Finding the Right Words
Title: Finding the Right Words
Characters: Donna (mentions of Lance)
Summary: Donna can't find the right words. (Or, a bit in which Donna grows up a bit and realizes maybe Lance wasn't that bad of a guy after all.)
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Weekly Drabble Challenge #31 at doctor_donna, for the prompt 'theater'
It couldn’t be all that hard, really. She’d done worse, and no one but her would know the truth anyway. It was easier, in a way, at least for everyone else. “It’s better this way,” she murmured, then she took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone. Everyone was staring at her, a sea of black and Kleenex, and she adjusted her own black sweater, tugging absently at a stray thread. She swallowed, looking to her mother and father for support, but her mother only nodded impatiently and cleared her throat.
“Right, sorry. I guess it’s just a bit....a bit difficult to talk about him now. Lance was....he was a very special man. He....well, I didn’t know him as well as I should have, but I knew him well enough, and I loved him very much.”
Completely true, she told herself. I did love him, so much, and look what he did to me.
She cleared her throat, unable to think of the right words. It shouldn’t be so hard for her to do this, to just blatantly lie to all of her former fiancé’s family and friends. Her own parents would be harder, naturally, but she’d had plenty of practice with that so she shouldn’t be having trouble. After all, she had done theater, and this wasn’t so different. Of course being a tree in the second grade Alice in Wonderland or taking part in her high school’s production of Titus hardly counted; this was her, Donna, not some character or bit of scenery.
She blinked and wasn’t entirely surprised to feel a tear run down her cheek; after all, she was at her murderous fiancé’s funeral and her mother had insisted she give a speech. If she’d had her say in it she would have stayed home, or come up to the stage and told everyone the truth about their “beloved Lance, friend to all”. He sure had been a friend to all; all the Racnoss, that is. Just like theater, she told herself as she sniffled loudly, trying to regain her composure.
The Doctor popped into her mind and she remembered what he had told her. While they were flying (or warping, or whatever) back to her home he had asked her what her dreams were. When she refused to tell him, he simply told her to follow them, no matter how mad they seemed or how many obstacles were in her way. She took another deep breath and it suddenly occurred to her: Lance didn’t betray her just for the fun of it. He needed someone to help him accomplish his goals (no matter what they might have been) and he took the actions necessary to get there. He was just like her. Minus the murdering and spider shagging, of course, but that goes without saying. The Doctor said she should follow her dreams, but really that’s all Lance had done. His dreams had led him to do horrible and cruel things, but at least he had the courage to follow his imagination and try for what he wanted in life. She sat around home, going from one job to another, and thinking she couldn’t have what she wanted without even trying for it. In a way he was better than she was, and she had no right to cause everyone else pain just because Lanced had done things to her.
“Lance was very special,” she said at last. “He had a way of touching nearly everyone he met, and no matter how unimportant you thought you were he always made you feel needed. He might not have been the perfect man but he did what he thought was right for him and those he cared about, and that’s all we can really ask of each other. So Lance, wherever you are, be magnificent.” She stepped away and as the next person stepped up to speak she smiled at the picture of Lance sitting on the table. “Be magnificent,” she whispered. “I know I will be.”