Someone Remembered
Title: Someone Remembered
Characters: The Doctor (any regeneration after 11), Shaun, mentions of Donna
Pairings: Donna/Shaun, though it can also easily be interpreted as Doctor/Donna.
Summary: Shaun and the Doctor meet while they’re both visiting Donna.
Word Count: ~1,000
Rating/Warnings: Safe but sad. Mentions of past major character death.
Prompt: Travellers’ Tales prompt #11 (incomplete) at doctor_donna
Setting/Spoilers: This is set any time after the End of Time for Shaun and Donna (though I’m thinking it’s been a few years, both since the last time we canonically saw them and since Donna’s death). The Doctor’s timeline is unspecific, but he’s Twelve or later, so make of that what you will. (My head canon is that he's Thirteen, especially if there's the old regeneration limit, but it's not stated which Doctor he is.)
Notes: Hey, Jen, I remembered your birthday. (Sadly, angst is what came of me trying to write you something. Sorry, sweetheart, but I hope you can still enjoy it a bit. Also, this is bizarrely late. Love me anyway?)
More Notes: Unending thanks to doctorsgirl26 for listening to my flailing about this, and to a certain tiny someone who knows who she is for helping me patch this up.
Even More Notes: This contains references to the song “Lucy” by Skillet. If you know the song, you’ll probably see obvious parallels, but if you’ve never heard the song you’ll miss nothing. (This has nothing to do with the actual “theme” of the song, but there are a couple of distinct matches here and there because, well, I had it on loop and it stuck. Bah.)
Roses. Eight of them. Only eight.
He should have gone to a different shop, he decided. Surely another shop would have had a full dozen, but that one was Donna’s favorite. Still, there should have been more. More roses, more time, more everything.
Then again, she didn’t need flowers to make her special, and she likely would have laughed at the way he was carrying on about the whole ordeal anyway. He carefully touched her name as he stood, his fingers brushing the rough stone. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry?”
Shaun jumped, losing his balance and falling back to his knees.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” the other man offered again, shifting awkwardly. “I just heard you talking and thought....you know.”
“You’re all right,” Shaun assured him. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here, that’s all.”
“Well, these are my quiet feet.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I didn’t mean to interrupt your- it’s none of my business.”
“No, really, it’s all right. Are you here for....?” Shaun gestured uncomfortably at the headstone beside Donna’s, the area of which he was rather invading. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Nah,” the Doctor replied, forcing a smile to cross his face. “I was just passing through.”
“People don’t tend to just pass through cemeteries. Are you sure I’m not in the way?”
“I’m just visiting an old friend. More than just a friend, I suppose,” he added after a thoughtful pause, “but she never realized it. I should have told her, but it hardly matters now, does it?”
Shaun smiled, giving the man a little shake of his head. “If you loved her, you should have told her. My wife would have told you the same thing. You can’t keep things like that.”
The Doctor shook his head. “She didn’t- I wasn’t- it’s different.”
“I’m sure it was,” Shaun replied, “but it’s still true. If you care about someone, you can’t keep your mouth shut about it. Otherwise you end up alone, and no one can live with that, I don’t care who they are.”
“I did all right,” the Doctor said simply. He managed to avoid Shaun’s gaze for a moment but slowly shook his head. “I didn’t ask what she wanted, especially in the end. She shouldn’t have left, but I did what I wanted, trying to help her even though she argued with me. She always said I never listened,” he added with a small smile. “She wasn’t wrong. I learned, of course, but I wasn’t the same by then.”
Unsure what to make of the statement, Shaun just sighed. “I’m sure you did your best. My wife would have had it out on you though, carrying on about all the little mistakes when you should be thinking about the good things. There are always good things, and they’re more important than the bad. No matter what you did, you did it for her own good. That’s still love, mate.”
“I suppose you’re right,” the Doctor conceded.
Both men stood in silence for a moment, then the Doctor smiled. “Your wife. Did she teach you all that about loving people, sharing your feelings?”
Shaun hesitated, not sure whether to answer him, but he finally nodded. “She wasn’t always that bright, but she was the most clever people I’ve met.” He swallowed. “And the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen,” he continued, not seeing the other man nod beside him. “Okay, I’m being a bit of a romantic, but it’s true. And the two of us....we had a good enough life together, but I wish I could have done more for her, made her happier. She deserved everything, the entire universe if she wanted it.”
