she smiled brightly, her brain suddenly working again.

“Yeah, I generally prefer to drink my coffee rather than wear it,” she teased him, smiling with just a hint of her tongue showing. She felt a pleasant jolt when she saw his eyes stare at her mouth.

Seeming to realize what he was doing, he blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, coffee! What kind would you like? Cappuccino? Or maybe a latte? Oh, we have a brilliant espresso that tastes brilliant with caramel or chocolate?”

Rose felt rather bemused for several moments as he threw out possible suggestions of drinks she might like. Before she could say anything though, a red haired woman walked up and smacked him hard on the arm.

“Oi! What was that for?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm, managing to look simultaneously offended and a bit scared.

“To get you to shut up, Spaceman. If you’d stop blathering away at the poor girl she might be able to tell you what she wants!” The ginger woman's face and voice told of her exasperation, but there was a hint of a mischievous smile peeking through and humor danced in her eyes as she winked at Rose.

He gave Rose a sheepish smile as the woman walked off, muttering under her breath about idiots and outerspace dunces.

“Spaceman?” Rose asked, puzzling over the odd name.

“Oh, that’s one of the many nicknames Donna has for me. Not sure why she calls me that, honestly. Started when we were kids and it seemed to stick, I guess. Anyway, my name’s James Noble.”

She shook the hand he offered, trying to ignore the tingling she felt when they touched. “’M Rose, Rose Tyler.”

“Lovely to meet you Rose Tyler!” She wasn’t sure what to make of the pleasant feeling that flowed though her at hearing him say her name like that, as though he were caressing it.

She nodded and smiled, not trusting her voice. When he asked again for her drink order, after a pointedly cleared throat from a customer behind her, she ordered the first thing she saw on the display, which happened to be a mocha latte. She balked a bit when he wouldn’t let her pay for it, declaring that he owned her one since he caused her to spill hers last time. Feeling a bit flustered, but in a good way, she chose not to argue the point, not wanting to hold up the queue any longer.

When she made to get her drink, she was handed a large cup, a generous helping of whipped cream and chocolate shavings decorating the top. Since business had dramatically picked up, she wasn’t able to talk to James longer than to say goodbye.

Aimlessly strolling the busy walkway, completely forgetting anything else she'd had planned that day, she sipped at her drink and let her mind wander. What were the chances that she had met him again? And working in the shop next door, at that!

Just as Rose was trying to pull her thoughts away from the handsome James Noble, she noticed a flash of color on the cup’s sleeve. There, written in blue ink, was James’ phone number. His…phone number. He had given her—her—his phone number!

A megawatt smile lighting her face, Rose slipped the sleeve off the cup and tucked it into her pocket, before throwing the cup away. Pulling out her phone to look up the hours of operation for Kasterborous Coffee, she headed home, all the while making plans for an important phone call later in the day. Not even realizing she was chewing her cuticle a bit, she ran through possible conversation topics and what she might say, and what he might say back.

Though she wasn’t sure what would happen in the near future, she was certainly excited to find out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Happy Birthday, @creativebec! Hope you have a lovely Birthday, Bec!

[raywritesthings]

Oi! Don’t Blink!

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones, Wilfred Mott, Donna Noble Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble Summary: Donna Noble's investigations into trouble lead her to an old house in Wester Drumlins. Meanwhile, the Doctor is flagged down by a different person to tell him about his future. Notes: Hey everybody. I feel bad I haven't posted much as of late, and then I remember I had this plot bunny sitting in my google docs. I have some other scenes from the episode sketched out, but I thought just the general concept could stand on its own and I wanted to give you all something to read. Not sure when I'll get around to writing the rest of it which is why this is listed as complete for now, but if you see additional chapters at a later date, don't be surprised. Anyway, I think this idea was inspired by an article somebody wrote some months (years?) back about how Sally Sparrow from Blink was asked to be a companion after Martha, and the writer of the article was...let's say dismissive at best of Donna and Catherine Tate's ability. So me, being the rather petty person I am at times, decided to write a story where there is no Sally Sparrow. That being said, I mean no offense to Sally or her actress (Carey Mulligan, I think?) or fans of them. I think "Blink" is a good standalone episode in its own right. This is just me having a bit of fun. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! *Can be read on my AO3*

It was an otherwise unremarkable day. The Doctor and Martha had ended up a few years into her personal future, which he ordinarily tried to avoid. But lizards were notoriously difficult to schedule, particularly when it came to their hatchlings.

They’d been on the chase all afternoon, on foot for most of it. As time had quickly begun to run out, however, he’d flagged down a taxi.

“Pull over here,” he instructed the driver. They’d have to run the rest of the way, but it was better that no one else get too close.

Martha started to reach for her wallet as the taxi stopped.

“I’ve got it,” he said quickly, reaching into his pockets. “Can’t have you circulating cash out of its proper time.”

“You carry money?” Martha looked rather impressed with him.

“Well, someone told me I ought to,” he replied evasively.

Martha’s smile dimmed. “Right.” She got out of the taxi without waiting for him, so he hurriedly finished paying and clambered out onto the pavement.

He hadn’t gone two paces when someone called out to him. “Hey, Doctor!”

The Doctor spun about on the balls of his feet. There was an old man sitting at a newsstand in a checkered shirt and jumper, and he was grinning broadly at him.

“I thought it was. Saw you getting out of that taxi, and I thought, ‘Well, there he is!’ Didn’t expect you by today.”

“Oh, well I’m passing through, really. Sort of on my way elsewhere,” he found himself explaining to the stranger. 

“Doctor, we haven't got time for this.” Martha had come back up the road to get him. “The migration's started.”

“Right, in a bit of a rush. Sorry.”

He made to rejoin Martha, and the man chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, wouldn’t want to hold you up. But, ah, aren’t you missing someone? Eh?”

“Er…” The Doctor did a quick headcount. Him and Martha, just like he’d thought. “No, no I don’t think so. Sorry, have we actually met before?”

The smile finally dropped off the old man’s face. “Haven’t we?”

“Doctor, please. Twenty minutes to red hatching,” Martha reminded.

“Look, sorry, I've got a bit of a complex life,” he tried to explain as quickly as he could. “Things don't always happen to me in quite the right order. Gets a bit confusing at times, especially at weddings. I'm rubbish at weddings, especially my own.”

“Well, don’t be too hard on yourself. I thought you were alright,” said the man.

The Doctor froze. “What?”

But the stranger’s eyes had widened with some kind of realization. “Oh, this is the day, isn’t it?”

“Hold on, what day?” The Doctor was still having trouble trying to figure out why this man had an opinion on his hypothetical wedding performance.

“Yeah, she said you wouldn’t know. Listen, you’ve got to take this.” He leaned down and pulled out a sealed bag stuffed with what looked to be a number of things. “Everything’s in there you’ll need.”

“Need for what?” He took the bag anyway.

“Doctor!” Martha called.

“You’re gonna get stuck in time. Or you did, cos of the statues or something. But don’t you worry, she’ll take care of you.”

“Who’s ‘she’?”

“My granddaughter. I think you’re supposed to have met her already. She tried explaining the whole thing to me, but I don’t think I have it all clear.”

“Who is she?” He repeated.

“Doctor, come on!” Martha urged once more. The Doctor knew she was right to hurry him along, but he couldn’t help the frustration at sensing there was something rather important going on here, at least for him.

The red hatching came first, though. He checked his watch. They really couldn’t delay any longer.

“Right, well, lovely meeting you. Got to dash.” He stuffed the bag and its unknown contents deep in his coat pocket, resolving to just forget it for now. Then he turned to finally follow Martha to the hatching.

The stranger called after them, “Hey, good luck, you two!”

Martha looked back over her shoulder at him as they ran. “What was that about?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No idea.”

—-

Two weeks later, the Doctor found himself stranded in an alley with Martha in 1969, and he thought he was beginning to get something of an idea.

“I mean, what are we gonna do?” His companion was quickly reaching distress, not that he could blame her being stuck some forty-odd years in her relative past.

Hold on, stuck.

“Those angels—”

“The statues,” the Doctor corrected.

“You just said they were called Weeping Angels,” said Martha.

“Yes, but the statues. He said we’d be stuck in time because of the statues. That’s now!”

“Who said?”

“The man at the newsstand. Uh, four things and a lizard?” He added, hoping to jog her memory.

Martha frowned. “I thought you didn’t have a clue what he was on about.”

“I didn’t, not then, but I do now. He was trying to tell me about my future in my past, only it wasn’t going to make any sense till the present, see?”

“No,” said Martha, rather bluntly.

“Look, the important thing is, we’re not really stuck. We can get out of this.”

She looked the closest to happy since they’d gotten zapped back to this time. “Back to the TARDIS?”

“Hopefully, because we can’t let the Angels have her.” He began to rummage in the pockets of his overcoat. It was somewhere in there, shoved away and forgotten about till now. “The man at the newsstand gave me some kind of supplies or instructions, said they were from his granddaughter.”

“And who’s that?”

“I’m not sure.” The Doctor found what he was looking for and pulled out the thick packet. “He said I might have already met her, but I suppose there’s no way of knowing.”

“Well, you could open that bag and see,” was Martha’s suggestion.

“Right!” He did so, plopping down onto the ground with his back to the wall in order to tip the contents out onto his lap.

There were a number of things. Some photos, a sort of list, a few handwritten notes.

“Is that money?” Martha grabbed at a smaller plastic bag and took out a large quantity of bills. “Oh, and they’re all from before 1969!” A relieved laugh escaped her. “We’re not gonna starve! Whoever this is, she’s good.”

“Well, he said she’d take care of me — er, us, I mean.” The Doctor supposed it could’ve easily been a general ‘you’, but there’d been something about the way the man had said it, with a sort of special twinkle in his eye. Just who were these people?

An envelope caught his eye, which he snagged only to frown in puzzlement.

“Did she write us something?” Asked Martha.

“She wrote you something at least.” The Doctor showed her the front of the envelope.

“‘Spaceman and Martha’?” She read aloud, a slight laugh on the end. “Well, that’s got to be you, doesn’t it?”

The Doctor wasn’t sure how to answer, so he tore open the envelope and took out their letter. Martha slid down the wall into a crouch to look over his shoulder.

Dear Spaceman and Martha, it officially began.

It’s weird writing you about something that’s long in the past for all of us, but that’s time travel for you. If Gramps did this right, you should’ve gotten this before the Angels sent you back to 1969. If he hasn’t, then I suppose that blows the whole ontological paradox thing.

