Doors We Never Opened: Chapter 3
Title: Doors We Never Opened
Author: the_magpye
Rating: All ages
A/N: This started out as a oneshot, grew into a large oneshot, and then a slightly massive oneshot. So, it became chapters. Probably four or five, but that's a rough estimate. I have to send out apologies to momdaegmorgan for this being so late - belated Christmas wishes from me, Mrs Jenny! *hugs* But I hope you enjoy it, and fills the time before you start writing again - you know I have every confidence in you! ^.~ Thanks to rachelbeann for the advice! Feedback is much appreciated and earns hugs, especially since I've been impatient and not had this beta'd. ^^
Summary: Life went on, and on, and on, and Donna didn't notice its passing - mainly because she didn't have a job - a fact which her mum kindly reiterated to her in every other sentence she spoke, whether it be blatant or veiled with a dash of sarcasm. But when an opportunity comes along, she doesn't hesitate to grab it with both hands. Who knows where it could lead her...
Just to make it clear; THIS IS POST!S4, IN THE DOCTOR'S UNIVERSE.
May or may not be an update tomorrow, depending on how much I get done tonight. Also, updates will probably slow down from now on. Work's picking up. D:
'Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden.' - T.S Eliot
&& PREVIOUS &&
'You can close your eyes to reality, but not to memories.' - Stanislaw Lec
Dropping her car keys in the bowl on the dresser, Donna shut the door and counted to three in her head.
'One... two... three... and...'
"Donna! Oi, Sylvia, Donna's back! How was it, darlin'? Have much work to do? Your boss a good'un or is he one of these arrogant city-types? Oh, I remember-"
She thought it best to interrupt her granddad, otherwise there was the risk of them being stood there until it was time for her to go to work again, and Donna knew she was useless at brewing coffee when she was tired.
"It was great, Gramps - office was beautiful, nice building, not too much work..."
She rambled on, hoping to keep him enraptured long enough to somehow answer all his questions before he even had to ask them. From the corner of her eye, she spotted her mum descending the stairs. Great.
"... my boss is a nice one, not a guy, so you'll be hearing no more complaints from me about hormonal middle aged men." Wilf was grinning at her now, still listening intently while leaning on the dresser.
"Her name's Rose, Rose Tyler - I never expected such a young woman to be a company executive but-"
"... Rose... Tyler?"
Donna glanced up, frowning at her mum, who was looking at her as if she'd suddenly sprouted a third head. She sounded surprised, and from the corner of her eye she could see that her granddad had gone shockingly pale.
"Yeah..." she dragged it out. "Why, d'you know her? Blonde hair, shoulder length, brown eyes...?"
Wilf was now the colour of parchment, the normal ruddy shade missing from his cheeks. Donna, worried, was about to ask if he wanted to sit down but she was stopped in her tracks by Sylvia. Her mum had an unerring habit of blocking her plans.
"Yes, I think I've heard her name before. Not sure where from, maybe we met at one of those charity do's your dad used to take me to for business... did you say she's quite young?"
Her voice was overly casual, and for the second time that day, Donna felt suspicious. She answered nonetheless.
"Yeah, about twenty-ish or something - gramps, you all right? You look really pale, I think you should sit down..."
Wilf smiled weakly, answering with a rusty chuckle.
"...N-nah, I'm fine. 'Bin feelin' a bit off all day, must've been last night's dinner - 'chicken surprise' don't agree with my stomach."
Donna was expecting some sort of snide comment from her mum in response, but when she looked over, Sylvia was drifting into the kitchen, dream-like and looking more than a little shell-shocked.
Her granddad was talking again, a little stilted but filling the silence that would inevitably descend after that moment of general weirdness. But still, Donna had the definite feeling that something was off.
After all, why would her family act so strangely? Her mum could've said straightaway that she knew Rose from somewhere instead of making such a big deal. And how Wilf had suddenly gone from laughing and grinning to looking like he'd been slapped in the face... it was all very odd.
Not liking it, Donna threw a distantly fond smile at her granddad, resting a hand on his shoulder before heading for the stairs.
"Just going to go and have a rest, Gramps. It's been a long day."
"All right sweetheart, you deserve it. Told you you'd show 'em who was boss!"
The stairs creaked beneath the weight of her feet, and when she got to the top and into the hall, Donna peered back over the rail to see if her granddad was still there. He was, and looking at the place she had just vacated with the same pained look that had been on Rose's face earlier - in fact, nearly identical, except with a few more added wrinkles. He stood there for a while, before sighing and wandering slowly into the kitchen after Sylvia.
Thoroughly confused, she went to her room, and hoped that her family sorted themselves out before dinner. It wasn't normal, and Donna Noble didn't like things that weren't normal. Her life was set out in front of her now, and she didn't need odd behaviour from her mum and granddad to muddle it up and make her worry.
No. She didn't, at all.
&&&
Dinner passed, thankfully, without incident. No more signs of weird behaviour; her granddad was back to his usual cheerful self, and her mum was still making catty comments about the neighbours new pagoda being too ugly to be in the same street as them, let alone next door.
