Centurion: 2009

Apr 23, 2012 00:33



2009 - Donna Noble

Donna stumbled into the kitchen and ripped open the door to the fridge. Its contents did not please her. She glared at the nearly empty carton of milk; maybe enough for a small bowl of cereal, but then there'd be none for tomorrow morning and that would be even worse. Stupid milk.

"Don't just leave the door open." Sylvia glared at her daughter on her way to the sink.

"I'm still looking," Donna snarled back. She grabbed the milk and chugged the last of it straight from the carton. Her mother scowled.

"Did you fill up the car?"

"No, I forgot."

Sylvia had a talent for silent glares that conveyed complete and utter disapproval. As if Donna had gone out of her way to not fill up the tank with petrol just to spite her. And her lips were pursed tight, which signaled that very shortly there would be an outpouring of all of the ways in which Donna had ever failed her.

Can't keep a job. Finds a job and quits it. Gets engaged. Throws a wedding. Misses the wedding and won't explain why. Spends every day driving around with the boot filled with clothes, aimlessly driving, never going anywhere, ruining her life.

Donna'd heard it all before. She shut the fridge and walked back out into the hall before it could start.

"Where's Granddad? I want to talk to him."

"What are you talking about?" Sylvia asked, exasperated and obviously annoyed with being denied her sermon.

"You know, your father? Silly old doof with a telescope? Where's he wandered off to?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Donna, I haven't got a father."

"Whatever he's done this time, just because you've disowned him again doesn't mean I'm about to."

"Stop spouting nonsense, Donna! Look at you, coming home at all hours, acting so high and mighty even though you can't even hold a job, wasting money and time driving around and then making up stories -"

"Whatever! Don't tell me!" Donna shouted. She grabbed her coat and slung it over her shoulders. "I'll go find him myself."

She slammed the door on her mother's shouting and stomped outside. It was bloody freezing, of course, but she wasn't going back in to get her gloves. She would not give her mother the satisfaction.

Her whole life had been such a mess lately; not because of the things her mother was saying, though she wasn't particularly proud of those either, but because of an awful feeling that she was missing something. Donna was just so sick of her life, flying from job to job. She wanted to travel, to see amazing things and be someone.

Sometimes she thought she really could be somebody. She could help people. Fight for freedom. Save lives. Protect people. Save the world. Who knows? The sky was the limit.

She stared up at the sky, black and grey and empty and horrible and it crushed her. Who was she kidding? She was nobody. She would never be anybody. No kind of hero. Not a traveler or a songwriter or a doctor. Just Donna Noble, unemployed.

She shook her head and resumed her walk, giving up the stomp for a listless dragging of her feet.

She dragged them up the hill to Wilfred's usual 'stargazing' spot. Crazy as he was, Donna loved her old granddad. He was all optimism and cheer, and that was the only thing that could pull her out of her funks. He'd tell her stories of heroes, ordinary people who became amazing. Sometimes they'd both just sit there, on the hill. Wilf liked to look up at the sky, even though there was nothing to see but the moon and clouds. He'd direct his little telescope up and stare into the darkness for a flicker of light. Donna preferred to point it at the lights of the city. At least that was something to look at.

The telescope was set up with the blanket, as always, but there was nobody in sight.

"Granddad?" Donna called. "Hellooooo, Granddad, where are you?"

No answer.

She sighed and sat down on the grass, gazing angrily at the telescope. There were no stars to look at, everyone knew that. But she'd still wanted to hear her grandfather talk about them. Now he wasn't here either.

The telescope wasn't pointed at the sky, she realized. It was angled low, towards the bottom of the hill.

Donna frowned and got to her feet. She could see, off in the distance, a flicker of bright white light.

It was clearer through the telescope. A small jagged line of light, peeking through the short grass at the base of the hill.

Up close, it wasn't so small. It lay on the ground, harmless looking, except for the bright glow. Long strings of golden light drifted out from it.

Donna kept her distance.

"What the hell is this?" she shouted at nobody in particular. "This is bloody ridiculous."

The crack didn't answer.

"Granddad?" she called again. "Are you down here? What the hell is this thing?"

Still nothing.

Donna glared at the crack. Stupid thing. Wild goose chase. Wilfred wasn't here either. It just served to remind her of all the things going wrong.

The crack glowed like starlight.

There were no stars, but Donna knew starlight when she saw it. And, come to think of it, her granddad probably did too. He was the one who told her about such things. About stars and legends and magic boxes. He took her to all those places as a kid, museums and the like, and they'd look at all the strange things in the world. Someone once told him to look out for cracks in the universe and he'd laughed like that was the most brilliant thing he'd ever heard.

He'd never have been able to resist one when he found it.

Donna glanced behind her, at the bright city. Windows flickered exactly like the night sky didn't.

She glowered back at the crack, which shimmered.

"This is all a load of bollocks," she told it firmly. "Stars don't exist and you don't either."

It flickered with the light of a million stars.

"Hmph," she said. "Fine then. Whatever. I don't care what you are, but you're wrong. You're just a field of time energy caused by two bits of space-time that shouldn't touch. You'd close with just a complex space-time event to consume!"

Nothing.

"Fine," she spat, and stomped over to it, filled again with that righteous anger against the world. Only this time, she felt a thrill of excitement down her back. For the first time in years, Donna Noble felt right.

"I've been wanting an adventure anyway."

The next morning, Sylvia Noble had no milk for her cereal, and when she went to buy more, the car was out of petrol. She raged and glowered, but she had nobody to blame but herself.

Chapters:

Prologue: 102 - An Auton
1941 - The Lone Centurion
1977 - A Security Guard
1981 - Security
2007 - Luke Smith
2008 - Gwen Cooper
2009 - Donna Noble
1996 - Rory Williams
Epilogues

writing, doctor who, fanfic

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