She Never Really Forgot 13/15
Title: She Never Really Forgot 13/15
Author: KB
Rating: PG
Characters: Donna, the Doctor and other new people in their lives
Disclaimer: Ownership? Er, no. Not a snowflake’s chance in Vesuvius on Volcano Day.
Spoilers: All of Season 4
Summary: Donna’s life following the events in Journey’s End.
A/N: Can you call it a fixit fic if it was never really broken?
Chapter XIII - Preparing For A Visit
Donna watches through the window as the garden shed lifts of the ground, shapeshifts into Lee’s spaceship, and then disappears. Joshua and Ella are learning to fly it to the limits of its ability, working out all of the nuances so that, when the time comes, they can take up their genetic inheritance and fill the empty place among the seats of those whose self-appointed task it is to help save the universe.
For one fleeting moment, Donna wishes she was up there with them. She knows there is nothing so satisfying in the whole wide universe as saving people, and nothing as heartbreaking as seeing yourself fail. And she wants to share the good bits with them, and protect them from the bad bits.
“God,” she says herself aloud, turning to Ruby, who is playing with a rubber mouse, “Donna McAvey, you’re such a mother!”
And she laughs, even as she settles on the couch and gathers Ruby into her lap, her eyes sliding closed.
But before she can open her mind to the Doctor, the now-familiar pop-up goes off in her head.
Over time, she’s become used the knowledge that the TARDIS is landing on Earth, and she no longer feels the urge to be there when it happens. She knows that the Doctor can manage without her, and rather wonders at the egotism that made her think she was the only thing saving him.
Now, however, it’s different. Donna’s eyes snap open just in time to see the TARDIS materialise right in front of her. Two feet away. In the middle of the bloody living room!
Ruby is gone at the first whine of the engines, through the cat flap and out into the garden. Donna knows it will be hours before she ventures back in.
Getting up off the couch, Donna walks up to the TARDIS and then, for no reason that she can quite fathom, around it. She can feel the mind of the TARDIS in hers and, if she didn’t know better, she’d almost think the old girl was giggling.
“Okay, now I’m crazy!” she declares, throwing her arms in the air. “Completely potty, that’s what you are, Donna McAvey. It’s a machine, for Christ’s…”
And the next words die in her throat, because something clicks out from the side of the TARDIS in front of her and falls to the floor. And when she bends down to pick it up, the TARDIS doors swing open and she loses her balance, falling onto the ramp that leads up to the console.
And the doors shut with a loud snap.
“Oh, not again!”
Donna throws herself at the doors and twists the handle, but nothing happens. She fishes the sonic pen out of her pocket and aims, but no matter what setting she uses, nothing works. She looks around, her voice a low growl.
“Doctor, where are you? What are you doing?”
And yet, even as she speaks, she knows she’s alone on the TARDIS. There isn’t a single other living entity on board. So she goes up to the console, puts both hands on it, her fingers curled into fists and glares at the core.
“Well, what is it? You’ve got me here - and I better not be dropped into a bath of Z-neutrinos again!”
She swears that the TARDIS is giggling again, enjoying her discomfort, so she picks up the nearest mallet and whacks the ship with it.
“Stop it!”
And there an instant of silence in the part of her mind that she knows belongs to the ship, rather like that moment when a child freezes in front of you, trying to determine how angry you really are and whether they can keep misbehaving or have to be good.
Donna backs away, dropping the mallet as she goes, and slumps onto the jumpseat. It’s with a sense of irritation that she crosses her arms over her chest and looks around the console room.
“All right, I’m here, which is obviously what you wanted. Want to let me in on the secret of why, or are we going to sit here all day playing games?”
There’s silence from the ship and so Donna turns the screen on the console to face her. It’s clear that they haven’t moved, that the TARDIS is still sitting in the living room, and so she presumes they aren’t about to travel anywhere.
For twenty minutes she paces the console room, getting more and more impatient. She tries the external doors, but they refuse to open. And in the end she goes down into the bowels of the ship, thinking that a cup of tea might be the best way to pass the time.
She stops dead at the head of the corridor, staring at the blank walls that line it, where doors usually stand. There’s only one door, and it’s at the very far end. Even as she looks at it, the door swings open with the faintest creak.
“It would be right at the end,” Donna complains to the TARDIS, but even as she takes a step forward, the hallway seems to compress and she’s standing on the threshold of the room.
“Very nice.”
The ship hums in response to her compliment and she steps inside, seeing a large red chair and a table, sitting in front of a massive screen.
