Do I have a choice? (Part 1 of 2)
Title: Do I have a choice?
Characters: Donna, The Doctor (unexpected 11, actually)
Summary: Donna and the Doctor get into an argument, and the TARDIS takes charge. Or, a hurt/comfort fic in which the Doctor is a bit hurt and Donna doesn't feel like being very comforting.
Rating: G, PG-ish but not really
Notes: written for weekly drabble challenge 29 (locked) at doctor_donna
More notes: I have no idea where this came from. It started in one place, went to another, and ended up somewhere I didn't at all expect. Still, I hope you enjoy it. :)
Probably not for the first time in her history, the TARDIS groaned as one of its occupants slammed their door. Definitely for the first time, however, that person reappeared within a few minutes, dragging a large suitcase behind them.
“Donna!”
The Doctor rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall, finally arriving in the control room.
“Donna, get back here,” he shouted. “Now.”
In response Donna flipped a couple switches, throwing them both off balance as the TARDIS jerked into motion.
“Get away from me!” Donna shrieked as the Doctor approached. “I’m leaving, okay? Deal with it, and if you can’t, find someone who cares.”
“First of all,” the Doctor said, stumbling in front of her and impeding her progress toward the door, “no, it’s not okay. I didn’t say you could go.”
“You can’t control when I leave,” Donna snapped, shoving him out of her way. He fell to the grating and she simply stomped past him, carrying several of her bags to the entrance of the ship and setting them down. “You don’t own me, Doctor. I can leave when I want.”
“Donna, please,” the Doctor said, dusting off his pants. “Don’t act like this. Just talk to me.”
“No,” Donna spat. “Now goodbye. Have a nice life, or lives, or whatever you have.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is about!”
“Of course it is,” Donna said sharply. “You couldn’t tell me? You couldn’t trust me with...with something this big? You obviously don’t have any feelings for me, so I should just leave.”
“Donna, that’s not true. That’s actually so far from true. Please talk to me.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” she said, rolling her eyes in disgust as she looked him over. “I’m-” The TARDIS thudded to a halt and she smiled insincerely. “Oh, right. I’m leaving.”
“Donna, please. I need you.”
“You do not,” she said, storming up to him. “If you needed me you would have told me this could happen, instead of just letting me find out like this. Doctor, I hate you.”
“Please don’t say that....”
“I do. I hate you. And believe me, I won’t go looking for you again, so enjoy being alone.”
“Donna....”
“Not listening!”
“Donna, you can’t leave.”
“Oh, but I can!” She pulled on the door but it wouldn’t budge. “No I can’t. Why can’t I leave?”
“Thank you,” the Doctor murmured, casting a glance up at his ship. “She’s locked you in.”
“And why’s that then?” she said, pressing herself against the wall. “What are you going to do to me? You know my granddad could probably spread your body across several galaxies, so you better be careful. I’m not afraid of you.”
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he said simply. He stepped up to her, sighing as she flinched. “Donna, please. It’s just me. The Doctor, remember? I’m your friend.”
“Friends tell each other things. Friends don’t do things like this to each other, and if they knew it was going to happen they would say something. You are not my friend. I don’t even know you.” He reached for her arm but she pulled away. “Get away from me!” She turned, tugging on the door with all her might. “Let me out!” she screamed. “Granddad! Mum! Help me!”
“Donna, stop it!”
Donna whirled around at his voice, lower in pitch than before and certainly more threatening than when she’d first met him. His body, however, looked ragged and exhausted. He was leaning heavily against the console, his eyes only half open now. “Are you....are you all right?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, and promptly collapsed to the floor. “I don’t suppose you could call Martha? She’d help, I’m sure of it.”
“She’s out with Tom for the weekend,” Donna replied, slowly walking up to him. “What do you need help with? What’s wrong with you?”
“You said you didn’t care.”
“I still don’t,” she said shortly. “But you’re not well. Even I’m smart enough to know that.”
“I know you are,” he said, smiling up at her. “Donna, you’re marvelous. Oooo, I like that. Marvelous. Marvelous is a nice word, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, whatever. What can I do to help?”
“Tea, please,” he croaked. “Tea would be marvelous. Just like you.”
Donna didn’t say anything but backed away from him, making her way to the corridor that led to the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned with two mugs in her hands, a banana balanced on one arm. “Here you are. I thought a banana might help.”
“Bananas are disgusting,” he said, frowning up at her.
Donna sighed impatiently. “Fine then. See if I try to help you again. I’ll take your tea back too.”
“Donna, wait!” She stopped, turning back toward him. “I’m sorry. I just....I don’t like them. But thank you for thinking of it. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” she said reluctantly, and set his tea on the floor beside him, setting the banana on the console and taking her own mug of tea to the door, which was still locked. She sighed again and leaned against the wall, tapping her foot. “How long until I can leave?”
“I hate to tell you, but you may have been kidnapped for an extended period,” he admitted.
Donna’s face went very pale. “You mean you really did kidnap me? I was just kidding.”
“No, no, no,” he said quickly, trying to be as reassuring as possible as he said, “the TARDIS did.”
“Right. Blame the ship. Nice one.” She sighed. “All right, what do I need to do?”
“Well, I’m hardly comfortable on this grating. Have you ever tried sleeping on here?”
“No, but the next time I want to rent a hotel I’ll call you for a recommendation. Get up then.”
The Doctor smiled shyly and Donna couldn’t help but feel bad for him, with his childish little grin and surprisingly tidy hair. “I can’t,” he said finally. “My knees have locked up. Sorry.”
“So why are you apologizing to- Oh, no you don’t. I’m not carrying you.”
“Do you want to go home or don’t you?”
Donna considered it for a moment then set down her tea and approached him, carefully lifting him so he could lean against her side. “Well come on. Don’t think you’re not doing any work here, mate. I can’t lift you by myself.”
“Donna, I’m sorry. I-”
“Shut up and put your arms around my waist, will you?”
The Doctor gulped. “Excuse me? My what around your what?”
“Just do it!” Donna cried in exasperation. “If I get you to a bed the TARDIS might let me out.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He complied and after much awkward shuffling and his head ending up in the wrong place they reached a small door, which immediately cracked open.
“Oh, you are kidding me,” Donna groaned. “This is my room.”
“Doesn’t matter much to me,” he admitted, his head lolling onto her chest.
“Get off!”
She shoved him unceremoniously off of her, sending him tumbling backward. He fortunately managed to land on the bed, falling onto it with a soft thump. “Good. Can I leave now?”
“Nope,” he said, sighing as he relaxed. “She won’t unlock the door until I’m well. I’m sorry.”
“Well it’s not my problem. Make her let me go.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” He looked up at her, reaching for her hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly.
Donna stared at him, taking in all the angles of his face. He looked pitiful, to be honest; if his last body, or self, or version, or whatever he wanted to call it had the kicked puppy face down to an art this Doctor had perfected it. His clothes were a bit dusty and torn from his fall to the grating and while he’d managed to change his shirt his brown pants and his bright red shoes looked awkward on this shorter, slightly stockier body. He had blue eyes now, nearly the same color as hers in fact, and he had yelled something earlier about still not being ginger while tugging on his own wiry brown (although lighter than before) hair. He was curly now too, something that had escaped her attention at first, and all his freckles had vanished, replaced by a permanent look of embarrassment as his cheeks refused to lose their red tinge. He was still scrawny though, and she decided that she had been right all along; he needed to eat more.
“How about a sandwich?” she said suddenly. “I left all my things in the kitchen so there should be something in there you’ll like.”
“I’d love one, thanks,” he replied. She started to walk out and he called her name as she reached the doorway. “Donna, thank you. I know you’re angry with me, but thank you.”
“Yeah,” she said quietly, “I am. But you’d do the same thing for me, so I suppose I should return the favor.” She smiled hesitantly. “You still would, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat,” he replied quickly. “Well, you know what I mean.”
Donna just rolled her eyes. “Get some sleep, Spaceman,” she called as she left.
“Yes, Mum,” the Doctor mumbled, and snuggled down into bed as much as possible, drifting to sleep almost instantly.