“The entire universe,” the Doctor agreed. “It sounds as if you really loved her.”
“Present tense,” Shaun corrected him gently. He glanced back at Donna’s headstone and turned away, feeling tears burning in the corners of his eyes. “Sorry. She was my wife, you know?”
“I’m sorry,” the Doctor mumbled. “I didn’t actually mean to-”
“It’s all right. It’s been a long year.”
“Tell me about it,” the Doctor chuckled softly.
Shaun didn’t reply.
Sometimes it felt like she had just gone, the pain fresh and new every time he came to see her. If he taxed his imagination, he could almost feel her, hold her, look into her eyes and have her with him again, bright and alive and safe, but he knew it was over, that she would never be back. He wished there was something he could have done to keep her, but there was nothing he could do about it now, nothing he could have even done about it then. She was just gone.
The Doctor carefully knelt beside her grave, reaching into the pocket of his coat and setting its contents on the stone in front of him. “Hello again, Donna,” he whispered, brushing some dust and crumpled leaves away. He was about to say something else, but after a moment he thought better of it, instead rising to his feet and distancing himself from her once more.
Finally composing himself, Shaun turned around. “So this friend of yours,” he began, but the man was gone. He looked back to the neighboring grave, but he was clearly alone.
Just as he was about to turn and start for home, he noticed another set of flowers settled beside his own, four of the strangest and yet most beautiful blooms he had ever seen. They were all different, one of them radiant purple with deep, delicate swirls decorating the petals, while another was a shocking bright pink that made him feel warm just looking at it. The others were even stranger, shimmering and shifting into different colors in the slowly diminishing light. Despite the differences, however, they seemed like they belonged with the rest of Donna’s, something that had been gone for far too long, returned at last, if a bit late.
Shaun looked around again and finally smiled, closing his eyes as a sudden breeze disturbed the trees a few yards away. “Thank you,” he said softly. He bent down, gently touching the engraving of his wife’s name again, then he started in the opposite direction.
The flowers remained, the only sign that someone remembered after all.
Characters: The Doctor (any regeneration after 11), Shaun, mentions of Donna
Pairings: Donna/Shaun, though it can also easily be interpreted as Doctor/Donna.
Summary: Shaun and the Doctor meet while they’re both visiting Donna.
Word Count: ~1,000
Rating/Warnings: Safe but sad. Mentions of past major character death.
Prompt: Travellers’ Tales prompt #11 (incomplete) at doctor_donna
Setting/Spoilers: This is set any time after the End of Time for Shaun and Donna (though I’m thinking it’s been a few years, both since the last time we canonically saw them and since Donna’s death). The Doctor’s timeline is unspecific, but he’s Twelve or later, so make of that what you will. (My head canon is that he's Thirteen, especially if there's the old regeneration limit, but it's not stated which Doctor he is.)
Notes: Hey, Jen, I remembered your birthday. (Sadly, angst is what came of me trying to write you something. Sorry, sweetheart, but I hope you can still enjoy it a bit. Also, this is bizarrely late. Love me anyway?)
More Notes: Unending thanks to doctorsgirl26 for listening to my flailing about this, and to a certain tiny someone who knows who she is for helping me patch this up.
Even More Notes: This contains references to the song “Lucy” by Skillet. If you know the song, you’ll probably see obvious parallels, but if you’ve never heard the song you’ll miss nothing. (This has nothing to do with the actual “theme” of the song, but there are a couple of distinct matches here and there because, well, I had it on loop and it stuck. Bah.)
Roses. Eight of them. Only eight.
He should have gone to a different shop, he decided. Surely another shop would have had a full dozen, but that one was Donna’s favorite. Still, there should have been more. More roses, more time, more everything.
Then again, she didn’t need flowers to make her special, and she likely would have laughed at the way he was carrying on about the whole ordeal anyway. He carefully touched her name as he stood, his fingers brushing the rough stone. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry?”
Shaun jumped, losing his balance and falling back to his knees.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” the other man offered again, shifting awkwardly. “I just heard you talking and thought....you know.”
“You’re all right,” Shaun assured him. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here, that’s all.”