“Hmm, a movie night? Well, okay, if you say so.” She sits down. “Although I could do with something to eat.”
Plates, a jug and a glass materialise on the table and she picks up a biscuit, nibbling the edge.
“Ooh, lovely.” She waves it in the air. “I want the recipe for this!”
And then the lights dim and she settles back to watch the discovery of perhaps the most precious piece of news that she has ever received in her life.
* * *
As soon as she steps out of the doorway and back into the living room, the TARDIS begins to dematerialise and it’s gone before she can turn around.
“Thanks, old girl,” she murmurs to the departing ship. “I’ll see you soon.”
The object that the TARDIS used to distract her is still lying on the floor of the living room and Donna picks it up. With a grin, she unwraps the paper that is around it, and on which she can read the recipe for those biscuits. Sitting on the couch, she puts the paper aside and then begins to leaf through the notebook, seeing that it contains diagrams and drawings of parts of the TARDIS. She reads a bit, here and there, only giving her full attention to the final page before slapping it shut.
She can feel time drawing in and knows that she still has a great deal to do. And when a wave of pain and anguish washes over her, in her mind, but with that slight hint of alien thought that identifies it as coming from the Doctor, she knows what’s needed.
Leaning back against the cushions, she opens her mind to his and waits. Then she sees him, through his eyes, standing at the TARDIS console. He’s staring down at his feet and she can feel the fear he’s experiencing as the full understanding of the planet he has just left, and what it is going to do to him, hits home.
“Stupid,” he growls, but she can feel that it’s so much more than that. Because there’s no more regenerations waiting for him to use. Donna can feel the hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach, as if the world has dropped away.
Yet he doesn’t try to deny it, the way she thought he might. And it’s not because he’s unable to comprehend the full magnitude of what it will mean. He’s been surrounded by death all his life, particularly since the Time Wars, and he knows. He’s frightened, but he certainly isn’t going to try and escape his fate.
He walks around the console, pressing a button here and pulling a level there, trying to make an educated guess at how long he has, and meticulously planning for what is to come. Because this Doctor is far more organised than any of his predecessors. Then he leaves the console room and goes down into the wardrobe room. Takes a hanger off the rack and holds the brand new suit, still in its bag, up against himself. Ten minutes later and he’s changed into it and is doing up the laces on his shoes. Clean teeth, comb through his hair, handkerchief and assorted other things in pockets, and then he’s almost running up through the TARDIS and to the console.
The ship lands and the Doctor casts one final look around the interior before going to the doors and opening them.
He’s outside a house, which would look perfectly normal if the sky wasn’t green. But without hesitation he goes to the door and knocks. And when she answers, he tries to smile like nothing’s wrong.
“Doctor!” River Song smiles back, and then her jaw drops perceptibly. “You… you’ve had a haircut.”
“Oh, don’t say it like I never had one before.”
“Honestly? I’m not sure you ever did.”
He laughs, but it’s an effort. Still, she hasn’t noticed yet, because it’s been such a long time since they’ve seen each other, and beside, he didn’t look or sound like this the last time they met.
“Come with me,” he says, taking her hand. “I’ve got somewhere I want to take you.”
She eyes him up and down. “Obviously somewhere fancy.”
He shrugs. “Might as well make a night of it.”
“Okay.” She beams at him. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Oh, you can have twenty.”
And it does take her twenty minutes, but it’s worth the effort. She’s wearing emerald green, his favourite colour, and the dress sets off her eyes. Her jewellery is simple, just the way he likes it, apart from a green butterfly clip that holds back her curls and the green clutch purse hanging off her wrist on a thin chain. She stops at the top of the stairs and looks down at him with a smile.
“Well?”
“Stunning.”
She smiles in evident satisfaction and then comes down and takes his arm, following him into the TARDIS.
They emerge on a planet in the twilight. She stares around for a moment as the Doctor clicks his fingers to shut the doors of the TARDIS and then turns back to him.
“Where are we?”
“Darillium.” He takes her hand. “You’ll be back here in a few weeks and a couple of thousand years to do some excavating. It won’t look like this, though. Thought you might like to see what you’ll be looking for.”
“Doctor - this is just…”
“No.” He reaches up and places a finger against her lips. “Tonight - because it’s the last time - I’d like you to call me something different.”
And as he leans down to whisper in her ear, she doesn’t notice that he takes advantage of the moment to slide his sonic screwdriver into her purse.