Though she normally resented it, Donna relaxed and enjoyed the familiarity after her long (and strange) day.
However, her day wasn't over yet, and little did she know that another dose of strangeness would be coming her way rather sooner than expected.
It was later, and Donna was still awake, watching the stars glimmering outside her window. She could picture her granddad up the hill, drinking coffee from a Thermos and fiddling around with his telescope. It was a clear night, perfect for sitting back and watching the moon move across the sky, and the planets spin...
She had no idea why she was suddenly coming across all poetic. Must be a side effect of the weird day, she decided, and went to get her coat. Some quality time with her granddad on the hill couldn't do her any harm, and he probably needed another scarf or something.
It had nothing to do with reassuring herself that he was still good old Gramps with a smile and story for everyone, and not the tired man she'd seen at the bottom of the stairs a matter of hours ago.
No. Of course it didn't.
Regardless of her motivation, Donna shouted to her mum that she was going up the hill, and shut the door without waiting for an answer. The trek to her destination was cold. Very cold, considering it was only September. She pulled up her furry hood within thirty seconds of leaving the house, shoving her hands in her pockets and watching her breath mist in the night air.
Bloody winter. It never seemed to go away.
Tarmac and concrete soon turned to grass, and everything was quiet except for the crunch of her shoes against the soil. She was going to ignore the huff and puff of her laboured breathing, just like she usually ignored the gym membership card sat on the side in the kitchen. Selective hearing really was a blessing.
The silence was broken as she picked her way across the allotments. Voices were coming from over the rise, the place where her granddad set up his telescope every night. Mr. Neighbour-with-the-ugly-pagoda lost a large cabbage, apropos of Donna's foot, when she realised who was speaking.
What the hell was her mum doing up here?!? She hardly ever came up the hill, full of disdain for Wilf's hobby and infinitely preferring the warmth of her kitchen to a bloody freezing lump of earth.
"I'm telling you, Dad, I don't want her getting involved with all that... all that stuff again! You know what he said, what'll happen if she remembers!"
The silence was heavy, and quieter as Donna got her breath back. Her body refused to move; she felt bad about eavesdropping, but it looked like she was going to get some answers for what happened earlier. So she stood still, and listened.
Her granddad's voice was stubborn, and she smiled faintly, acknowledging where her own strong will had come from.
"I know that, Sylvia, but don't you think she really deserves to know? Don't you remember how happy she was, how much... how much better?"
Happy? Better?
Her mum made an inarticulate angry noise, a bit like the neighbour's cat when it rained.
"It isn't a matter of whether she deserves to know, Dad. She can't. End of story. Just because this woman, this Rose, could be the same one that saved us from that... that metal thing in the street, it doesn't change the consequences. He did enough damage, and this just proves it."
Gramps sighed heavily, and a few long moments passed.
"He did no such thing. And just because I can't change it doesn't mean I like it... even you should feel like that."
There was quiet again, and then a soft, defeated exhale from one or the other, or both.
"I know, Dad. I know."
Donna wasn't going to listen to any more of this, and left as quickly and quietly as she could, pieces of the neighbour's destroyed cabbage trailing behind her. When she got back to the house, she mechanically removed the strands of squashed vegetable, chucked them in the bin, and calmly went up to her room, shutting the door behind her.
...
"What. On. EARTH. was that all about?!?"
And there she went; Donna Noble, shouting at the world, even if it wasn't listening.
&&&
Breakfast was quiet the next morning.
Donna was debating fiercely whether to confront her family about what she'd heard. On the one hand, she was so ridiculously confused (and slightly worried that her mum and granddad had gone totally MAD), but on the other...
She was intrigued.
And she had an awful headache. Like a hangover, but worse.
She picked up some painkillers, went to work, mulled over it all day, and eventually came to a decision. Her dad had always told her not to eavesdrop, and if her family had lost their minds, then she wasn't going to push them any further towards utter insanity.
That was what she told herself, anyway.
But really, she was still trying to preserve her normality - Donna was happier than she had been for a while; she had a proper job, her mum was nagging her less... she didn't want her world to be thrown off kilter just because of some weird family secret. Because a skeleton in the closet was the only rational explanation that she could think of, disregarding aliens and conspiracy theories. She really wouldn't be surprised if one of her aunts turned out to be a mad axe murderer, especially if she was on her mother's side...
Plus, she wasn't going to ask Rose if she'd somehow met her mum and granddad in circumstances that didn't involve a charity ball. She could picture how that conversation would go: "Oh, morning, Rose - look, did you happen to save my family from a metal thing in our street one day? It's just that they're keeping something from me and I was wondering if you could let me know whether they're actually telling the truth so I can decide if I'm losing my mind?"
Somehow, the possibility of being sectioned by her boss was less than appealing.
And so, Donna's rationality won over her interest, and life went on as normal, with no discussion of hidden secrets or conversations overheard beneath the stars.
&& NEXT &&