“What’s an ontological paradox?” Martha asked him.

“It’s what we’re in right now. Everything that’s happening to us only is happening because it already happened for her and vice versa.”

There’s some things you’ve got to do on your end. The first bit’s just waiting for Billy. I’m not sure how long it’ll be in your time till the Angels get him, but you’ll need to find him. It’s all down to him on getting us to be able to communicate.

And you’ve got to promise me you’re going to get him set up nice there since you can’t bring him back with you. Make sure he’s comfy. He’s a good man, and he didn’t deserve any of this.

It was the strangest sense of deja vu he’d ever felt. He knew that speech pattern, could almost put a voice to it, but he just didn’t understand. How had he already met the person who was going to help them out of this? And how was it that he still didn’t even have her name, yet this letter read like a message from an old friend?

I packed my notes for the conversation you’re going to record. Billy puts it on the DVDs on that list, and then it’s just more waiting round for me to get to it — oh! and you’ve got to write me the message at the house. Wester Drumlins. Don’t forget or I’m gonna get clobbered by a vase or something, and then where will we be?

I should really have you two look this over before I give it to Gramps. That’d be just like me to leave out something important.

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Martha was eyeing the letter somewhat doubtfully now.

“We have to be,” was the only reply he could give her.

Assuming this goes alright, you’ll be seeing me soon. I hope you’re excited. I know I was. And if I’m going to get a bit personal here — sorry, Martha — but I just want you to know, Doctor:

Not that I mean to create some sort of ontological obligation, but the last few years have been the best second chance at getting it right I’ve ever had. I don’t say it enough. And I’m not going to say I couldn’t imagine my life without you, because I did try that, and it was awful which is sort of the point. So thank you, really. Because you’ve saved me, too.

I’ll see you both soon.

Love,

Donna

“Donna,” the Doctor echoed dumbly. “Donna?” He stood, letting the letter fall into Martha’s lap.

He only knew one Donna, and if the man was right and he’d already met this Donna — but it couldn’t be her! She’d gone off to see the world on her own, being magnificent without him.

“Who’s Donna?” Asked Martha. She was looking from him to the letter and back again. “Do you actually know her?”

“I know a Donna,” he grudgingly admitted. The Doctor plucked up one of the photographs. It was of the house at Wester Drumlins, a wall in the sitting room which someone had written on. Well, him and Martha, apparently. And there was the name DONNA NOBLE.

But she couldn’t have gotten mixed up in this. Donna didn’t want anything to do with him. He’d scared her away, not saved her. It couldn’t really be her.

“Er, Mister? There’s a postscript,” said Martha, interrupting his thoughts, and she held the letter back out to him with a nervous look.

The Doctor took it.

P.S. Martha said I’ve got to remind you to behave. I better not hear you’ve been sitting on your skinny arse while she’s been working for three months. You treat her right. Seriously, Martha, you’re too good to him.

Okay. Definitely her.

[raywritesthings]

Tweaking

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary:  Donna's quick thinking averts disaster. Prompted by @myoxisbroken *Can also be read on AO3*

Donna’s eyes slowly blinked open while her head continued to pound.

Spaceman stood against one of the coral struts, his eyes downcast and an absolutely miserable look to him. Mourning her before they even knew if she was dead. That was typical.

“Oi,” she said, voice hoarse. She swallowed and tried again. “Oi.”

The Doctor looked up.

“Did it work?”

“I’d say your asking if it worked is a good indication that it did.” He came forward. “How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts. Not because it’s exploding,” Donna was quick to clarify. “Just, you know, the Arch.”

He made a face. “Yeah, not fun. Here.” He helped her sit up a little better in the jump seat and removed the Chameleon Arch from around her head. Donna watched it raise back up into the ceiling.

She was distracted when something touched her chest, and she automatically batted it away. “Oi!”

“I need to check!” The Doctor placed the stethoscope back where it had been and listened, first to one side of her chest and then the other. “Two hearts. Two working hearts...it really worked.”

“Of course it worked. It was my idea,” she reminded him.

The Doctor had been going on before about how there was no possible way for a human-Time Lord metacrisis to exist, which had been very upsetting.

“Well if the problem’s that I’m too human, why can’t we just make me more Time Lord? Change the hardware with the software?” She’d been babbling at best, but in there had been the seed of an idea that her mind had abruptly seized upon.

“Donna—”

“Chameleon Arch!”

They hadn’t had a lot of time, and they’d had to improvise. The Arch was typically used to change Time Lords into other species, but with some tweaking on their part, they’d been able to supplement the machine with a Time Lord template courtesy of Spaceman and had given it a whirl.

Now she had two hearts, the respiratory bypass that went with it, and everything she needed to house the mind of the DoctorDonna. And she didn’t even feel that different!

“Well then, can we just agree that I am absolutely brilliant? Saved all of reality and had just enough time to avert certain death. Not bad for a day’s work.”

“No, not bad,” the Doctor agreed. The tired, haunted look finally left his eyes, and he grinned. “You’re more than brilliant, though.”

He took a knee and placed both hands on her face, kissing her deeply. She nearly forgot her headache, she was so lost in it.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed when they parted, though not far. He kept his forehead resting against hers.

She couldn’t keep herself from grinning as well, absolutely giddy to still be here and with him and now when they truly did have forever. All those years thinking she’d never amount to much — look where it had got her.

“So, Felspoon?”

He pulled her up to her feet along with him. “Felspoon.” He kissed her again, seeming to savor the opportunity. Donna’s hands rose up into his hair, and with her newly acquired bypass, it was hard to say how long they remained lip-locked.

When they pulled back, the both of them were panting, which she considered a personal victory.

“You know what? Felspoon can wait,” Donna decided.

“Another spectacular idea, Donna Noble.”

“Thought so.”

[raywritesthings]

Still Couldn’t Hide, Coda

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: Donna and the Doctor both say a little too much. Now with 100% more happy ending. AO3 link

Unknown to the Doctor, Donna had developed an interesting habit during the year they had spent apart and she had decided to look for him now that her eyes had been opened to the wider universe. And it all came down to her pesky habit of missing stuff.

Notes, copious amounts of notes. Anything she thought odd, anything that seemed important, she took down. It was how they’d ended up solving the situation on Messaline, after all. Otherwise she’d have clean missed that.

Donna knew herself well, and one thing about herself was that when she got drunk, she got drunk. The kind of drunk that let a person miss an alien invasion or two. It was something she’d been working on, and she hardly ever indulged in that sort of behavior any longer.

But just in case, whenever Donna went out for a night, she was sure to take notes before she let herself drift off to sleep and forgetfulness in the morning. So, once Spaceman was out the door that night, that was exactly what she did.

Which was why Donna woke to a piece of paper stuck to her cheek with drool that said in her much less tidy than usual scrawl, Doctor loves me, Space Vegas to-morrow.

“...what the hell?”

The TARDIS was kind enough to bring her lights up just enough to spot the space aspirin that she wasn’t sure whether the ship or Spaceman himself had supplied. Donna gulped both down and sighed in relief as the pounding in her head receded.

The missive she’d written herself, however, remained the same.

“Oh, this is gonna be so shaming,” Donna muttered to herself. What had she gone and said last night? Or perhaps more importantly, what had he said?

Donna stared hard at those first three words. She must have gotten it muddled somehow. But then what had really happened?

There was only one other soul on the TARDIS, one person who would have that answer. So Donna heaved herself out of bed, stuffed her feet into her slippers, shrugged on a robe and went in search of a Spaceman.

“Doctor? Doctor!”

“In the kitchen!”

She found him busy at the stove with a skillet, and he shot her a dazzling smile over his shoulder. Was that the sort of smile of a man in love? He looked just the same as always.

“There she is. Thought you could do with a spot to eat, get something else in your stomach.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Donna mumbled, dropping into a chair. How was she going to bring this up without making a fool of herself?

The Doctor must have read something in her unenthusiastic reply, for he frowned and asked, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen,” she paused a moment more, then continued, “we’re not heading to Space Vegas today, are we?”

The effect was comical. The Doctor nearly dropped the skillet he’d been carrying over right onto his foot, and he gaped at her for a long moment before his mouth snapped shut. “Um, no,” he squeaked. “Why- why would you think that?”

“Cos I wrote myself a reminder about it,” she confessed, taking the note out of her robe pocket and sliding it across the table. She watched his eyes scan it and go wide, his skin somehow turning even more pale. “Sorry. That was probably just a bunch of gibberish, wasn’t it? Something I made up.”

Spaceman’s hand went up to tug on his ear. Donna’s eyes narrowed.

He coughed and said, “Er, yeah, probably.”

When he looked up and met her stare, she saw him visibly deflate. The Doctor scooped bacon and eggs onto her plate, then wandered back over to the sink with the skillet. He started washing it, all without another word.

“Doctor. Hey, what’s going on?”

He shut off the water, standing with his back to her for a moment. Then he turned and walked back over, throwing himself into the chair opposite.

“Nothing. Well, not Space Vegas — you were keen to go, but I reckon you’ve thought twice about it.”

“But — then I was right, about what I wrote,” she began haltingly. “You said…”

“Yep,” he answered the sentence she wasn’t able to finish.

Donna stared at the Doctor. The Doctor stared more at her left ear than at her face, looking supremely uncomfortable about the whole thing. “What would you say that for?”

Maybe it had just been to shut her up — God, she’d probably given the whole game away, and this was a goodbye breakfast before she got dumped back at her mum’s for breaking the rules—

“Because it was...true?”

It was her turn to gape. “I’m still drunk.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, because how else would this be happening? You’d never be saying that if I was sober!”

The Doctor sighed. “No. No, I wouldn’t, and I shouldn’t have said it to you drunk. I suppose I was counting on you forgetting—”

“Because it was a lie?” Oh God, he’d been planning to give her a free pass on whatever she’d let slip, and she’d gone and ruined it by taking notes.

“No, because I didn’t want you to be upset with me,” he corrected.

“What would I be upset for?”

“For me breaking the rules,” he answered plainly. “I do love you, Donna, and I said I wouldn’t. Should’ve known from the minute you said ‘Planet of the Hats’ that was a fool’s hope. Maybe I did know. Maybe that’s why I said anything at all.” His voice grew quieter and quieter into mumbles, and his gaze landed on the table as he propped his chin on a hand. “I promised no complicated, and I went and made it complicated. Oh, blimey.”

