Reaction fic to "Journey's End" (5/9)
Still spoilery, and double-checked by jetpack_monkey. Concrit very welcome, it probably needs it.
Nine Ways Donna Noble Had a Fantastic Life
by Christina K
copyright 2008
5.
The first thing to understand is that it wasn't Jack's fault. He was temporarily amnesia'd at the time.
("Are we sure that would have stopped you?" Mickey asked, looking dubious.
"Yes." Ianto glared at him before Jack can answer. "Some things we don't mess with. The need for Retconn because of unanticipated trysts is one of them.")
So waking up in bed with Donna Noble would've been just another Saturday for Jack, if (a) they hadn't been in the middle of another Rift emergency, (b) Ianto had been there too, (c) he'd had a goddamn clue who he was, and (d) if Donna hadn't been so ridiculously helpful while fighting off the extra-dimensional squid who interrupted their second go-round.
Because that meant Gwen and Ianto and Mickey and Martha didn't question why she went along for the ride to the Cardiff Museum for the big showdown, once they'd retrieved Jack from their B&B. A Jack who was just starting to remember his own past, and asking all the wrong questions at 75kmph.
("You really don't remember me from before? Because I could swear we were at a party together. Before the one last night, I mean."
Donna gave him a nice try, sunshine look and clutched the edge of her seat, the SUV's brakes squealing as Ianto took a turn. "Um, no. You, I'd remember. Especially the thing with your tongue."
Gwen face-palmed and Martha was growing rapidly more red as Jack mused aloud. "Hunh. The Daleks? The Earth being towed across the universe? You knowing a million things about transdimensional travel?"
"Should I be wearing glasses for this fantasy, or just a white lab-coat?"
"This is so weird. And sure!"
"Not now, Jack," chorused the rest of Torchwood.)
After that, it was all screaming and running and shooting at squid and laying down chemical foam, and Donna talking trash to bad guys for long enough to distract them and save everyone, and then Jack passed out again.
("You lot must be the most lost tourists in time in space, if you're going to Cardiff on holiday--")
When he woke up two days later, no one else wanted to be the one to Retconn her.
Although it didn't look like it was going to be necessary.
("I'm no Tosh, but when Donna gets closer to the Rift, activity goes up. It's like it's getting a charge from her presence," Mickey reported. "It's pulling energy off her. Don't ask me how."
"She should have shown signs of brain damage by now, too." Martha had her arms crossed, watching Jack carefully. "But she's not. She's fine, Jack. And she remembers-- well. She remembers saying good-bye to us, at the TARDIS. Nothing else. Not yet. But....")
Donna needed a job. Jack had (don't say position, don't say 'opening') a job that needed doing there in Cardiff. He said he thought she could handle it.
Maybe he just didn't believe in coincidences; if he'd found her when he didn't even know who he was, well. Who was he to question it?
She still thought they were all crazy. But. Really. It had been fun, telling those pink glowy jellyfish what she thought of them, then watching Gwen cover them with fire extinguisher goop. Why would she pass up the chance to do that again?
Memories started to come back, week by week. Daleks first. That had left her shaking and crouched in the Hub, until Martha talked her out of there. Then another world, another time, so awful, dark and depressing. Bombs in London. Camps. Granddad crying. Mum never talking. A world where she'd never met... someone. And a huge gigantic creepy beetle, what was that about?
("Sometimes it's better not to remember, you know."
"Yeah, right, Captain Hotness. So why don't you Retconn yourself every evening after a bad one, hmm?"
"Donna Noble, you are too sharp by half. And not just your tongue.")
The thing was, when she had headaches from the memories and the nightmares, it always improved when she was in the Hub. The Rift would increase in activity; there would be a drop in temperature, and... Donna would feel better. And remember something else.
In the meantime, she was helping fight off alien invasions, orienting tourists, finding out about advanced artifacts, and surviving the bits of involuntary time travel.
("Do you ever want to go back?"
"And have my brain dribble out my ears? I belong here now."
"That's not an answer."
"It's all you're getting. Go play with your boy now. Me and the Hub are just fine on our own.")