And the rest....
Characters: Donna, The Doctor (unexpected 11, actually)
Summary: Donna and the Doctor get into an argument, and the TARDIS takes charge. Or, a hurt/comfort fic in which the Doctor is a bit hurt and Donna doesn't feel like being very comforting.
Rating: G, PG-ish but not really
Notes: written for weekly drabble challenge 29 (locked) at doctor_donna
More notes: I have no idea where this came from. It started in one place, went to another, and ended up somewhere I didn't at all expect. Still, I hope you enjoy it. :)
Probably not for the first time in her history, the TARDIS groaned as one of its occupants slammed their door. Definitely for the first time, however, that person reappeared within a few minutes, dragging a large suitcase behind them.
“Donna!”
The Doctor rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall, finally arriving in the control room.
“Donna, get back here,” he shouted. “Now.”
In response Donna flipped a couple switches, throwing them both off balance as the TARDIS jerked into motion.
“Get away from me!” Donna shrieked as the Doctor approached. “I’m leaving, okay? Deal with it, and if you can’t, find someone who cares.”
“First of all,” the Doctor said, stumbling in front of her and impeding her progress toward the door, “no, it’s not okay. I didn’t say you could go.”
“You can’t control when I leave,” Donna snapped, shoving him out of her way. He fell to the grating and she simply stomped past him, carrying several of her bags to the entrance of the ship and setting them down. “You don’t own me, Doctor. I can leave when I want.”
“Donna, please,” the Doctor said, dusting off his pants. “Don’t act like this. Just talk to me.”
“No,” Donna spat. “Now goodbye. Have a nice life, or lives, or whatever you have.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is about!”
“Of course it is,” Donna said sharply. “You couldn’t tell me? You couldn’t trust me with...with something this big? You obviously don’t have any feelings for me, so I should just leave.”
“Donna, that’s not true. That’s actually so far from true. Please talk to me.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” she said, rolling her eyes in disgust as she looked him over. “I’m-” The TARDIS thudded to a halt and she smiled insincerely. “Oh, right. I’m leaving.”
“Donna, please. I need you.”
“You do not,” she said, storming up to him. “If you needed me you would have told me this could happen, instead of just letting me find out like this. Doctor, I hate you.”
“Please don’t say that....”
“I do. I hate you. And believe me, I won’t go looking for you again, so enjoy being alone.”
“Donna....”
“Not listening!”
“Donna, you can’t leave.”
“Oh, but I can!” She pulled on the door but it wouldn’t budge. “No I can’t. Why can’t I leave?”
“Thank you,” the Doctor murmured, casting a glance up at his ship. “She’s locked you in.”
“And why’s that then?” she said, pressing herself against the wall. “What are you going to do to me? You know my granddad could probably spread your body across several galaxies, so you better be careful. I’m not afraid of you.”
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he said simply. He stepped up to her, sighing as she flinched. “Donna, please. It’s just me. The Doctor, remember? I’m your friend.”
“Friends tell each other things. Friends don’t do things like this to each other, and if they knew it was going to happen they would say something. You are not my friend. I don’t even know you.” He reached for her arm but she pulled away. “Get away from me!” She turned, tugging on the door with all her might. “Let me out!” she screamed. “Granddad! Mum! Help me!”
“Donna, stop it!”
Donna whirled around at his voice, lower in pitch than before and certainly more threatening than when she’d first met him. His body, however, looked ragged and exhausted. He was leaning heavily against the console, his eyes only half open now. “Are you....are you all right?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, and promptly collapsed to the floor. “I don’t suppose you could call Martha? She’d help, I’m sure of it.”
“She’s out with Tom for the weekend,” Donna replied, slowly walking up to him. “What do you need help with? What’s wrong with you?”
“You said you didn’t care.”
“I still don’t,” she said shortly. “But you’re not well. Even I’m smart enough to know that.”
“I know you are,” he said, smiling up at her. “Donna, you’re marvelous. Oooo, I like that. Marvelous. Marvelous is a nice word, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, whatever. What can I do to help?”