Donna was still stuck on the words I do love you, Donna being said by the Doctor in that exact order. He was mad, madder than she’d ever thought him, if he really felt that way. It took her another minute to wrench her thoughts to the current matter at hand. “Doctor…”

“It’s alright.” He sniffed once and made to leave the table, but Donna reached out and snagged his hand.

“No, it isn’t. You thought I’d be upset?”

He looked at her finally with those big, brown eyes. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but not for — not why you’re thinking. Look, I said it, too, didn’t I? I must’ve, you wouldn’t have said it on your own,” Donna decided. A rueful quirk of his lips told her she was right. “I’m the one who wanted Space Vegas! You think I’d have said that to just anyone drunk?”

Anyone else in her life would’ve taken the opportunity that granted, but the Doctor said, “No.”

“Right, so, what do you think that means?” Donna found herself holding her breath once it was asked, not sure whether to let his hand go or not. Spaceman was looking at it, the two of them joined together.

“You...love me, too?” His eyes flicked up to hers for a moment.

“Well, d’uh,” she said, her voice a little too soft and shy to have the usual effect. Donna could feel her cheeks heating up, and the Doctor smiled as she squeezed his hand once and then let go. Donna rubbed her hands over her thighs, a nervous energy expelled at the admission. How had she even said it? How had it not meant the end of the universe?

Neither of them seemed capable of looking at each other for long. For something to do, Donna picked up her fork at last and took a bite of egg. She placed it down again almost immediately.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I mean, it just sort of got cold,” she said. “While we were talking.”

“Oh.”

“You haven’t eaten either, have you,” she realized. “You know I don’t believe all that ‘Time Lords need less food’ rubbish.”

“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “Alright.” The Doctor stood, taking her plate and scraping the food into the trash before dropping it into the sink as well. “We’ll get breakfast out.”

There was a question in there he was asking, and Donna very much wanted to answer it. But first she had to check, “Not Space Vegas, though, right?”

He grinned, giving a single shake of the head. “Right.”

“Then yeah, we’ll do that.” Donna stood up. “I mean, I know what I must have said last night, but I’m in no rush. Not making the same mistakes like with Lance.”

“Oh, but Donna, we’ve known each other for almost two years,” the Doctor pointed out as he followed her into the corridor. “That’s not so bad.”

“Oi, Time Boy, don’t push your luck.”

Maybe she owed her drunk self a favor, but she wasn’t about to start taking advice from her!

[raywritesthings]

Can’t Bear to Lose 3/?

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: The DoctorDonna supposedly thinks of things the Doctor never would. Why not a way to fix the metacrisis? AO3 link

Recently, Donna had been quiet. Lost in her head. The Doctor tried not to let it bother him.

But it did.

What if she was having second thoughts about the repair kit? Eternity was a long time, and while Wilfred and Sylvia were still a phone call or a short trip away, to an immortal like Donna, that would be over in no time at all.

She probably resented him. Maybe she’d been the one to think of the Mire, but she only had because it had been in his head. It was his fault she was this way, there was no way around that. Of course she resented him.

He decided to give her her space, heading under the console for some long-overdue maintenance. He’d only been at it for an hour that particular day, however, when Donna came to find him.

“Spaceman?”

“Yeah?”

“So I was thinking about the other repair kit.”

The Doctor climbed out from under the grating. “Did you decide who you wanted to use it on?”

“Maybe.” She chewed on her lip for a moment, and the Doctor found himself increasingly curious. He hadn’t thought they’d met anyone recently that Donna had gotten that attached to.

“How soon do you have to use it on somebody for it to work? If they’re injured or- or dead, even.”

He blinked. “Um, well, hard to say. I think there’s a bit of a grace period. Probably if I studied the mechanics a little more extensively I could give you a better answer. Why?”

“Well, I was sort of thinking — if it were possible, I mean, that we could, um, go back and- and,” she stammered, twisting her fingers around each other and not quite meeting his eyes.

“Donna, what is it?” He was starting to fear the worst, but surely Donna wasn’t about to suggest reviving a family member that had passed on. She wasn’t irresponsible that way, and she’d have to realize the repercussions on time—

“Jenny,” she suddenly blurted. “I thought we could go back to Messaline and use it on Jenny.”

His mouth fell open, but he couldn’t find his voice.

“Cos we didn’t see her funeral, right? So who’s to say she even had one? It wouldn’t be rewriting the timeline. We just go back after we left.” She took a step towards him. “Would that be okay?”

“Okay?” He echoed numbly.

“I’m not bringing it up just to make things worse.” Donna was watching him nervously, clearly thinking she’d overstepped. “I only mean, if it’s possible, that’s what I want to do.”

The Doctor had a million thoughts and questions, but he only managed a hoarse, “Why?”

“Because Gramps was right,” she said. “Nobody should have to live without their children. And I know I can’t make it all better, but if I can even do this much—”

Of course. “Donna, the chip is for you to use on someone you can’t lose. Not me.”

“You don’t think I miss her, too?” She wasn’t indignant, though she easily could have been. “My family’s both said no, there’s no one else I’m gonna meet—”

“You might—”

“I’m with you, you prawn,” she replied in the same breath. “That’s not changing now or ever. I am happy the way things are. The only person I could see fitting here in our life is Jenny.”

Now that she’d pointed it out, he was having a hard time not agreeing with her. Selfish though it probably was, the Doctor was rather accustomed to how things were with him and Donna both on their travels and the TARDIS, and an unknown interloper was bound to upset that. But Jenny would be different. Jenny with her wide-eyed, unbridled enthusiasm and her limitless capacity to learn.

Donna wasn’t done either. “And the way things happened, doesn’t she deserve another chance at life? Don’t we deserve another chance to get it right?”

His hearts were both doing funny things and he thought it’d probably be better if he were sitting down. But he was frozen where he was.

Jenny. He could have Jenny back. He could have his daughter back. They could be a family, not the same as the one he’d had before but no less important or special or beloved. And losing them would never be an option.

“Doctor.” Donna’s voice was as soft as the hands she laid on his chest. He met her eyes. “Will it work?”

“I think so,” he mumbled. “If we time it right, just after we left. Should still be enough for the chip to work with.”

“And then we have Jenny back.”

“And then we have Jenny back,” he repeated, a wondrous smile stretching over his lips at the words.

Donna was smiling back, so brilliant and beautiful, and he was overcome.

A laugh escaped in a single burst from him, and the Doctor kissed her, arms winding around her waist and pressing them together. He needed desperately to be as close to her as possible. They’d not had a chance to since their trip to Victorian London .

Somehow one or the both of them walked her back against one of the coral struts, and Donna’s hands were in his hair as his lips descended down her neck seeking more and more.

Between each kiss he gasped a, “Thank you,” into her skin.

“Well, don’t thank me yet,” she teased, a little breathless but not enough to stop her talking. “Let’s go and get her.”

He looked up, momentarily stunned by Donna’s hooded eyes until her words finally registered. “Right! Okay, just let me recalibrate the repair kit for Time Lord!” The Doctor raced off down the corridor and made it about halfway to his workroom before he stopped in his tracks.

“Looking for this?” Donna asked when he re-entered the console room at a sheepish trot. She held out the device in question.

“Yes, thanks.”

He took it, kissed her cheek, and left again, though not before catching her smirk as she shook her head at him.

Him, Donna, and Jenny, just like it was supposed to have been. The Doctor could hardly find it in himself to wait.

—-

The TARDIS had barely finished materializing when the Doctor wrenched the doors open. Donna made sure they’d actually parked before hurrying after him.

She didn’t blame him for his impatience; seeing his excitement made her all giddy, and she was eager to see this greatest of injustices finally undone.

“Hello?” Spaceman called.

They’d landed in the room where Jenny’s body had been laid out, only it was empty. A white cloth still rested on the table, but there was neither human nor Hath present, much less a Time Lord.

“Where is everyone?”

“Don’t know. Hello?” He paced to the archway that led out of the room and down into the tunnels. “What- what was the boy’s name?”

“Cline,” said Donna.

“Cline!”

It wasn’t long before the human and his Hath counterpart came running to meet them. “You’re back!”

“Yes, we are.”

“You’re in different clothes,” the boy noticed.

“Right, we changed,” Donna replied, hoping to get them back on topic.

The Hath bubbled something.

“Oi, that better not have been anything rude!”

“Cline, where is Jenny?” The Doctor asked.

“Jenny?” The boy looked at each of them. “Well, er, it’s a bit odd.”

“What do you mean?”

Donna could tell her Spaceman was on edge, but it didn’t sound as though they’d been too late. Rather that something unexpected had gone on in their absence.

“She sort of…” He started, seeming confused more than anything. Cline turned to the Hath, who bubbled again. “Well, yeah, guess I am telling her dad.”

“Cline,” said Donna. “Just try to explain what happened. Doesn’t matter how strange, we’ll believe you.”

“Well, we were preparing the ceremony, only this gold smoke sort of left her mouth and she woke up.”

“What?” They shouted together.

“It was like she’d never been shot. Just completely fine.”

“Hold on, gold smoke?” Donna turned to the Doctor. “Is that regeneration?”

“It can be a side effect of one that’s recently happened,” he told her.

“But she didn’t change?”

“Maybe her being born counted as a regeneration. Hard to say when she’s the only Time Lord like her in existence. One of a kind.” The Doctor wasn’t quite looking at any of them, seeming to need a minute to process his shock. Donna thought he sounded a tiny bit proud nonetheless.

Then he looked up. “Cline, where is she?”

“Er, well that’s the thing. She left.”

Donna’s mouth fell open.

“Left? Left for where? What’s there to leave in?” The Doctor spat each question out one after the other too fast for anyone to hope to answer. “You haven’t even got a proper atmosphere yet!”

Cline gestured vaguely behind him. “We had the settler’s rocket. She took that.”

“Oh, my God,” said Donna. “Well, if there was any doubt left she was your daughter—”

“How long ago did she leave?” The Doctor was already asking. “Do you have some sort of tracking system for the rocket?”

“We didn’t even know we had it till today,” Cline reminded them. “I’d say she left within a half hour.”

“Half an hour,” the Doctor echoed, his hands going up into his hair. He paced away from them.

“How far do you think she could get?” Donna asked.

“Depends on the make of the rocket, the speeds it could reach. But I don’t even know what all they had on board.” He spun back around towards her, and, thick as she knew it was, she really did have to worry about his hair with the way he was nearly ripping it from his head. “What if there was no navigation system? She’s got no idea what’s out there. She could be flying it straight into a asteroid belt!”

“Okay, well, let’s not panic,” said Donna, which seemed useless to her when she wanted nothing more than to panic. “We’ll just have to look. Find the nearest planets or- or asteroids or what have you and see if she’s landed there.”

“That could take ages!”

“Well, good thing I’ve got the rest of my eternal life then!” Donna stepped forward and tugged his hands down. “We’re going to find her, Doctor. No matter how long it takes.”

His harsh breathing gradually calmed as she held his gaze. Then he swallowed and nodded once.

“Where do we start?” Donna asked him.

“We’ll need a map of the surrounding planets in this system. The TARDIS should be able to provide one. Come on!”

The Doctor took her hand and raced right back into the ship. He let her take care of most of the dematerialization process while he started bringing up information on the monitor screen.

“It’s going to be important to get the timing right, too. If we land too early or too late we’ll miss her.”

“How do we know if we’ve got the timing right?”

He looked up at her. “Uh, well, we’re mostly guessing.”

Donna snorted. “Brilliant. Business as usual, then.”

There was one marked difference, though. This time, they weren’t just wandering. They had a goal, something to set their sites on.

And though she hoped it’d be short, their search for Jenny was bound to be quite the adventure.

[raywritesthings]

A Touch Out of Sync

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Summary: The Doctor finds a different method of removing Donna's memories of the metacrisis. AO3 link

The Doctor was walking out to meet the Daleks on their Crucible, and Donna didn’t know what to do.

This was it. No clever tricks, no last minute plan. She could see it in his eyes. He was convinced this was the end for them.

Donna wanted to help, even if just by standing with him to the end, but something held her back. There was a sound, she kept hearing it and no one else did. It sounded like a heartbeat, but how was that possible? She looked back at the darkened, empty TARDIS.

It was the Doctor’s voice that snapped her out of it again. “Donna! You’re no safer in there!”

He was right, of course. Whatever she thought she kept hearing she needed to focus. Donna took a step towards the door—

And blinked, suddenly finding herself in an entirely different room. There was something squishy and a little bit slimy in her hand. The something was wriggling. Donna looked down.

It looked like an ugly, overgrown maggot.

“Oh my God!”

Donna dropped it with a shriek and stumbled backward several steps. It hit the floor with a wet squelch.

“Donna! Donna, don’t panic!” said the Doctor, who was standing just in front of her and the creature.

“Don’t panic? Don’t panic?” She echoed. “What the hell is that thing?”

“It’s alright, it won’t hurt you! Just don’t touch it again.”

“Why was I touching it in the first place?” She demanded.

The Doctor didn’t answer. Instead he bent down and scooped the thing up in his own hands, which were covered by a pair of large gauntlets.

“There we go. I’m pretty sure it took. We’ll just put you away for now,” he was saying to the thing. “Good work!”

“What took?”

He turned away from her. Donna frowned, looking about for someone else to hopefully answer her. What had happened to Jack or Rose, or the Crucible for that matter? She highly doubted wherever they were was part of it!

They were in a large and high-ceilinged room, containing large glass cases every twenty feet or so. The contents of each case was different. In fact, each was designed like a habitat in a zoo — although the habitats and creatures she could see were like nothing on Earth!

“Where are we? What just happened?” She was holding the hand that the creature had been in slightly away from herself. There wasn’t any slime left on it but to her it still just seemed so dirty.

“We’re in the TARDIS.”

Donna blinked. “What? This looks nothing like it.”

“You think you’ve seen everywhere on the TARDIS?” Spaceman scoffed. “The Old Girl’s practically limitless. Even I haven’t seen it all.”

He crouched in front of one of the cases closest to her and opened a small hatch, reaching in to place the thing inside.

“What happened to the others? The Daleks? And what the hell is that thing?”

He’d set it down now, allowing Donna to get another look at the ugly, vaguely slimy sort of creature. It had fangs. She watched it wriggle on the floor of its habitat in disgust.

“It’s called a memory worm.”

“A what?”

“A memory worm.”

“Why is it called that?”

The Doctor shut the hatch and stripped off his gauntlets. He dropped them in a bin sitting to the side of the case, then turned to her and seized her by the shoulders.

“What do you remember last?”

Donna blinked under the intense stare he was fixing her with, but answered, “We were on the TARDIS. The Daleks had brought it up to the Crucible and they wanted us to come out. I was just leaving — and then I was here.”

“That’s it? That’s all you remember?” He checked.

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“How’s your head?” He asked instead.

“You mean apart from bloody confused?”

“No, but — it’s not hurting?”

“No. Why would it be?”

For some reason her answer caused the Doctor to smile, the soft, warm kind that seemed to lift the heavy burdens of his past away for a moment. He pulled her into a hug, which Donna didn’t exactly object to, even if she didn’t understand why he was doing it or why he was holding her so tightly.

“No reason,” he murmured into her hair. “No reason at all.”

Was he crying?

“Doctor, what is going on?” She demanded again. “What are we doing in here? And how’d we get here?”

“We walked.”

“Oi, don’t get cheeky,” she snapped, pulling out of his arms. That at least got him grinning. “I don’t even remember getting here so when the hell did that happen?”

“Donna…” the Doctor scrubbed a hand over his cheek, seeming very reluctant to continue. “Maybe you should sit down.”

She tensed. “Why? What happened? Where are the others? Are Jack and Rose okay?”

“They’re fine,” he quickly assured, already leading her away from the case with its slimy overgrown maggot. He’d taken her left hand in his and placed his other hand at the small of her back to guide her over to a bench set back against the wall. Donna was too confused to complain about him getting touchy.

“But where are they?”

“Back home. Everyone’s back home, even the Earth. All the other planets, too.”

“What, seriously?”

The Doctor nodded.

“But they can’t have. That doesn’t make any sense. I — how did I miss this one?” Donna was at a total loss.

“You didn’t.” Now his expression was solemn even as he tried to keep smiling for her. “You were right there for all of it, Donna, and I wish more than anything you could remember how brilliant you were. You saved us all.” He spoke so earnestly, practically beaming at her as he held her hands despite what he said making absolutely no sense at all. Even if she had managed to do something to get them out of that mess, how could she not know about it? “But you’ve had about the last hour of your memories erased.”

Donna gaped. “How?”

“The memory worm. An invertebrate with a very unique survival mechanism,” he rattled off, in lecture mode apparently. “The substance it produces to cover its body causes whoever it comes into contact with to forget a portion of their most immediate memories. Just removes them completely.”

“And I touched it.”

“Yep,” he confirmed unnecessarily.

“Oh my God. Why did I do that? Why would I ever do that?”

“Well, you weren’t too keen,” he admitted, and Donna yanked her hands out of his grasp.

“You. You had me touch it?”

“On the bright side, touching it was enough. I was really hoping we could avoid the fangs,” he told her.

She glared at him. “You erased my memory.”

The Doctor sobered. “Donna, I had to. You can’t ever remember what happened for the last hour. It would kill you.”

What? “I don’t understand,” she stammered.

“I know. I’m sorry. So sorry, Donna.” He looked nearly about to cry again to her alarm. “It was all my fault.”

“Spaceman.” Donna reached out for one of his hands again, waiting for him to meet her eyes. “Just tell me what happened.”

“You saved us,” he repeated. “Stopped the Reality Bomb, stopped the Daleks. Put the planets back. There’d be nothing left out there, nothing in all of creation, if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Are you sure you didn’t lose your memory?” She nearly laughed. He wasn’t making any sense! “How’d I manage that?”

“A biological human-Time Lord metacrisis,” he rattled off, like those words in that order were supposed to mean anything. “You got trapped in the TARDIS. None of us knew why or how, but I suppose it just had to happen. Everything since the day we first met had been leading up to it, the timelines converging on each other.”

“What do you mean?” Rose had said something like that, just a few minutes — or an hour, she supposed — ago. “You’re talking, like, destiny.”

“I’m talking exactly like destiny,” said the Doctor. “I’m serious, Donna,” he insisted when she scoffed. “The universe needed you there right in that very moment, so it made it happen. When you were in the TARDIS, you said you could hear a heartbeat coming from my hand, the one that I siphoned the excess regeneration energy off into. So you touched it and it created the metacrisis. Half-human, half-Time Lord.”

It sounded ridiculous, but she had heard that heartbeat. It was one of the last things she could remember before being in this room with Spaceman.

“So what did that do?”

“Well, a lot of stuff, but the important thing was that it gave you access to my memories.” Her eyes widened. She’d had the Doctor’s mind in her head? “You used what you saw there to shut down the Reality Bomb, disable the Daleks, and free the rest of us. Plus putting all the planets back. You — Donna?”

She didn’t answer him. She was looking out across the room, struggling to remember anything remotely like what he said. But it just wasn’t there.

“Donna, are you okay?” It was only the urgency in his tone that caused her to turn back to him.

“Yeah, I suppose. Why did I forget?” She frowned, remembering the worm again. “Why’d you use that thing?”

“The knowledge you received from the metacrisis was too much for your mind to hold onto,” he told her. “It was killing you all the while you were using it to save everyone.”

“I was gonna die?”

“Yes.” She’d never seen him look so grave. “The memory worm was the only way to remove the metacrisis while leaving the majority of your memories intact. You’re still you, still here, still safe. Just lost an hour.” He seemed relieved, even pleased with himself.

“The most important hour of my life, apparently,” she said bitterly, looking away again.

“Donna?” He sounded so lost and confused. She glanced back at him.

“It’s just, I did all that...and I can’t even remember it for myself?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No. But I promise you, Donna, no one else will ever forget it. There are worlds out there, safe in the sky because of you. People living in the light and singing songs of Donna Noble, a thousand million light years away.”

It all sounded so unbelievable. People across the universe knowing her name? She was nobody.

“That’s not really the same though, is it?” She asked glumly. “It’s just a story.”

“Everything becomes a story eventually,” he consoled her. “And yours is the best.”

“But it’s not really about me. I mean, anyone could have touched that hand and made a metacrisis or whatever, couldn’t they?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not just anyone. It needed you, Donna. Your mind, your human ingenuity, your brilliance. I would’ve never thought of half the things you did, not in nine-hundred years.”

“Sure.” She shook her head.

“You don’t believe me.” He was pouting.