If she died doing this, Torchwood could have her brain, and welcome to it. They'd gotten it back for her. She figured she owed them one.
Nine Ways Donna Noble Had a Fantastic Life
by Christina K
copyright 2008
5.
The first thing to understand is that it wasn't Jack's fault. He was temporarily amnesia'd at the time.
("Are we sure that would have stopped you?" Mickey asked, looking dubious.
"Yes." Ianto glared at him before Jack can answer. "Some things we don't mess with. The need for Retconn because of unanticipated trysts is one of them.")
So waking up in bed with Donna Noble would've been just another Saturday for Jack, if (a) they hadn't been in the middle of another Rift emergency, (b) Ianto had been there too, (c) he'd had a goddamn clue who he was, and (d) if Donna hadn't been so ridiculously helpful while fighting off the extra-dimensional squid who interrupted their second go-round.
Because that meant Gwen and Ianto and Mickey and Martha didn't question why she went along for the ride to the Cardiff Museum for the big showdown, once they'd retrieved Jack from their B&B. A Jack who was just starting to remember his own past, and asking all the wrong questions at 75kmph.
("You really don't remember me from before? Because I could swear we were at a party together. Before the one last night, I mean."
Donna gave him a nice try, sunshine look and clutched the edge of her seat, the SUV's brakes squealing as Ianto took a turn. "Um, no. You, I'd remember. Especially the thing with your tongue."
Gwen face-palmed and Martha was growing rapidly more red as Jack mused aloud. "Hunh. The Daleks? The Earth being towed across the universe? You knowing a million things about transdimensional travel?"
"Should I be wearing glasses for this fantasy, or just a white lab-coat?"
"This is so weird. And sure!"
"Not now, Jack," chorused the rest of Torchwood.)
After that, it was all screaming and running and shooting at squid and laying down chemical foam, and Donna talking trash to bad guys for long enough to distract them and save everyone, and then Jack passed out again.
("You lot must be the most lost tourists in time in space, if you're going to Cardiff on holiday--")
When he woke up two days later, no one else wanted to be the one to Retconn her.
Although it didn't look like it was going to be necessary.
("I'm no Tosh, but when Donna gets closer to the Rift, activity goes up. It's like it's getting a charge from her presence," Mickey reported. "It's pulling energy off her. Don't ask me how."
"She should have shown signs of brain damage by now, too." Martha had her arms crossed, watching Jack carefully. "But she's not. She's fine, Jack. And she remembers-- well. She remembers saying good-bye to us, at the TARDIS. Nothing else. Not yet. But....")
Donna needed a job. Jack had (don't say position, don't say 'opening') a job that needed doing there in Cardiff. He said he thought she could handle it.
Maybe he just didn't believe in coincidences; if he'd found her when he didn't even know who he was, well. Who was he to question it?
She still thought they were all crazy. But. Really. It had been fun, telling those pink glowy jellyfish what she thought of them, then watching Gwen cover them with fire extinguisher goop. Why would she pass up the chance to do that again?
Memories started to come back, week by week. Daleks first. That had left her shaking and crouched in the Hub, until Martha talked her out of there. Then another world, another time, so awful, dark and depressing. Bombs in London. Camps. Granddad crying. Mum never talking. A world where she'd never met... someone. And a huge gigantic creepy beetle, what was that about?
("Sometimes it's better not to remember, you know."
"Yeah, right, Captain Hotness. So why don't you Retconn yourself every evening after a bad one, hmm?"
"Donna Noble, you are too sharp by half. And not just your tongue.")
The thing was, when she had headaches from the memories and the nightmares, it always improved when she was in the Hub. The Rift would increase in activity; there would be a drop in temperature, and... Donna would feel better. And remember something else.
In the meantime, she was helping fight off alien invasions, orienting tourists, finding out about advanced artifacts, and surviving the bits of involuntary time travel.
("Do you ever want to go back?"
"And have my brain dribble out my ears? I belong here now."
"That's not an answer."
"It's all you're getting. Go play with your boy now. Me and the Hub are just fine on our own.")
If she died doing this, Torchwood could have her brain, and welcome to it. They'd gotten it back for her. She figured she owed them one.