“Well, these are my quiet feet.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I didn’t mean to interrupt your- it’s none of my business.”
“No, really, it’s all right. Are you here for....?” Shaun gestured uncomfortably at the headstone beside Donna’s, the area of which he was rather invading. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Nah,” the Doctor replied, forcing a smile to cross his face. “I was just passing through.”
“People don’t tend to just pass through cemeteries. Are you sure I’m not in the way?”
“I’m just visiting an old friend. More than just a friend, I suppose,” he added after a thoughtful pause, “but she never realized it. I should have told her, but it hardly matters now, does it?”
Shaun smiled, giving the man a little shake of his head. “If you loved her, you should have told her. My wife would have told you the same thing. You can’t keep things like that.”
The Doctor shook his head. “She didn’t- I wasn’t- it’s different.”
“I’m sure it was,” Shaun replied, “but it’s still true. If you care about someone, you can’t keep your mouth shut about it. Otherwise you end up alone, and no one can live with that, I don’t care who they are.”
“I did all right,” the Doctor said simply. He managed to avoid Shaun’s gaze for a moment but slowly shook his head. “I didn’t ask what she wanted, especially in the end. She shouldn’t have left, but I did what I wanted, trying to help her even though she argued with me. She always said I never listened,” he added with a small smile. “She wasn’t wrong. I learned, of course, but I wasn’t the same by then.”
Unsure what to make of the statement, Shaun just sighed. “I’m sure you did your best. My wife would have had it out on you though, carrying on about all the little mistakes when you should be thinking about the good things. There are always good things, and they’re more important than the bad. No matter what you did, you did it for her own good. That’s still love, mate.”
“I suppose you’re right,” the Doctor conceded.
Both men stood in silence for a moment, then the Doctor smiled. “Your wife. Did she teach you all that about loving people, sharing your feelings?”
Shaun hesitated, not sure whether to answer him, but he finally nodded. “She wasn’t always that bright, but she was the most clever people I’ve met.” He swallowed. “And the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen,” he continued, not seeing the other man nod beside him. “Okay, I’m being a bit of a romantic, but it’s true. And the two of us....we had a good enough life together, but I wish I could have done more for her, made her happier. She deserved everything, the entire universe if she wanted it.”
“The entire universe,” the Doctor agreed. “It sounds as if you really loved her.”
“Present tense,” Shaun corrected him gently. He glanced back at Donna’s headstone and turned away, feeling tears burning in the corners of his eyes. “Sorry. She was my wife, you know?”
“I’m sorry,” the Doctor mumbled. “I didn’t actually mean to-”
“It’s all right. It’s been a long year.”
“Tell me about it,” the Doctor chuckled softly.
Shaun didn’t reply.
Sometimes it felt like she had just gone, the pain fresh and new every time he came to see her. If he taxed his imagination, he could almost feel her, hold her, look into her eyes and have her with him again, bright and alive and safe, but he knew it was over, that she would never be back. He wished there was something he could have done to keep her, but there was nothing he could do about it now, nothing he could have even done about it then. She was just gone.
The Doctor carefully knelt beside her grave, reaching into the pocket of his coat and setting its contents on the stone in front of him. “Hello again, Donna,” he whispered, brushing some dust and crumpled leaves away. He was about to say something else, but after a moment he thought better of it, instead rising to his feet and distancing himself from her once more.
Finally composing himself, Shaun turned around. “So this friend of yours,” he began, but the man was gone. He looked back to the neighboring grave, but he was clearly alone.
Just as he was about to turn and start for home, he noticed another set of flowers settled beside his own, four of the strangest and yet most beautiful blooms he had ever seen. They were all different, one of them radiant purple with deep, delicate swirls decorating the petals, while another was a shocking bright pink that made him feel warm just looking at it. The others were even stranger, shimmering and shifting into different colors in the slowly diminishing light. Despite the differences, however, they seemed like they belonged with the rest of Donna’s, something that had been gone for far too long, returned at last, if a bit late.
Shaun looked around again and finally smiled, closing his eyes as a sudden breeze disturbed the trees a few yards away. “Thank you,” he said softly. He bent down, gently touching the engraving of his wife’s name again, then he started in the opposite direction.
The flowers remained, the only sign that someone remembered after all.