“Well, I’ve only got your word to go on! Forgive me for being a little skeptical,” she remarked.

He perked up. “Oh, well, if that’s the problem that’s easily solved! Loads of witnesses. Martha, Sarah Jane, Jack, Mickey — they’ll tell you!” The Doctor leapt up from the couch and pulled her onto her feet with both hands.

“What, right now?” She asked with a laugh. “Who even is Mickey?”

He paused. “Oh, right. You met.”

“Oh. There’s really no way of me getting those memories back?” She couldn’t help checking once more.

“No.” He did at least look appropriately regretful now. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Suppose it’s better than dying.” She tried to make her tone sound lighter than she felt, but the Doctor didn’t seem to buy it.

“Did you want to wait a bit before seeing the others?”

She felt herself smile a little at his consideration. “Yeah. Actually, can we check on my family?”

He smiled back. “Whatever you ask.”

The Doctor led her by the hand out into the TARDIS corridor. Donna was glad to leave the room and the memory worm behind. She didn’t like the idea of it being on board much at all, even if it had saved her life apparently. But she couldn’t help the resentment she felt towards what it had taken from her. A whole hour of her life she’d never get back, where so many amazing things had happened, where she’d finally meant something to the universe. Maybe she could believe Spaceman whenever he called her brilliant if she could still be like she was with the metacrisis.

Donna Noble, always missing stuff. At least she had someone to catch her up on everything this time.

[raywritesthings]

The Scarcity Plot, Coda

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: Donna takes care of the Doctor after the injury he received on their latest adventure. AO3 link

Donna shut the door on the two sisters, then turned around to find the Doctor struggling to his feet. “Oi! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Vortex,” he groaned, hands reaching out to catch himself on the console.

Donna marched up to him and took hold of his shoulders. “I can do that. At least, I think I can.” It was one of the first things he’d taught her, and she nearly had the sequence memorized now.

“The…green switch,” he prompted.

Donna started there and then worked her way through, perhaps less fluidly than he would’ve, but the TARDIS took off nonetheless so she counted it a success.

“Okay, now you are getting in a bed.” He accepted her support easily, which scared her more than anything else. The wound had stopped bleeding as freely, but he was so weak. What could she do to help him? A thought occurred to her and she stopped them just at the mouth of the corridor to the med bay. “You sure I shouldn’t be taking you to Martha?”

The Doctor took another step, forcing her to keep going so he wouldn’t pitch himself forward onto the floor. “Just need rest, Donna.”

“You’re sure? You’re talking like this sort of thing has happened before.”

He was silent.

Donna looked at him. “You’re kidding. Were you ever gonna mention that? ‘I get shot every now and then, Donna, not to worry’?”

“It was a long time ago,” he finally managed. “Don’t normally plan to…step in front of a bullet.”

Well you did today, Donna nearly bit out, but stopped herself. Of course he had, after everything with Jenny. It was no surprise Larne had reminded them both of the bright and determined girl they’d lost. His loss more than hers, of course, she had been his daughter. Even so, Donna couldn’t help the attachment and sense of responsibility she’d felt and still did feel for Jenny, and she privately wondered if it was at all what motherhood was like. She wouldn’t dare presume to ask Spaceman that, though. Maybe Gramps would have an answer for her the next time she dropped in. It’d have to wait awhile, though, since she didn’t want to make one of the Doctor’s hearts go into arrest over some misunderstanding about her leaving again. How did he ever get on without her?

The med bay doors slid open for them, and Donna helped him to the nearest bed. “Here, your coat.” She helped him shrug out of first that then his suit jacket, and Donna also took the liberty of undoing his tie. No point in him strangling himself to death in his sleep by accident. Slowly, she got him sitting on the side of the bed so she could unlace and remove his trainers, and finally she was able to get him settled under the sheets. She’d need to grab more blankets; his skin practically felt like ice.

Donna retrieved a washcloth first, then pulled up a chair to his bedside and began gently wiping away the dried blood running down from his temple. He’d need a shower, too, once he’d got better; it was in his hair. He’d hate that, she thought with a smile as she did her best to clean that off in the meantime. “So, what all happens? Since you’ve done this before.”

“Mostly, I’ll just sleep. I might turn a bit cold.”

“You’re already freezing,” she said, placing a hand to his forehead in demonstration. His lips twitched upward in a brief smile.

“Hm. Could have some delirium as well. Nothing serious. S’all rather boring, really. Might want to occupy yourself in the library or something,” he suggested, eyes closed.

“No chance, Spaceman. I’m staying right here,” she informed him with a soft smile. As if she’d just go off and ignore him while he was recovering. What sort of best mate did he take her for?

He gave another hum in response, and Donna patted one of his hands, then stood and strode to the supply cupboard. There was a whole stack of blankets neatly folded on one of the shelves. She decided three would be enough to start off with.

“Oh, an’ my heartbeat an’ breathing might not register,” the Doctor mumbled.

Donna whirled back around. “What?”

The Doctor did not answer. Donna dropped the blankets, ran back over, felt for his wrist and could find no pulse. His chest wasn’t moving with any sign of breath either. He was paler than she’d ever seen him, making the freckles scattered across his cheeks stand out in the harsh fluorescent lighting.

He looked like a corpse.

“Oh my God,” Donna breathed. Why had she listened to him? She should have gone straight to Martha! “Doctor.” She reached out and touched a cold shoulder, heart in her throat. “Doctor!”

The Doctor’s eyes snapped wide open with a great gasp of breath, though they were missing that usual spark to them, and Donna had to catch him when he half-lurched out of the bed to stop him from tipping over. “Blimey! Whazzit, Daleks?”

“You weren’t breathing! And- and your hearts!”

He stared at her, uncomprehending. “Well didn’t I say? Healing coma, Donna.”

“You looked dead!” She snapped.

His face fell. “Oh. M’sorry.” One of his arms rose but didn’t quite make it to her face, instead dropping to rest on her knee, and it was then Donna realized she was crying.

She looked away, wiping at the tears with the back of her hand. “No it’s…you just scared me.”

“Bottom of the cupboard. There should be…a machine.” The Doctor flopped back against the pillows, his brief activity from her startling him awake clearly costing him. “S’more sensitive than Earth equipment. You can hook me up to that if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah, alright,” Donna agreed softly. “Just rest.” She watched his eyes slip shut again, then retrieved the dropped blankets and the machine. It occurred to her, as she looked it and the multitude of electrodes over, that she hadn’t the faintest idea how it worked. Her first instinct was to go back for the phone and get Martha on the line—God, Martha would be so much better for this, he was probably missing her more than anything right now—but even Donna was pretty sure normal EKGs didn’t have this many electrodes. Twice as many for two hearts? Would even Martha know where they all went?

A drawer on the side of the room popped open, and Donna set the machine aside for a moment to investigate. Sitting in the drawer was a thick-looking manual, which when Donna began flipping through it contained a series of diagrams depicting various medical equipment and how to operate them. A guide for companions, she supposed. Well that was a relief.

She came across the machine she’d taken from the cupboard and took the manual with her back to her seat. Maybe she wasn’t that good at this sort of thing, but she could do her best to figure it out. Donna glanced up at the Doctor briefly for her own piece of mind—then did a double take. Was that actual ice forming on his skin?

“What—how—Martian!” Donna bit out, though careful not to raise her voice and risk waking him too soon again.

He’d said he’d turn cold. Apparently he’d meant he was going to turn into a bloody Popsicle. She felt wholly unprepared and unequipped to deal with any of this, but then, wouldn’t anyone? He was the only one of his kind left in the universe. No one else could truly know what was best for him in illness or injury. If he was ever hurt, like now, he was his own best doctor.

No wonder he’d tried to send her away. Here she was, just about to throw the towel in because she couldn’t deal with a bit of alienness. Well alien was what she’d signed up for, and alien was what she was sticking with.

Donna squared her shoulders, then gave the manual another once-over. She could do this.

She’d need his shirt off, was the first thing Donna realized. After an internal struggle, she decided she’d much rather know for certain his hearts were beating than preserve his modesty. Donna quickly undid the buttons—and underneath that was a t-shirt of course. God, how many layers was he wearing? She perched on her knees on the side of the bed and pulled him up into an approximation of sitting, then got to work tugging the clothes off his currently boneless body.

As she worked them over his head, he slumped forward, narrowly avoiding landing face-first into her chest. Donna felt her face heat up at the thought and thanked every higher power she knew of, alien or otherwise, that he was completely out of it. She blew her bangs out of her eyes in a huff, then eased the Doctor off her shoulder and onto his back again.

Well, at least the hard part was over with. She consulted the manual once more, the instructions having slipped her mind do to her rather flustered state, then got to work placing the electrodes in the appropriate positions. Her stomach flipped around a bit every time her hands brushed his bare skin. This really wasn’t what they were—but he’d told her about the machine, which meant he ought to have known what it would entail. There wasn’t anything weird about her touching him half-naked if it was to help him through a crisis. Just like the detox kiss. Nothing more to it.

All the same, Donna felt herself relax as soon as she finished. She doubted she’d get hired on at any hospitals any time soon, but when she turned the machine on it seemed to be in working order. His hearts were beating, just at an incredibly slow rate. Hearing it did make her feel better all the same.

Donna fussed around with the blankets a bit. There wasn’t really a way to cover him up completely with the electrodes in the way, but she could make sure he was as warm as he could be, all things considered.

Eventually she retook her seat, observing her handiwork critically. It was unsettling, seeing him so still. The ice wasn’t helping matters. He’d said it was a healing coma which meant he’d likely be unconscious for a while, but Donna wished more than anything he’d wake up. She missed him.

It was more important he do whatever he needed to get better, of course. Donna couldn’t help but wonder how else she might help. He wasn’t human, but she couldn’t see why some of the normal creature comforts wouldn’t go amiss once he’d woken back up. He’d have to be hungry, wouldn’t he? She would be. Truthfully, she was hungry now.

Donna half-stood—but paused as a thought occurred to her. What if something happened while she was gone? She’d promised she’d be here.

Donna looked about the room, but there didn’t seem to be anything there that could help her. “Listen, if something’s wrong, just—just let me know.”

She felt a bit silly, but then the TARDIS hummed, and she took that to mean the ship understood.

“Thanks.”

She walked to the nearest kitchen and rummaged in the cabinets for supplies. There was enough for a decent soup, she reckoned. Probably the first proper meal he would have in days. She really needed to work on him a bit more in that regard. He barely took care of himself on a normal day, and a brush like this had her more worried than ever.