“Tea, please,” he croaked. “Tea would be marvelous. Just like you.”
Donna didn’t say anything but backed away from him, making her way to the corridor that led to the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned with two mugs in her hands, a banana balanced on one arm. “Here you are. I thought a banana might help.”
“Bananas are disgusting,” he said, frowning up at her.
Donna sighed impatiently. “Fine then. See if I try to help you again. I’ll take your tea back too.”
“Donna, wait!” She stopped, turning back toward him. “I’m sorry. I just....I don’t like them. But thank you for thinking of it. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” she said reluctantly, and set his tea on the floor beside him, setting the banana on the console and taking her own mug of tea to the door, which was still locked. She sighed again and leaned against the wall, tapping her foot. “How long until I can leave?”
“I hate to tell you, but you may have been kidnapped for an extended period,” he admitted.
Donna’s face went very pale. “You mean you really did kidnap me? I was just kidding.”
“No, no, no,” he said quickly, trying to be as reassuring as possible as he said, “the TARDIS did.”
“Right. Blame the ship. Nice one.” She sighed. “All right, what do I need to do?”
“Well, I’m hardly comfortable on this grating. Have you ever tried sleeping on here?”
“No, but the next time I want to rent a hotel I’ll call you for a recommendation. Get up then.”
The Doctor smiled shyly and Donna couldn’t help but feel bad for him, with his childish little grin and surprisingly tidy hair. “I can’t,” he said finally. “My knees have locked up. Sorry.”
“So why are you apologizing to- Oh, no you don’t. I’m not carrying you.”
“Do you want to go home or don’t you?”
Donna considered it for a moment then set down her tea and approached him, carefully lifting him so he could lean against her side. “Well come on. Don’t think you’re not doing any work here, mate. I can’t lift you by myself.”
“Donna, I’m sorry. I-”
“Shut up and put your arms around my waist, will you?”
The Doctor gulped. “Excuse me? My what around your what?”
“Just do it!” Donna cried in exasperation. “If I get you to a bed the TARDIS might let me out.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He complied and after much awkward shuffling and his head ending up in the wrong place they reached a small door, which immediately cracked open.
“Oh, you are kidding me,” Donna groaned. “This is my room.”
“Doesn’t matter much to me,” he admitted, his head lolling onto her chest.
“Get off!”
She shoved him unceremoniously off of her, sending him tumbling backward. He fortunately managed to land on the bed, falling onto it with a soft thump. “Good. Can I leave now?”
“Nope,” he said, sighing as he relaxed. “She won’t unlock the door until I’m well. I’m sorry.”
“Well it’s not my problem. Make her let me go.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” He looked up at her, reaching for her hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly.
Donna stared at him, taking in all the angles of his face. He looked pitiful, to be honest; if his last body, or self, or version, or whatever he wanted to call it had the kicked puppy face down to an art this Doctor had perfected it. His clothes were a bit dusty and torn from his fall to the grating and while he’d managed to change his shirt his brown pants and his bright red shoes looked awkward on this shorter, slightly stockier body. He had blue eyes now, nearly the same color as hers in fact, and he had yelled something earlier about still not being ginger while tugging on his own wiry brown (although lighter than before) hair. He was curly now too, something that had escaped her attention at first, and all his freckles had vanished, replaced by a permanent look of embarrassment as his cheeks refused to lose their red tinge. He was still scrawny though, and she decided that she had been right all along; he needed to eat more.
“How about a sandwich?” she said suddenly. “I left all my things in the kitchen so there should be something in there you’ll like.”
“I’d love one, thanks,” he replied. She started to walk out and he called her name as she reached the doorway. “Donna, thank you. I know you’re angry with me, but thank you.”
“Yeah,” she said quietly, “I am. But you’d do the same thing for me, so I suppose I should return the favor.” She smiled hesitantly. “You still would, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat,” he replied quickly. “Well, you know what I mean.”
Donna just rolled her eyes. “Get some sleep, Spaceman,” she called as she left.
“Yes, Mum,” the Doctor mumbled, and snuggled down into bed as much as possible, drifting to sleep almost instantly.
And the rest....