Next chapter: Coming Back
And if you missed the earlier parts:
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII
Author: KB
Rating: PG
Characters: Donna, the Doctor and other new people in their lives
Disclaimer: Ownership? Er, no. Not a snowflake’s chance in Vesuvius on Volcano Day.
Spoilers: All of Season 4
Summary: Donna’s life following the events in Journey’s End.
A/N: Can you call it a fixit fic if it was never really broken?
Chapter XIII - Preparing For A Visit
Donna watches through the window as the garden shed lifts of the ground, shapeshifts into Lee’s spaceship, and then disappears. Joshua and Ella are learning to fly it to the limits of its ability, working out all of the nuances so that, when the time comes, they can take up their genetic inheritance and fill the empty place among the seats of those whose self-appointed task it is to help save the universe.
For one fleeting moment, Donna wishes she was up there with them. She knows there is nothing so satisfying in the whole wide universe as saving people, and nothing as heartbreaking as seeing yourself fail. And she wants to share the good bits with them, and protect them from the bad bits.
“God,” she says herself aloud, turning to Ruby, who is playing with a rubber mouse, “Donna McAvey, you’re such a mother!”
And she laughs, even as she settles on the couch and gathers Ruby into her lap, her eyes sliding closed.
But before she can open her mind to the Doctor, the now-familiar pop-up goes off in her head.
Over time, she’s become used the knowledge that the TARDIS is landing on Earth, and she no longer feels the urge to be there when it happens. She knows that the Doctor can manage without her, and rather wonders at the egotism that made her think she was the only thing saving him.
Now, however, it’s different. Donna’s eyes snap open just in time to see the TARDIS materialise right in front of her. Two feet away. In the middle of the bloody living room!
Ruby is gone at the first whine of the engines, through the cat flap and out into the garden. Donna knows it will be hours before she ventures back in.
Getting up off the couch, Donna walks up to the TARDIS and then, for no reason that she can quite fathom, around it. She can feel the mind of the TARDIS in hers and, if she didn’t know better, she’d almost think the old girl was giggling.
“Okay, now I’m crazy!” she declares, throwing her arms in the air. “Completely potty, that’s what you are, Donna McAvey. It’s a machine, for Christ’s…”
And the next words die in her throat, because something clicks out from the side of the TARDIS in front of her and falls to the floor. And when she bends down to pick it up, the TARDIS doors swing open and she loses her balance, falling onto the ramp that leads up to the console.
And the doors shut with a loud snap.
“Oh, not again!”
Donna throws herself at the doors and twists the handle, but nothing happens. She fishes the sonic pen out of her pocket and aims, but no matter what setting she uses, nothing works. She looks around, her voice a low growl.
“Doctor, where are you? What are you doing?”
And yet, even as she speaks, she knows she’s alone on the TARDIS. There isn’t a single other living entity on board. So she goes up to the console, puts both hands on it, her fingers curled into fists and glares at the core.
“Well, what is it? You’ve got me here - and I better not be dropped into a bath of Z-neutrinos again!”
She swears that the TARDIS is giggling again, enjoying her discomfort, so she picks up the nearest mallet and whacks the ship with it.
“Stop it!”
And there an instant of silence in the part of her mind that she knows belongs to the ship, rather like that moment when a child freezes in front of you, trying to determine how angry you really are and whether they can keep misbehaving or have to be good.
Donna backs away, dropping the mallet as she goes, and slumps onto the jumpseat. It’s with a sense of irritation that she crosses her arms over her chest and looks around the console room.
“All right, I’m here, which is obviously what you wanted. Want to let me in on the secret of why, or are we going to sit here all day playing games?”
There’s silence from the ship and so Donna turns the screen on the console to face her. It’s clear that they haven’t moved, that the TARDIS is still sitting in the living room, and so she presumes they aren’t about to travel anywhere.
For twenty minutes she paces the console room, getting more and more impatient. She tries the external doors, but they refuse to open. And in the end she goes down into the bowels of the ship, thinking that a cup of tea might be the best way to pass the time.
She stops dead at the head of the corridor, staring at the blank walls that line it, where doors usually stand. There’s only one door, and it’s at the very far end. Even as she looks at it, the door swings open with the faintest creak.
“It would be right at the end,” Donna complains to the TARDIS, but even as she takes a step forward, the hallway seems to compress and she’s standing on the threshold of the room.
“Very nice.”
The ship hums in response to her compliment and she steps inside, seeing a large red chair and a table, sitting in front of a massive screen.