Donna occupied herself with cooking, feeling some of the tension that had built up in her ever since the gunshot leech out of her slowly as she concentrated on one of her mum’s recipes. It had always been her favorite when she was home sick, and she didn’t see why it wouldn’t do in this case.

She fixed herself a small bowl to eat. It’d be no good if she was running on an empty stomach through this whole thing, and anyway it’d be a good idea to check if her attempt had been any good. Her mum made it better, but Donna didn’t imagine Spaceman could be all that picky; he lived off bananas, what did he know?

She was just finishing transferring the rest of the soup to a crock pot so it could sit till he woke when a terrified cry echoed through the TARDIS and made her blood run cold.

“Donna! Donna!”

She placed the lid on the crock pot and raced back down the corridor.

“Doctor!”

He was thrashing in the bed, eyes still closed. Two of the blankets had been knocked off him onto the floor. Electrodes were popping off his chest and causing the machine to go wild with beeping. Donna hurried to switch it off, then sat on the bed.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she said, grabbing for his hands and pulling them back down. She leaned over him, a hand on his cheek. The ice was entirely gone to her relief, and he seemed just the slightest bit warmer than when he’d passed out. “I’m right here, Spaceman.”

“Donna,” the Doctor whimpered, limbs stilling.

“You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re back on the TARDIS, we’re home.” That last bit had sort of slipped out by accident. She’d never called the TARDIS home before. But it was, wasn’t it? She lived here with the Doctor and planned to the rest of her life. She couldn’t imagine anywhere else as home, not even her mother’s house as much as she loved her and Gramps.

“Donna,” the Doctor said again, less urgently than the other times.

“Is that the only word you remember, now?” She couldn’t help teasing with a laugh, withdrawing her hand. “Wouldn’t that be a change?”

The Doctor’s face turned towards her and she wondered if perhaps he was waking at last. Rather than speak or open his eyes, he simply bent practically in half, head tucked to brush against her thigh. Then he stilled again. He’d been…looking for her? She reached out, tentatively, and smoothed a hand over the back of his head and neck. This couldn’t be an accident. For one thing, it didn’t look remotely comfortable.

Donna lifted him briefly so she could shift around and lean her back against the pillows, and also so he was no longer trying to twist himself into a pretzel to be near her. His head ended up half in her lap now, and then he nuzzled closer. Oh, she was not letting him live this down. Not ever. That was if she didn’t die of embarrassment first. This was way beyond just-mates territory.

She shouldn’t mind it, really. Here, alone on the TARDIS, and him seeking her out for comfort in his sleep. What was the point of getting bothered? She always got so bothered by this sort of thing when they were traveling. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to turn to her; he was her best friend. Her best friend who made her laugh—and cry—more than anyone she’d ever met, who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and who everyone thought she was seeing if not married to soon as they looked at the two of them.

“Oh, you dunce,” she muttered to herself. How’d she gone and done the one thing they’d agreed not to do right at the start? She’d considered herself above fancying him like Martha had and somehow plunged straight into falling for him instead. Of course it nearly took him dying on her for her to realize.

“You’re never doing something like this to me again,” she decided, not really leaving any room for the unconscious Doctor to respond. What if he’d been awake for this and seen how unintentionally obvious she was being? Then she’d really be in trouble.

What was she going to do? If he found out, well, that’d be the end of the line, wouldn’t it? Donna felt a lump rise in her throat at just the thought. He couldn’t find out. She’d just have to be careful was all. Make certain anyone they met on their travels was told emphatically they were not a couple, never would be. Look after him, but not too closely.

Donna glanced down at the Doctor, his head resting in her lap. She supposed she could have one exception. Anyway, he had started it. That was her defense, and she was sticking to it. The fact that she’d been absentmindedly running a hand through his hair as her whole brain had gone into overdrive to process all this didn’t need to be brought up at all.

She was really, really in trouble.

“Daft Martian,” she said. Then she yawned. Dealing with near death experiences and life shattering realizations was tiring work. She really ought to move back to the chair.

And that was the last thing Donna remembered.

---

It took some time for the Doctor to come round properly. Healing comas always left a Time Lord a little disoriented at first, but he felt less groggy and more…hazy, like he was slowly being pulled from a very pleasant dream. It wasn’t very usual for him at all; the last time he’d been incapacitated like this, he’d woken up alone and afraid—and also nearly suffocated, though that bit hadn’t been Jo’s fault.

He’d lost his shirt, both shirts actually, at some point. He didn’t recall when that had happened. Donna had helped him to bed, then she’d gotten a bit panicky as he started to fall into the coma—admittedly, he could have explained himself better, but he’d been so tired—and then there was nothing, really.

The Doctor was warm, despite his lack of layers. His pillow was warm. Warmer than it had any right to be, anyway, being a pillow. It was radiating heat.

His pillow was alive.

The Doctor’s eyes snapped open, allowing him to confirm that, yes, that was a thigh his cheek was resting on. A thigh that went up and up out of his field of vision, though he thought he could follow the trajectory enough to state with some confidence that it and the rest of the person it was a part of was curled around him. He turned his head, dislodging a hand that had been tangled in his hair.

Donna. Donna was curled around him. He hoped his respiratory bypass would be able to take the strain so soon after a healing coma or he was about to have the most inglorious regeneration in history.

She was sleeping, clearly. Still wearing her clothes from their botched attempt at Rome. He wondered how long he’d been out, how long she must have sat up with him before exhaustion caught up with her. She looked peaceful, now. Beautiful, always.

Some of her hair had fallen in her face. On impulse, he reached up and tucked it behind her ear. Donna sighed in her sleep and scooched in a little closer. He gulped.

Oh, this was bad. She was going to be furious with him.

Quietly, the Doctor ventured, “Donna?”

There was some activity beneath her eyelids, but she didn’t stir much more than that.

A little louder, it seemed. “Donna?”

“Huh?” Her brow creased, and even that looked adorable so that he had to bite down a grin, then she was blinking in bleary confusion. “What?”

“Er, morning,” he greeted as casually as he could make it. Her gaze focused, then zeroed in on him.

“Oh. My. God.” She breathed, eyes widening, no doubt in horror.

“Donna,” he began, slow and careful, “I don’t exactly remember everything that happened so, er, this—” He glanced pointedly at the scant space between them.

Donna sat up, so he did as well. She had shoved herself about as far back against the wall as possible.

“I—I wasn’t—you were thrashing about, so I was just sitting here to calm you down. That’s all!” She defended in a rush.

“Right!” He agreed quickly.

“Must have just dropped off after! You’re hard work!” Donna accused, face turning redder than he could ever remember.

“Absolutely!” He conceded. “I’m sure I was totally not being myself in anything I might have said or done.” It was really important she believed that bit.

“Course!” They sat there, staring at each other, neither of them seeming to know what the next move to make was. Then Donna blurted, “Soup!”

The Doctor blinked. “What?”

“I made soup, thought you could eat something when you’d woken up. It’s in a crock pot. I’ll go get it!” She scrambled to her feet and out the door, though before it could slide shut she poked her head back in. “Thank God you’re not dead!” Then promptly fled again.

He stared at the closed door for a moment after she’d gone, baffled. He’d been expecting her to be angry, maybe even a slap—though truthfully, he couldn’t recall the last time she’d given him one of those. Instead, she’d panicked, like she’d thought he would be upset.

Oh, if she only knew waking up to Donna Noble was the last thing that could possibly upset him. The Doctor leaned back against the pillows, Donna’s warmth already receding from them. He looked over the side and spotted his t-shirt on the floor, so he grabbed that and slipped it back on. For his comfort as much as Donna’s.

Although, she would have had to have been the one to remove it, so it followed she couldn’t be that uncomfortable seeing his bare chest much less sharing a bed with it. And hang on, how had his head ended up in her lap?

No. No, it wasn’t possible. He did not get that lucky ever. Donna wasn’t, Donna couldn’t be—

Yet if he concentrated hard enough, he could still remember the feel of her fingers in his hair.

A smile, small yet daring, rose to the Doctor’s lips.

“Getting shot at. Must do that more often.”

[raywritesthings]

The Scarcity Plot

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Tenth Doctor, Donna Noble, OFCs, OMCs Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: She did not understand this loud and strange looking pair, where they had come from or what they should want to help her for. She had an equally strange feeling that would not change. Or, just another day in the lives of the Doctor and Donna Noble AO3 link

Larne of the Red Forests blew out a breath, her head resting against the stone wall at her back. Of course it had been a vain hope her mission to the Capitol would’ve ended anywhere but here, but she’d needed to inform their infiltrators of the next stage. It was fortunate she had been captured after leaving their company. As long as the Interrogators did not attempt to break her for information on Aerka or the others, she would not have completely failed her cause. If she was lucky, they would simply hold her here till she died.

She was unable to tell the passage of time in her cell, but she had slept and been brought food both before and after. The food was good, and her stomach churned at the thought that she ate better as a prisoner than when she was free. The famine and subsequent food shortage truly had been a lie. Other than that, she had no break in the monotony or silence.

Very suddenly, that changed.

“Oi! Watch those hands!” A woman’s voice snapped from down the corridor just as the door opened. She did not sound very much like one of the guards.

“Listen, you don’t need to do this,” said a second voice, this time male. “I told you, we’re just travelers. Just touring the universe!”

“More like touring the dungeons of the universe,” the same woman scoffed.

“Donna, not now.”

They were coming closer. A man and woman both of very pale skin being led back-to-back by a pair of guards, right to her cell. The key was turned in the lock and the couple were unceremoniously shoved in. The woman nearly fell and it was only her being chained at the wrists to her companion that stopped her.

“What’s your name? You can bet I’m gonna report you!” She barked at the guard that had done the shoving. He turned away, completely impassive. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

“It’s no use,” Larne stated. “They won’t listen.”

The man was facing her and so his eyes landed on her first. He shuffled around slightly to give the woman a view of her as well. “Oh, hello! You must be our cellmate.”

“Yes,” she answered, regarding them suspiciously. “I appear to be.” Was this some sort of game of the Interrogators?

“So, what you in for?”

The man twisted round as best he could to regard the one called Donna incredulously. “What are you using prison slang for?”

She shrugged as best she could with arms restrained. “When in Rome!”

“We’re not in Rome.”

“And whose fault is that? ‘Oh, don’t worry Donna, I’ll get it right this time’—”

“The TARDIS landed us here! For what reason I’m not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ve been detained on suspicion of conspiring against the Capitol,” Larne interjected when it seemed they intended to carry on like that even further.

His eyes lit up in the dim light given off by a torch some ways down the corridor. “Oh, a resistance! Love a resistance!”

“Shh!” Larne hissed, and the man’s mouth snapped shut.

“Sorry about him,” the woman named Donna said, leaning her head back on the man’s shoulder to whom she was still shackled in indication. “He’s a bit excitable.”

Larne was of the opinion that both seemed incredibly excitable, but she judged it wise not to say.

“Donna, I need you to try and reach around—”

“You what?”

“My pocket, Donna. They didn’t take the sonic, but I can’t reach it with my hands like this—actually, maybe—” He looked to her again very sharply. “What’s your name?”

“Larne. Of the Red Forests.”

“Larne, nice to meet you. I’m the Doctor. This is Donna,” he said with another head tilt. “If you wouldn’t mind trying to reach a little silver instrument in my pocket—sort of like a pen—I can get us out of here.”

If this were some sort of setup, it was too ridiculously obvious. She stood slowly from the narrow wooden bench that had been her perch.

He gave her an encouraging grin. Larne stepped forward, then finally reached into his pocket, though her eyes carefully studied his face all the while for any hint of deception.

Except his pocket did not end. Larne withdrew suddenly. “What sort of trick is this? Your clothes!”

“You might have warned her,” the one named Donna said.

“Right, sorry.”

“Listen, Larne,” the woman looked at her with eyes kind and sincere, willing her to pay attention, “I know we seem a bit weird to you and alien. I mean he is alien, like an actual alien.”

“You are, too, Donna, this isn’t your planet,” the man pointed out.

“Oi, in the middle of something, Spaceman,” she retorted just as quickly. “Anyway, you just got to trust us. We’re not from here, but we know what we’re doing. He does, at least.”

“We want to help you,” the one called Doctor picked up right where his companion had left off. “But you’ve got to help us first. Okay?”

She did not understand this loud and strange looking pair, where they had come from or what they should want to help her for. She had an equally strange feeling that would not change.

Slowly, she nodded and stepped forward again. This time she expected it when her arm sunk in nearly to the elbow with no resistance, and she dug around in the pocket a few moments before her fingers brushed something matching the description he’d given. “There is a thin cylinder.”

“That’s it, that’s it! Oh, nicely done!” He enthused.

Larne passed it to him and watched with some interest as he maneuvered the instrument so that the tip was pointed at their restraints. Then he pressed a button, and a high-pitched whirring echoed all around the cell as the instrument lit up blue on the end.

The chains fell to the floor with a clatter, and both Doctor and Donna momentarily sagged into each other with relief before jumping apart.

“Oh thank God, my arms were going numb.” The woman shook out the aforementioned limbs as she spoke.

“Yeah, not the most comfortable position we’ve ever been in,” the man agreed. He barely spared the time to stretch his own arms, instead checking the red marks around his companion’s wrists. “This might start to bruise, but there’ll be something in the TARDIS for that. You’ll be right as rain in no time.” His smile was just as bright as before, yet there was something less manic but rather softer in his eyes as he gazed at the woman.

Larne tried not to twitch impatiently and moved to wait by the door.

“Can’t wait,” the one called Donna was saying, then turned towards Larne. “So, ready to get the hell out of here?”

“I am not certain,” she answered truthfully. “The most I can hope for is to hide in the sewers until they hunt me down again. The boat that would have taken me home has already departed, if the Capitol did not capture it.”

The one named Donna appeared rather disturbed at her bleak assessment of her situation, but the one called Doctor hardly seemed concerned. “Well, good thing we’ve got a ship of our own. We’ll give you a lift.” He went around her to the door, then used the same silver instrument to somehow disengage the lock. The one named Donna and then Larne followed him close behind into the corridor. As he led them to the door at the end, she took the torch out of its sconce in the wall. Fire was a fine weapon, and certainly better than none.

The woman kept looking at her. Sad, pondering glances.

“What?”

“You really are a resistance fighter. How old are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” the one named Donna argued. “You’re so young.”

"They always are," her companion muttered darkly.

“The resistance is all I’ve ever known. There would be no point to my life without it,” Larne stated plainly. “Otherwise, I might as well join the ranks of those sitting silent and afraid in the Capitol, or the guards that preside over them fat and content. If it takes until I am very old, if it takes until long after I am dead, I will continue to fight.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The one called Doctor had stopped at the door and the weight of his stare was suddenly dark and heavy, and cutting like steel. “The Capitol and their rulers' excess ends today. You’ve been taught to fight?”

Larne nodded eagerly. The one called Doctor reached a hand out for the torch and she handed it over.

“Now be ready to run.”

He suddenly flung the door open, then pitched the torch at the threadbare rug in the middle of the chamber beyond. The guards, who had been sitting with food and drink at a table on the other side of the room, leapt up with cries of alarm as the flame caught.

“Allons-y!” The one called Doctor shouted, taking off down a side corridor with the one named Donna hot on his heels. Their hands had somehow already found each other’s, and the woman reached back just in time to grab Larne’s and tug her along. She was too stunned to protest.

The one called Donna wasn’t. “Did you just commit arson?”

“Only on a minor scale! They’ll have those flames out in no time, and then we’ll really be in trouble. Oh! There’s a window. Come on, Larne, up you get! You’re smallest.” He used the same device as before and then was pushing the window out while the one called Donna urged her forward. The two of them moved practically in synchrony to lift her up towards the daylight. Larne grabbed onto the windowsill with both hands and wriggled out onto a dirt path running around the prison.

“Oi!” The one named Donna was halfway through the window now, red hair falling in her face as she looked back over her shoulder. “Hands!”

“They’ve got to go somewhere, Donna!”

Larne stepped forward, grabbing the woman’s upper arms and helping pull her out.

“Thanks,” she wheezed at her, gaining her feet only to turn back towards the window. “He won’t be so hard. Hardly ways a thing, he’s so skinny.”

“I can hear you, you know that?” The one called Doctor was already attempting to get purchase on the windowsill.

“Duh!”

They both reached for an arm, Larne with slightly more urgency as she could pick up the sounds of the guards approaching. As soon as he had clambered out with their help, the Doctor shut the window and used the silver device on it again.

“TARDIS?” The one named Donna said. They had infrequently been using that word, which Larne did not understand. Perhaps there was no translation from their alien language, wherever they were from.

“TARDIS,” the one called Doctor agreed, and then Larne’s hand was in someone else’s again as they ran, people staring after them as they cut through the midday market.

They slowed upon reaching a narrow alley that contained a few rotting crates and strangest box Larne had ever seen. It was large, very blue, with a light on the top and words printed on it that hardly made any sense. Police?

The couple were headed straight for it, and the one called Doctor withdrew a key from his strange pockets. “Larne, remember what Donna said about us being weird and alien?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Good.” He opened one of the doors and motioned her inside.

What Larne found beyond the doors, however, was impossible. “I do not understand.”

“It’s his ship,” the one named Donna explained gently, guiding her further up the ramp she stood on to allow all of them in. The door shut, and she could no longer hear the sounds of the market. “We use it to travel across all of time and space.”

“Travel time?”

“Yeah, it’s brilliant.”

“And it’s what we’re going to use to get you back to your resistance,” the Doctor of the Blue Box stated. He placed himself right in front of the strange central column, the base of which was covered in all sorts of buttons and dials and levers. She could not begin to make sense of it. “The Red Forests, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Right then, on we go!” The man flipped a lever and the whole place shook and groaned. Larne reached for a railing in alarm.

“It’s okay, it’s just what it does!” Donna of the Blue Box tried to assure her, but Larne remained rigid and tense the entire time the room shuddered. The other two were somehow able to keep their feet as they ran rings around the central column, pressing at buttons and other controls.

“No, no, no, Donna, the horizontal hold!”

“I thought this was it!”

“No! The one next to it!”

“That's not what you said last time!”

They were the strangest couple she had ever met. All this shouting and bickering, and yet they worked together seamlessly and only seemed to want to be near the other.

There was a final thud and the place thankfully stopped moving or making any other distressed sounds. The Doctor of the Blue Box raced past her down the ramp and to the doors. “The Red Forests!”

“How? We have not left this place,” Larne pointed out.

“Oh, just you watch,” Donna of the Blue Box told her with a smile, hurrying after the man. At a loss, Larne followed down the ramp, yet when she reached the doors a completely different yet wholly familiar sight met her eyes.

She was home.

“Now, listen, there’s been a bit of a mixup. We’re not invaders,” the Doctor of the Blue Box was explaining to the spear pointed at his face.

Larne cried out in delight. “Aerka!” Her sister lowered the spear in shock as Larne ran at her for an embrace.

“Larne? But how? You were said to have been captured!”

“It was them,” she explained hurriedly, gesturing to the traveling couple still being watched cautiously by a number of the others. “These people were placed in my cell and helped me to escape. They brought me safe passage from the Capitol in this box!” Even if she could not understand how.

The five scouts Aerka had with her also lowered their weapons as her sister stepped forward. “My apologies. I am Aerka of the Red Forests. Please, accept my thanks for returning my sister to me.”

“Of course,” Donna of the Blue Box said with a warm smile.

“Stay as long as you wish. You and your husband are welcome friends to our cause.”

“Oh, we’re not married—” the Doctor of the Blue Box began.

“He’s so not my husband,” Donna of the Blue Box spoke at the same time. “We’re not together.”

Aerka looked back at her in confusion, to which Larne shrugged. She was surprised at this news as well, having spent so much time in their company observing them.

“But, speaking of your cause—namely overthrowing the Capitol, am I correct?” The man asked. “Because I’ve got a few ideas about that.”

Aerka took him aside to hear his council, leaving Larne and Donna of the Blue Box to recount their escape to the others. Rations were passed around, which their guest politely declined as they told the story.

“What sort of tool can unlock chains or a door just by pointing at it?” Porin questioned.

“He calls it a sonic screwdriver,” the woman explained. “Sonic cause it makes a noise. Haven’t figured out the screwdriver bit yet.”

“And I have not figured out either of you yet,” Larne remarked.

“Me?”

“You said you traveled the universe together. In the Blue Box.”

The woman nodded. “Yeah, we do.”

“But you are not ‘together’?” She echoed the woman’s words.

“Oh! Well I meant, we’re just mates—friends!” She amended when Larne looked at her. “Best friends traveling the universe.”

“I see,” Larne said, though she did not.

“Well, good,” said Donna of the Blue Box, though she did not look sure of that herself. “Cause that’s all we are.”

“Everyone!” Aerka had returned with the Doctor of the Blue Box, who placed himself back at his companion’s side. “We must discuss a new strategy. This Doctor’s Blue Box, it has the ability to travel through the Capitol’s defenses.”

“We could seize the Capitol!”

“We could destroy the Leader and his Interrogators!”

“No. No destroying, not if that means killing,” the Doctor of the Blue Box interrupted.

Larne looked at him incredulously. “They have taken everything from us! Land, food, our own people they jail just for daring to speak out against them!”

“But killing isn’t the answer.”

“He’s right,” Donna of the Blue Box spoke up. “I mean, you all are hiding out here in the woods because you’re seen as rebels. If you kill the Leader, well then they’ll never see you as anything else! You don’t need to kill. You just need to show everyone you’re right.”

There was wisdom in her words. She could see how Aerka and the others were all affected; though none were more so than the Doctor of the Blue Box. He watched his companion with that same soft look from before in his eyes, a smile proud and fond allowed openly on his face. And Larne still did not understand—in what way were they not ‘together’?

But the cause was more important than a puzzling pair of strangers. “We could take their food. I have seen it. They are eating like the kings they are while we starve. If we could show the people the shortage is false—”

“They will have no choice but to believe us,” her sister finished for her. “There would be outrage throughout the country!”

“Now that’s more like it!” The Doctor of the Blue Box praised. “There’s got to be some way of informing people, the quicker the better.”

“Well there’s got to be some sort of broadcast system, right?” Donna of the Blue Box asked. “Some way they’ve been using to spread false information to people. We could get control of that and it’d reach everybody.”

“They use radio,” Porin added. “The Leader makes daily addresses from his mansion. Everyone in the Capitol is required to have one in their home.”

“Brilliant, Donna!” The Doctor of the Blue Box somehow grew only more ecstatic. “Right, so we’ll need two groups. One to secure the food, and one to take control of the broadcast system. Donna, you and Aerka will lead the food party. I’ll need to get the radio working for us.”

“I have been working on a device to preempt their frequency,” Porin said. “It is still very rudimentary.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble! Let me have a look at it and I’m sure we’ll have it working in no time. You are?”

“Porin of the Twin Lakes.”

“Right, Porin and I will make our way to the broadcasting equipment.”

“I will go with you as well,” Larne stated.

Aerka shook her head. “Larne, you will stay here—”

“Sister, we both know I am not a child! You have trusted me to be your eyes and ears before. What has changed?”

“I nearly lost you!”

Larne stared at her sister and the tears in her eyes in shock. “I’m sorry. But this has always been bigger than you or me. It’s the cause. It’s our freedom.”

After a moment, her sister swallowed and nodded. Then she turned a hardened gaze on the Doctor of the Blue Box. “You will protect my sister.”

“I promise,” he replied solemnly.

“It’s okay,” Donna of the Blue Box said softly, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You can trust him.”

Larne fared slightly better the second time she entered the strange Blue Box. The others were all about as stunned and alarmed as she had been the first journey, though Porin studied the two strangers’ odd dance around the central column intently.

Upon landing at their new destination—what turned out to be a cupboard containing supplies for the cleaning staff of their Leader’s mansion—the groups split off, the two strangers exchanging just a brief look before parting ways, apparently communicating all the other needed to know. Larne found herself more intrigued than before. She had been fighting for the resistance what felt like all her life, but these two had fallen into it only today yet acted as though this was their every day!

She led the Doctor of the Blue Box and Porin down a series of passageways, using everything she remembered from the intelligence gathered by their infiltrators. It was Porin who identified the room containing the contraption used for the Leader’s broadcast, and he and the Doctor of the Blue Box quickly set to work. Larne stood by the door, keeping watch though occasionally sneaking glances at the stranger.

“Why did you send your friend with the others?”

“Oh, well they’ll need her organizational skills,” the Doctor of the Blue Box answered. “If anyone can get all of that food packed up and moved before the guards notice, it’s her. Donna’s brilliant.”

“You have mentioned. You do not fear for her?”

He did not even pause to consider the question. “Of course I do. But she knows how to take care of herself, my Donna.”

“Your Donna?”

The man looked up, startled. “Er, well I meant—not my Donna. She’s not—we’re not, rather. Listen, just—don’t tell her I said that—”

“Shh!” There were footsteps coming from down the corridor. Porin leapt to his feet and joined her at the door.

“You there!” A guard hurried down the corridor, another close on his heels. “Rebels! How did you get in?”

Larne looked in alarm to the other two. They were cornered in this room, nothing but the radio parts to possibly aid them.

“That’s right, we’re rebels and we’ve reached all the way to your mansion,” the Doctor of the Blue Box admitted freely. “What are you gonna do about it?” Was he insane?

“Summon the Leader. He will want to deal with them.”

One of the guards continued to hold a gun on them even after his fellow left. Larne and Porin exchanged fearful glances, but their strange compatriot did not seem remotely concerned, instead sitting on the little table to wait.

“We’re holding them here, sir,” the second guard was returning, and with him was a man Larne had never seen in person but whose features she had memorized from every poster and every statue. “Just a handful of them. They broke into the broadcasting station.”

“I see.” He looked over them each in turn, pausing at the sight of the one called Doctor. “You are not from here.”

“He was detained along with a woman earlier, sir. They escaped and we had been tracking them down since.”

“And where is the woman? Clever enough not to find herself recaptured.”

“Yes she is,” the Doctor of the Blue Box agreed.

“So you thought to disrupt my daily address?’

“That is not all we rebels have done.”

“Aerka!” Larne cried in dismay. What was she doing? Her sister need to get that food out to the people. Instead her sister was standing in the middle of the corridor defiantly, Donna of the Blue Box flanking her and the others close behind. One of the guards turned a gun on them as well.

“Oh, there’s more of you, are there?”

“Yes, and we have uncovered your treachery. Your stores of food are under our control now.”

“You think that’s everything I have?” The hateful man laughed loudly. “You’ve helped yourself to some food. Even if I let you go with it right now, what would you accomplish? Feeding yourselves for a handful of days? And really, who would believe you about where you’d gotten it? Everyone knows there’s a food shortage!”

“Because you’ve been lying to them about there being one,” the Doctor of the Blue Box stated. He was no longer smiling. “You use it to control them, make them fear going hungry, their families going hungry. Their husbands and wives, their sisters and brothers, their children.”

“Your point?”

Donna of the Blue Box’s face contorted in disgust. “You’re just gonna keep letting them starve to death?”

“Of course! As long as all those people think there is a shortage, they’ll pay anything for food. Anything! I’ve never been so rich, and they’ve never been so idiotic!”

“Well, thank you, your Leadership. That was exactly what we needed you to say,” spoke the Doctor of the Blue Box. “And that concludes today’s broadcast, I think.” He reached down, switching off the radio transmitter that Larne only just now realized had been on the entire time.

“What?”

“Everyone with a radio heard what he just said?” Donna of the Blue Box checked.

“Yep,” said her companion, the end of the word a pop of sound.

“But—how?” The Leader gaped, suddenly not very imposing at all. “How could you have set it up? How could you have known my guards would find you, that I would say those things?”

“Oh, we were always supposed to get caught,” the Doctor of the Blue Box revealed with a grin. “It was your voice the people needed to hear, after all. Their Leader, speaking the truth at last.”

“You have only yourself to blame,” Larne spat at the man she had been raised to fear and revile.

His face contorted, and he reached for the gun of the guard nearest to him. “I will not be defeated by children!”

“Larne!”

She was knocked to the ground just as the shot rang out, and someone fell just in front of her. Two people screamed; her sister who had shouted her name and Donna of the Blue Box.

Larne sat up. The Leader was being held down by Porin and the disarmed guard. The others had taken the gun off the other guard and were making him kneel as well. Sprawled in front of her was the Doctor, red trickling down from a wound on his forehead.

A wound that had been meant for her.

“Doctor!” Donna shoved past the Leader and guard on the ground, throwing herself down in front of her companion. Her hands hovered just above his shoulders, as if afraid to touch him.

“It’s alright,” he slurred, eyes blinking open slowly. “M’alright, Donna. Just grazed me.”

“You stupid Spaceman,” the woman said fiercely, but her voice shook and a tear fell to splash on his cheek. “What’d you do that for?”

“Couldn’t let her…not again.”

Donna pressed a hand to her mouth and more tears fell.

“I am sorry,” Larne said, shifting forward.

“It’s alright,” Donna dismissed with a shake of the head before quickly looking back to the Doctor. “What do you need?”

“The TARDIS. Back to…the TARDIS. Help me.”

Larne helped lift the Doctor onto his feet. He leaned heavily on his companion. As they shuffled out into the corridor, Aerka hurried to her side and seemed to check her over for injuries.

“I was not the one hurt,” she insisted.

“I know, and for that I will always be grateful. Doctor of the Blue Box, you have my thanks again.”

The only indication he had heard was his mumbled, “Promised.”

“Hey, don’t—don’t speak. Save your strength,” Donna chided him gently.

It was a slow, halting journey back to the Blue Box. Upon entering, the place emitted a low, melancholy hum. They settled the Doctor in a beat-up chair just to the side of the central column. Donna checked him over before leaving him briefly to guide them back to the doors.

“Is there anything we can do?” Aerka asked.

“I am sorry—” Larne began again.

“Don’t you worry about us. You’ve got a whole country to help look after now,” she reminded them. “I can take care of him.”

“Donna,” came the Doctor’s weak voice from within the Blue Box.

“Sorry to leave like this. We’ll come back sometime,” the woman promised. “Keep looking out for each other.”

“We will.”

“Thank you.”

The woman gave them a last smile, then stepped back inside and closed the door. A few moments later Larne watched for the first time as the Blue Box wheezed, a wind whipping up around them before it faded in and out of view then disappeared entirely.

“Such strange people,” her sister remarked. “Who were they?”

“The Doctor and Donna of the Blue Box…I do not think we will ever know.”

They turned away, ready to shoulder the task at hand. It was everything they’d fought so long for, and it was now theirs thanks to the kindness of the mysterious pair.