“Hmm, a movie night? Well, okay, if you say so.” She sits down. “Although I could do with something to eat.”
Plates, a jug and a glass materialise on the table and she picks up a biscuit, nibbling the edge.
“Ooh, lovely.” She waves it in the air. “I want the recipe for this!”
And then the lights dim and she settles back to watch the discovery of perhaps the most precious piece of news that she has ever received in her life.
* * *
As soon as she steps out of the doorway and back into the living room, the TARDIS begins to dematerialise and it’s gone before she can turn around.
“Thanks, old girl,” she murmurs to the departing ship. “I’ll see you soon.”
The object that the TARDIS used to distract her is still lying on the floor of the living room and Donna picks it up. With a grin, she unwraps the paper that is around it, and on which she can read the recipe for those biscuits. Sitting on the couch, she puts the paper aside and then begins to leaf through the notebook, seeing that it contains diagrams and drawings of parts of the TARDIS. She reads a bit, here and there, only giving her full attention to the final page before slapping it shut.
She can feel time drawing in and knows that she still has a great deal to do. And when a wave of pain and anguish washes over her, in her mind, but with that slight hint of alien thought that identifies it as coming from the Doctor, she knows what’s needed.
Leaning back against the cushions, she opens her mind to his and waits. Then she sees him, through his eyes, standing at the TARDIS console. He’s staring down at his feet and she can feel the fear he’s experiencing as the full understanding of the planet he has just left, and what it is going to do to him, hits home.
“Stupid,” he growls, but she can feel that it’s so much more than that. Because there’s no more regenerations waiting for him to use. Donna can feel the hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach, as if the world has dropped away.
Yet he doesn’t try to deny it, the way she thought he might. And it’s not because he’s unable to comprehend the full magnitude of what it will mean. He’s been surrounded by death all his life, particularly since the Time Wars, and he knows. He’s frightened, but he certainly isn’t going to try and escape his fate.
He walks around the console, pressing a button here and pulling a level there, trying to make an educated guess at how long he has, and meticulously planning for what is to come. Because this Doctor is far more organised than any of his predecessors. Then he leaves the console room and goes down into the wardrobe room. Takes a hanger off the rack and holds the brand new suit, still in its bag, up against himself. Ten minutes later and he’s changed into it and is doing up the laces on his shoes. Clean teeth, comb through his hair, handkerchief and assorted other things in pockets, and then he’s almost running up through the TARDIS and to the console.
The ship lands and the Doctor casts one final look around the interior before going to the doors and opening them.
He’s outside a house, which would look perfectly normal if the sky wasn’t green. But without hesitation he goes to the door and knocks. And when she answers, he tries to smile like nothing’s wrong.
“Doctor!” River Song smiles back, and then her jaw drops perceptibly. “You… you’ve had a haircut.”
“Oh, don’t say it like I never had one before.”
“Honestly? I’m not sure you ever did.”
He laughs, but it’s an effort. Still, she hasn’t noticed yet, because it’s been such a long time since they’ve seen each other, and beside, he didn’t look or sound like this the last time they met.
“Come with me,” he says, taking her hand. “I’ve got somewhere I want to take you.”
She eyes him up and down. “Obviously somewhere fancy.”
He shrugs. “Might as well make a night of it.”
“Okay.” She beams at him. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Oh, you can have twenty.”
And it does take her twenty minutes, but it’s worth the effort. She’s wearing emerald green, his favourite colour, and the dress sets off her eyes. Her jewellery is simple, just the way he likes it, apart from a green butterfly clip that holds back her curls and the green clutch purse hanging off her wrist on a thin chain. She stops at the top of the stairs and looks down at him with a smile.
“Well?”
“Stunning.”
She smiles in evident satisfaction and then comes down and takes his arm, following him into the TARDIS.
They emerge on a planet in the twilight. She stares around for a moment as the Doctor clicks his fingers to shut the doors of the TARDIS and then turns back to him.
“Where are we?”
“Darillium.” He takes her hand. “You’ll be back here in a few weeks and a couple of thousand years to do some excavating. It won’t look like this, though. Thought you might like to see what you’ll be looking for.”
“Doctor - this is just…”
“No.” He reaches up and places a finger against her lips. “Tonight - because it’s the last time - I’d like you to call me something different.”
And as he leans down to whisper in her ear, she doesn’t notice that he takes advantage of the moment to slide his sonic screwdriver into her purse.
Next chapter: Coming Back
And if you missed the earlier parts:
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII