Of all things | part 8 (final)
Title: Of All Things
Author: Rei
Rating: In-between-teen-and-mature-ish nevermind, it's just teen-ish now.
Warning: The horror miracle of birth, and a little bit of cursing.
Genre: hurt/comfort, angsty-ish, fluffy friendship/romance
Word count: 3817
Summary: He turns his back on her for the slightest moment, and this happens. Ten/Donna
Disclaimer: "does it need saying?" Don't own anything or anyone--except for Mr. Andrew Farrol. but I hate him. so there's no point in owning him. The poor unfortunate destinedtobemad soul.
Like Donna, I just want this over with. It's like a written moodswing, this fanfic!
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Donna lays on her back with the Doctor kneeling beside her, both in a state of panic.
“I hate you,” she huffs as she roughly inhales and exhales. “I really do!”
“I know,” the Doctor says apologetically as he scratches the back of his neck. They’ve been in there for 5 minutes, yet he feels like it’s been forever and he’s on the brink of death.
“Of all things, Doctor,” she hisses. “It’s in an elevator-an elevator! In America-America! What is this, The Nanny Finale?!”
“The what?”
“Nevermind!”
Donna winces as her stomach balls up. She’s uneasy, mostly because of her nervousness, not the labor pains.
“Sometimes I feel like we’re suffering for someone’s entertainment.”
“Now now, Donna, hang on there-help should be on its way alright? You’re definitely not giving birth in a five by five foot elevator, you’re going to get help and you’ll be at the hospital and we’ll have a beautiful baby girl and everything will be okay and we’ll live happily ever after-well not happily ever after since those don’t necessarily exist except in-“
“Doctor!”
“Yes, Donna?”
“Shut-up!”
“Sorry,” he mumbles. He looks at her and sees that she has desperate tears forming in her eyes. He sits closer to her and grabs hold of her hand while his other arm lifts her back up and he gently rubs at it.
“It’s gunna be fine,” he reassures as he blows on her forehead and kisses it. She glances at him with a pained look.
“Oh would you stop that,” she says above a whimper.
“Stop what?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she shakes at his hand. “You’re just being all sweetie stuff with me just to make me feel better.”
The Doctor raises then furrows his brow. “Donna, you’re not making any sense.”
She doesn’t listen to him. “I don’t think you’re making sense-“ another pang hits her and she whimpers and the Doctor grips her hand tighter. “You’re just putting on this big romantic front to make me feel better, aren’t you? You’ve been doing this ever since the incident,” her voice shrinks away because the pain she feels right now reminds her of the pain of that day.
“-And I’ve never said anything about it because it did make me feel better, the thought that maybe it was true made me feel better, loads, but it’s probably all just rubbish-“
“Donna,” the Doctor interrupts her, and he’s overwhelmed by the things she’s telling him.
Donna shuts her eyes in pain and it feels like the Doctor’s hand is about to be ripped off. She’s crying now, of the contractions and hormones and whatever more ran through her mind.
“I see the way you look at me sometimes when I go into fits,” she says, her voice shaky. “You look at me like you want to turn away from me.”
The Doctor laughs. “Donna, the emperor of the Daleks would want to turn away and run from you.” She glares at him and he wipes away his grin.
Donna’s puffs her cheeks in breathing and her face distorted and she mindlessly cries and shakes her heard.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just, I…”
The Doctor wipes the strands of hair plastered on her forehead with her nervous sweat and shushes her. “There’s nothing wrong with you, just don’t think about anything else.”
The floor is terribly uncomfortable, and Donna feels like she’s slept in a bad position for a century. She’s been bleeding for a while now, and it nearly stains the floor but the Doctor sacrifices his coat and puts it under her thighs.
“Doctor,” she cries. “It’s coming! Do you see a head?”
“Nonsense Donna, you only went into labor a while ago.”
“Really? Feels like a day to me!”
“Why does the universe do this to me,” he mutters to himself.
He spends an hour with her in there, and he tries to calm her by massaging the aches in her back. The contractions are getting stronger and Donna starts to yell at the horrible tightening that lasts almost a minute. She warns him when one is coming, and so while one wave of roller-coaster agony comes by, he tries to distract her by singing. His voice is calming and almost relaxes her. He hushes her and rubs at her back gently.
“You’re doing great, Donna,” he says in a light and smooth voice.
“I don’t feel it,” she mutters.
There’s an abrupt shake and suddenly they feel like they’re going up.
The Doctor cheers as he gives a victorious laugh. “Thank you, universe!”
The doors slide open to a man in uniform and a toolbox and a young couple, and they look at the Doctor and Donna with concerned eyes.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said it sounded like someone was giving birth in there,” the young man comments to his young lady.
“You two okay, sir?” The repairman asks, with an accent the Doctor isn’t used to hearing.
“Yes, well, not exactly, you see this lovely lady over here is in labor, and I desperately need help because I am definitely not a gynecologist and I lack the skill of delivering children and if I were, an elevator would not be my ideal place to do the said action, so if you don’t mind…”
Donna screams wretchedly and it echoes, turning the heads of many shoppers.
“Right…” The man digs into his pockets with his gloved hands and pulls out his phone to call an ambulance. The Doctor keeps his place next to Donna and she feels everything go into a big blur and feels immense pressure on her lower abdomen.
The couple lingers by, as if amused, and the young girl says, “I love your accent, by the way.” The boy gives her a look and the Doctor awkwardly averts his gaze.
The ambulance speeds away to the Glendale Adventist hospital, and Donna is too distracted by irritation to notice the bumpy ride. She tries to take deep breaths but she can’t help to feel like shite. The Doctor is silent, touchy to the nerves, trying to think straight.
He was thinking about what she told him in the elevator, and most people would probably shrug that off as the hormones speaking, but he knew Donna. Not even in labor would she say something she didn’t really mean in some way.
She was right, they never really talked about their feelings, they just kind of went in for it. Now that he thinks about it, it only started when he played for her at Luminona. They never went farther than a simple kiss or a light cuddle, but it was still something. He sighs to himself. Ugh.
“Doctor,” she calls to him snaps him out of his gaze. She says nothing more but desperately needs his attention, and he shifts closer to her and grasps at her hand.
“It’s okay, I’m here, just hang on.”
“Like I’m supposed to do anything else,” she scoffs in an exhausted voice, trying so hard to at least quirk her mouth a little as tears fill her eyes and run down to tickle her ears. She’s not sure if she can do this. But right now she’s repeating one sentence in her head like a mantra: I want this baby out.
Another contraction hits and Donna says it all out load, which makes the Doctor laugh in a pitiful way. “Oh, Donna,” he says, not quite wanting to tell her that the baby wasn’t just going to be ready to pop right out once they reached the hospital. “Has your water even broken yet?”
“Shut up,” she snaps, then apologizes.
He begins to sing to her again, and occasionally he rambles and goes on and on. Donna, for the first time, doesn’t mind it. Then he begins to tell her how brilliant she is, how brave and wonderful she is to be going through this. He has a conversation with her that feels awkward because she isn’t talking back.
She’s too focused on bracing herself for the contractions that haven’t even reached their painful peak and trying to stifle the huge discomfort of feeling like she wants to poop. She hated that enough when she had her period, now she had to go through it on a magnified scale.
“I have a sudden burning love for my mum now,” she says raggedly.
“Who wouldn’t.”
Right before reaching the hospital, her water breaks and she feels like she had lost control of her bladder. They roll her stretcher to a room and the doctor tells her that she has to dilate a smidge more to start pushing and she screams because this is going to last so much longer than any masochistic pain-loving freak would want.
“Uuuohff,” Donna groans. She hates life right now. She feels the little one trying to move downwards and she tries with her mind to tell her to hold on before she tears her poor mother open. “Where is the epi-fucking-dural?!”
“Now now Donna, watch your language,” the Doctor says and she tosses him an exasperated glare from hell.
“We’re on it, Ms. Noble,” Dr. Vicman says with her mild Filipino accent. She asks Donna to take a moment to stand up to insert the catheter into her lower back.
After a while Donna starts to feel the pain in her back die down but it was still a living hell everywhere else. Midwife Alba Padron tends to Donna and gives her little cups of water to keep her hydrated. She can’t eat, though, for even thinking of tasting anything makes her want to puke.
“Is it yours?” Alba asks the Doctor and her nervously eyes her and Donna and her belly.
“Yeah,” he says.
Donna starts to reject the water because she’s afraid it all would slip out because her bladder muscle is no longer a voluntary one. The last thing she needs is pee to join the blood flowing out.
She clutches at the Doctor’s hand and there are imprints of her nails all over it from his fingers to his palm. There is not a second where she feels relaxed and she wonders if they should just knock her out and give her the C-section instead.
“Okay, Ms. Noble, you can start pushing any time you’re ready,” Dr. Vicman says and without any hesitation Donna musters up what’s left of her energy to push the baby out.
It was like trying to force a boulder through a crack in the wall. This child was going to make it hard for her, wasn’t she?
“Easy does it, Donna,” the Doctor says in attempt to encourage but she just mindlessly cries a stream of curses.
They tell her to take deep breaths and push and she does what she is told. The Doctor pats her forehead with a napkin, and her face is a bright red and her eyes are screwed shut. She shouts and her voice resounds in the room. She curses those Braxton Hicks that she foolishly didn’t pay much attention to, she curses today, she curses elevators, she curses the absence of sonic screwdrivers, curses America, curses the world, curses time and space, curses the universe, curses every single alien name that she had learned, and curses the Doctor’s existence when he tries to tell her to relax. As if!
Her throat is sore and it doesn’t seem to end. There’s a feeling of burning at the end of each attempt to push, and when she cries that it burns Dr. Vicman encourages to keep going and when Donna hears that it’s what’s supposed to be happening, she goes on.
Donna’s eyes are strained and she so badly wants to release a waterfall of tears but they seem to cling to her eyes.
“Donna-“ the Doctor calls out to her.
“What?!” she wails and she pushes and screams.
“I know it’s a very hard time for you right now-“ he’s interrupted by her screaming. “But if this makes you feel any better at all, and I truly mean this, I’m not saying it just for the sole purpose of making you feel better-“ another shout and a menacing glare from her “-Donna, I love you.”
“Great, I love you too now shut uuuah!” She says sarcastically and tenses as she feels more powerful burning and is on the verge of giving up.
“We see a head, Ms. Noble,” Dr. Vicman informs.
“Alright, Donna, you can do this, you can so do this, come on,” the Doctor encourages as he grips her hand tight and as much as she wants to tell him to shut his flippin’ gob, she pushes with all she’s got along the contractions.
Out, out, out, out, out, she chants inside her mind and soon it makes it out of her mouth in bellows. She doesn’t care anymore; she wants this baby out of her. Never mind the searing bloody pain, as long as it was almost over.
Donna concentrates and with everything she can entirely muster, she gives one hard push and at that moment, after a long and releasing howl, a baby girl is born.
The Doctor’s face lights up and he wears a big elated grin and he shakes at Donna’s hand. “You did it! Ahh! Oh, Donna, you did it!” He cheers and Donna just closes her eyes, exhausted beyond belief.
“You never stay quiet.”
“Neither do you,” he retorts playfully. He wipes away the droplets of sweat on her face and gently cools her down by blowing softly on her forehead, and it relaxes her. He thinks even after going through a boatload of literally blood, sweat and tears, her make-up-less and exhausted face still looks absolutely beautiful.
They hear the baby crying as the Dr. Vicman and Alba clean the blood and vernix off of her.
“Look,” the Doctor has a wondrous smile as they bring the baby girl wrapped in a white and pink blanket towards them.
“Meet your parents,” Alba cheerily says to the baby. Donna struggles to stir and tries to fight her exhaustion as they place the little one in her arms.
“Hello, there,” she says softly as she looks lovingly at her child.
“She looks just like you,” the Doctor comments and Donna rolls her eyes.
“Just because she has a barely visible patch of ginger does not mean the resemblance is precise.”
“Yes it does.”
Donna ignores that. “We never decided on a name.”
“Hmm,” the Doctor thinks as he scratches the back of his neck. “She looks like a... Laura Faith to me.”
Donna slightly cocks an eyebrow at him. “Have you been thinking of names without me? I like that, though… Laura Faith it is.”
“Laura Faith Noble, brilliant.”
Dr. Vicman interrupts their moment by handing the Doctor a pair of scissors to cut the umbilical cord.
“We’re not quite done, Ms. Noble, we still need to expel the placenta, and you’ve got some 2nd degree tears that we have to stitch up,” she informs.
“Oh for the love of….”
Donna is passed out on her hospital bed and recovering from her very strenuous day. Little Laura Faith is resting in an incubator for the time being.
The Doctor creeps in, and Donna stirs.
“Where’ve you been?” Donna’s voice is light and very tired, so much in contrast with her usual booming voice.
“Somewhere,” he says simply and sits on the chair next to her. “How’re you feeling?”
“You’re seriously asking me that question,” she scoffs. “You know I still need to give you a number of good backhanders. It’ll wait til I’m able to, though.”
“You don’t think this is enough?” The Doctor raises his hand. Nail marks are deeply pressed onto his skin, some of them with dried blood.
“Naww, that’s nothing,” Donna teases. “So really, where were you?”
“Well, I was just…” The Doctor tenses up suddenly.
“Are you going to say something or not because I’m on the verge of passing right out.”
“I am, but you see…”
“Out with it, spaceman.”
“Okay, but, I’m not quite good at this, so…” instead of saying any more, the Doctor digs into his pocket and pulls out a silver ring with a bright twinkling blue gem. He just holds in between them as they both stare at it, the Doctor rolling his tongue against his cheek.
“So,” he says as he looks at Donna. “What do you say?”
She’s speechless.
“I know it’s a bit, sudden,” he starts again out of nervousness. “But there isn’t anything about us that isn’t very sudden--”
“Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.” There is a soft smile lingering on her face and she wiggles her left fingers around as her answer.
The Doctor grins and (with a bit of struggle) puts the ring on her finger.
“So that we’re very clear,” he says. “I love you. And I’m so sorry I made you think that I was just toying with you, I really didn’t think that I’d-“
Donna rolls her eyes and sighs as she weakly pulls him to her with his tie and locks lips.
“Dunce.”
------
“Gramps, mum?” Donna calls as she walks through the door.
“Donna!” Wilf hears her from the living room and immediately rushes over as Sylvia turns around from washing dishes.
“There you are,” Sylvia says, ready to lecture about running off without saying bye. “Where’ve you been?”
“Well…” she starts off.
“Have you gained some weight? Blimey, you look like you just had a baby!”
Donna is silent and in perfect timing, the Doctor walks through the door with Laura in his arms.
“Hello, Wilf, Sylvia!”
Donna lays a hand over her face as she looks down and Sylvia and Wilf stare in shock. The Doctor doesn’t catch on the murderous look on Sylvia’s face until a moment later, and he immediately steps back.
“Hold your fire, I’ve got a child!”
The next visit is a less awkward one, but it shakes Donna to the bone.
“You alright?” The Doctor asks Donna, who is abnormally quiet as she carries a fidgety Laura.
“Yeh,” she replies.
“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Noble,” Dr. Leonor says as she leads them into a room. She opens the door and peeks in.
“Andrew? You’ve got visitors.”
Donna and the Doctor walk in and they find Andrew sitting on a stool, staring out the deadlocked windows. He turns around and stares at them.
“We don’t usually allow anyone to see him,” Dr. Leonor says. “I advise you don’t go any farther than a yard.”
They nod and Donna hands Laura to the Doctor who gives her a reassuring look. She takes a deep breath and walks closer to the second man who had flipped her whole life around.
“Hey Andy,” she calls, trying to stifle the mix of fear and sadness and guilt. She finds it so hard to look him in his mad and beaten eyes. She hadn’t seen them the first time, and the last time she did they weren’t so tired and sick of life. They lit in recognition to her, and for a moment she was frightened until she fought that off and stepped closer, towards him.
Dr. Leonor opens her mouth to tell her that she wasn’t supposed to go any closer, but the Doctor tells her that it’s okay, to which she of course protests, but the look on his face shuts her up.
Donna kneels in front of Andrew, she’s looking up at him and he’s looking down at her, gleaming with anger.
Tears form in Donna’s eyes and she struggles to speak. “I’m so sorry,” she snivels, blinking droplets away. “I am so, so sorry.”
Her stares hard at her, rerunning through the painful memory of her leaving him, something he’d forgotten under the trauama until he saw her again that one day and wanted nothing but to show her his suffering.
Donna stares at his hands that are shivering atop his knees. She slowly reaches for them, closing her eyes at the familiar feel for it scares her. When he does nothing in response, she flips his hand around open, and places a small daisy in his hand, the stem still fresh and the petals still vibrant.
There’s a pain in his eyes. He remembers it. He stares down at it and slowly back at Donna, and she can’t read his face. She stands up and turns around, queuing their leave.
Dr. Leonor says nothing as they walk away.
They make a silent walk to the TARDIS, and the Doctor reaches for Donna’s hand with his free one and kisses it, and she leans into him. They go through the TARDIS doors and once they’re inside the Doctor stops in front of Donna and she gives him a curious look.
He turns Laura around so that he carries her to face Donna. “See your mother right there? She’s the bravest woman in the universe.”
Donna shakes her head and smiles as he gives her a consoling hug with the little baby squirming in between them. They laugh and Donna takes Laura from the Doctor as he heads over to the console.
“Easy does it,” he tells the TARDIS. “We’ve got a fragile passenger, remember?” And with that they gently take off into space, the vibration relaxing the child.
Donna takes a seat and the Doctor joins her. She looks into Laura’s light blue eyes and smiles. Nothing in the world is going to ever make her regret keeping this baby. Never mind the millions of diapers, the sleepless nights, and vomit. She is worth the labor, before and after she was born. Everything Donna worried about, everything she was happy about, was replaced by little Laura Faith.
The TARDIS made a hum that was softer than usual, as if singing a lullaby to Laura.
“I see she loves her, too,” the Doctor comments as he looks up at the interior. He puts an arm around Donna as Laura sees him and raises a hand to gently grab his nose.
“This little one can make a cyberman cry,” Donna jokes.
“Not something we’d want to see for ourselves,” the Doctor says slightly nasally.
Laura’s hand releases his nose as she starts to feel drowsy from the TARDIS’s hums. Donna leans her head against the Doctor’s cheek and he kisses the top of her head.
“Where will we take her first?” he asks, but then finds that Donna has dozed asleep as well. He smiles as holds her closer, his other arm helping her support the baby.
They zoom across space like a shooting star, with the knowledge that the good and bad come hand in hand, with the anticipation and fear of the future, with a warmth inside that gives them the courage and a reason to keep going.
The end <3
(poor sleepless daddy)
Author: Rei
Rating: In-between-teen-and-mature-ish nevermind, it's just teen-ish now.
Warning: The horror miracle of birth, and a little bit of cursing.
Genre: hurt/comfort, angsty-ish, fluffy friendship/romance
Word count: 3817
Summary: He turns his back on her for the slightest moment, and this happens. Ten/Donna
Disclaimer: "does it need saying?" Don't own anything or anyone--except for Mr. Andrew Farrol. but I hate him. so there's no point in owning him. The poor unfortunate destinedtobemad soul.
Like Donna, I just want this over with. It's like a written moodswing, this fanfic!
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Donna lays on her back with the Doctor kneeling beside her, both in a state of panic.
“I hate you,” she huffs as she roughly inhales and exhales. “I really do!”
“I know,” the Doctor says apologetically as he scratches the back of his neck. They’ve been in there for 5 minutes, yet he feels like it’s been forever and he’s on the brink of death.
“Of all things, Doctor,” she hisses. “It’s in an elevator-an elevator! In America-America! What is this, The Nanny Finale?!”
“The what?”
“Nevermind!”
Donna winces as her stomach balls up. She’s uneasy, mostly because of her nervousness, not the labor pains.
“Sometimes I feel like we’re suffering for someone’s entertainment.”
“Now now, Donna, hang on there-help should be on its way alright? You’re definitely not giving birth in a five by five foot elevator, you’re going to get help and you’ll be at the hospital and we’ll have a beautiful baby girl and everything will be okay and we’ll live happily ever after-well not happily ever after since those don’t necessarily exist except in-“
“Doctor!”
“Yes, Donna?”
“Shut-up!”
“Sorry,” he mumbles. He looks at her and sees that she has desperate tears forming in her eyes. He sits closer to her and grabs hold of her hand while his other arm lifts her back up and he gently rubs at it.
“It’s gunna be fine,” he reassures as he blows on her forehead and kisses it. She glances at him with a pained look.
“Oh would you stop that,” she says above a whimper.
“Stop what?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she shakes at his hand. “You’re just being all sweetie stuff with me just to make me feel better.”
The Doctor raises then furrows his brow. “Donna, you’re not making any sense.”
She doesn’t listen to him. “I don’t think you’re making sense-“ another pang hits her and she whimpers and the Doctor grips her hand tighter. “You’re just putting on this big romantic front to make me feel better, aren’t you? You’ve been doing this ever since the incident,” her voice shrinks away because the pain she feels right now reminds her of the pain of that day.
“-And I’ve never said anything about it because it did make me feel better, the thought that maybe it was true made me feel better, loads, but it’s probably all just rubbish-“
“Donna,” the Doctor interrupts her, and he’s overwhelmed by the things she’s telling him.
Donna shuts her eyes in pain and it feels like the Doctor’s hand is about to be ripped off. She’s crying now, of the contractions and hormones and whatever more ran through her mind.
“I see the way you look at me sometimes when I go into fits,” she says, her voice shaky. “You look at me like you want to turn away from me.”
The Doctor laughs. “Donna, the emperor of the Daleks would want to turn away and run from you.” She glares at him and he wipes away his grin.
Donna’s puffs her cheeks in breathing and her face distorted and she mindlessly cries and shakes her heard.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just, I…”
The Doctor wipes the strands of hair plastered on her forehead with her nervous sweat and shushes her. “There’s nothing wrong with you, just don’t think about anything else.”
The floor is terribly uncomfortable, and Donna feels like she’s slept in a bad position for a century. She’s been bleeding for a while now, and it nearly stains the floor but the Doctor sacrifices his coat and puts it under her thighs.
“Doctor,” she cries. “It’s coming! Do you see a head?”
“Nonsense Donna, you only went into labor a while ago.”
“Really? Feels like a day to me!”
“Why does the universe do this to me,” he mutters to himself.
He spends an hour with her in there, and he tries to calm her by massaging the aches in her back. The contractions are getting stronger and Donna starts to yell at the horrible tightening that lasts almost a minute. She warns him when one is coming, and so while one wave of roller-coaster agony comes by, he tries to distract her by singing. His voice is calming and almost relaxes her. He hushes her and rubs at her back gently.
“You’re doing great, Donna,” he says in a light and smooth voice.
“I don’t feel it,” she mutters.
There’s an abrupt shake and suddenly they feel like they’re going up.
The Doctor cheers as he gives a victorious laugh. “Thank you, universe!”
The doors slide open to a man in uniform and a toolbox and a young couple, and they look at the Doctor and Donna with concerned eyes.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said it sounded like someone was giving birth in there,” the young man comments to his young lady.
“You two okay, sir?” The repairman asks, with an accent the Doctor isn’t used to hearing.
“Yes, well, not exactly, you see this lovely lady over here is in labor, and I desperately need help because I am definitely not a gynecologist and I lack the skill of delivering children and if I were, an elevator would not be my ideal place to do the said action, so if you don’t mind…”
Donna screams wretchedly and it echoes, turning the heads of many shoppers.
“Right…” The man digs into his pockets with his gloved hands and pulls out his phone to call an ambulance. The Doctor keeps his place next to Donna and she feels everything go into a big blur and feels immense pressure on her lower abdomen.
The couple lingers by, as if amused, and the young girl says, “I love your accent, by the way.” The boy gives her a look and the Doctor awkwardly averts his gaze.
The ambulance speeds away to the Glendale Adventist hospital, and Donna is too distracted by irritation to notice the bumpy ride. She tries to take deep breaths but she can’t help to feel like shite. The Doctor is silent, touchy to the nerves, trying to think straight.
He was thinking about what she told him in the elevator, and most people would probably shrug that off as the hormones speaking, but he knew Donna. Not even in labor would she say something she didn’t really mean in some way.
She was right, they never really talked about their feelings, they just kind of went in for it. Now that he thinks about it, it only started when he played for her at Luminona. They never went farther than a simple kiss or a light cuddle, but it was still something. He sighs to himself. Ugh.
“Doctor,” she calls to him snaps him out of his gaze. She says nothing more but desperately needs his attention, and he shifts closer to her and grasps at her hand.
“It’s okay, I’m here, just hang on.”
“Like I’m supposed to do anything else,” she scoffs in an exhausted voice, trying so hard to at least quirk her mouth a little as tears fill her eyes and run down to tickle her ears. She’s not sure if she can do this. But right now she’s repeating one sentence in her head like a mantra: I want this baby out.
Another contraction hits and Donna says it all out load, which makes the Doctor laugh in a pitiful way. “Oh, Donna,” he says, not quite wanting to tell her that the baby wasn’t just going to be ready to pop right out once they reached the hospital. “Has your water even broken yet?”
“Shut up,” she snaps, then apologizes.
He begins to sing to her again, and occasionally he rambles and goes on and on. Donna, for the first time, doesn’t mind it. Then he begins to tell her how brilliant she is, how brave and wonderful she is to be going through this. He has a conversation with her that feels awkward because she isn’t talking back.
She’s too focused on bracing herself for the contractions that haven’t even reached their painful peak and trying to stifle the huge discomfort of feeling like she wants to poop. She hated that enough when she had her period, now she had to go through it on a magnified scale.
“I have a sudden burning love for my mum now,” she says raggedly.
“Who wouldn’t.”
Right before reaching the hospital, her water breaks and she feels like she had lost control of her bladder. They roll her stretcher to a room and the doctor tells her that she has to dilate a smidge more to start pushing and she screams because this is going to last so much longer than any masochistic pain-loving freak would want.
“Uuuohff,” Donna groans. She hates life right now. She feels the little one trying to move downwards and she tries with her mind to tell her to hold on before she tears her poor mother open. “Where is the epi-fucking-dural?!”
“Now now Donna, watch your language,” the Doctor says and she tosses him an exasperated glare from hell.
“We’re on it, Ms. Noble,” Dr. Vicman says with her mild Filipino accent. She asks Donna to take a moment to stand up to insert the catheter into her lower back.
After a while Donna starts to feel the pain in her back die down but it was still a living hell everywhere else. Midwife Alba Padron tends to Donna and gives her little cups of water to keep her hydrated. She can’t eat, though, for even thinking of tasting anything makes her want to puke.
“Is it yours?” Alba asks the Doctor and her nervously eyes her and Donna and her belly.
“Yeah,” he says.
Donna starts to reject the water because she’s afraid it all would slip out because her bladder muscle is no longer a voluntary one. The last thing she needs is pee to join the blood flowing out.
She clutches at the Doctor’s hand and there are imprints of her nails all over it from his fingers to his palm. There is not a second where she feels relaxed and she wonders if they should just knock her out and give her the C-section instead.
“Okay, Ms. Noble, you can start pushing any time you’re ready,” Dr. Vicman says and without any hesitation Donna musters up what’s left of her energy to push the baby out.
It was like trying to force a boulder through a crack in the wall. This child was going to make it hard for her, wasn’t she?
“Easy does it, Donna,” the Doctor says in attempt to encourage but she just mindlessly cries a stream of curses.
They tell her to take deep breaths and push and she does what she is told. The Doctor pats her forehead with a napkin, and her face is a bright red and her eyes are screwed shut. She shouts and her voice resounds in the room. She curses those Braxton Hicks that she foolishly didn’t pay much attention to, she curses today, she curses elevators, she curses the absence of sonic screwdrivers, curses America, curses the world, curses time and space, curses the universe, curses every single alien name that she had learned, and curses the Doctor’s existence when he tries to tell her to relax. As if!
Her throat is sore and it doesn’t seem to end. There’s a feeling of burning at the end of each attempt to push, and when she cries that it burns Dr. Vicman encourages to keep going and when Donna hears that it’s what’s supposed to be happening, she goes on.
Donna’s eyes are strained and she so badly wants to release a waterfall of tears but they seem to cling to her eyes.
“Donna-“ the Doctor calls out to her.
“What?!” she wails and she pushes and screams.
“I know it’s a very hard time for you right now-“ he’s interrupted by her screaming. “But if this makes you feel any better at all, and I truly mean this, I’m not saying it just for the sole purpose of making you feel better-“ another shout and a menacing glare from her “-Donna, I love you.”
“Great, I love you too now shut uuuah!” She says sarcastically and tenses as she feels more powerful burning and is on the verge of giving up.
“We see a head, Ms. Noble,” Dr. Vicman informs.
“Alright, Donna, you can do this, you can so do this, come on,” the Doctor encourages as he grips her hand tight and as much as she wants to tell him to shut his flippin’ gob, she pushes with all she’s got along the contractions.
Out, out, out, out, out, she chants inside her mind and soon it makes it out of her mouth in bellows. She doesn’t care anymore; she wants this baby out of her. Never mind the searing bloody pain, as long as it was almost over.
Donna concentrates and with everything she can entirely muster, she gives one hard push and at that moment, after a long and releasing howl, a baby girl is born.
The Doctor’s face lights up and he wears a big elated grin and he shakes at Donna’s hand. “You did it! Ahh! Oh, Donna, you did it!” He cheers and Donna just closes her eyes, exhausted beyond belief.
“You never stay quiet.”
“Neither do you,” he retorts playfully. He wipes away the droplets of sweat on her face and gently cools her down by blowing softly on her forehead, and it relaxes her. He thinks even after going through a boatload of literally blood, sweat and tears, her make-up-less and exhausted face still looks absolutely beautiful.
They hear the baby crying as the Dr. Vicman and Alba clean the blood and vernix off of her.
“Look,” the Doctor has a wondrous smile as they bring the baby girl wrapped in a white and pink blanket towards them.
“Meet your parents,” Alba cheerily says to the baby. Donna struggles to stir and tries to fight her exhaustion as they place the little one in her arms.
“Hello, there,” she says softly as she looks lovingly at her child.
“She looks just like you,” the Doctor comments and Donna rolls her eyes.
“Just because she has a barely visible patch of ginger does not mean the resemblance is precise.”
“Yes it does.”
Donna ignores that. “We never decided on a name.”
“Hmm,” the Doctor thinks as he scratches the back of his neck. “She looks like a... Laura Faith to me.”
Donna slightly cocks an eyebrow at him. “Have you been thinking of names without me? I like that, though… Laura Faith it is.”
“Laura Faith Noble, brilliant.”
Dr. Vicman interrupts their moment by handing the Doctor a pair of scissors to cut the umbilical cord.
“We’re not quite done, Ms. Noble, we still need to expel the placenta, and you’ve got some 2nd degree tears that we have to stitch up,” she informs.
“Oh for the love of….”
Donna is passed out on her hospital bed and recovering from her very strenuous day. Little Laura Faith is resting in an incubator for the time being.
The Doctor creeps in, and Donna stirs.
“Where’ve you been?” Donna’s voice is light and very tired, so much in contrast with her usual booming voice.
“Somewhere,” he says simply and sits on the chair next to her. “How’re you feeling?”
“You’re seriously asking me that question,” she scoffs. “You know I still need to give you a number of good backhanders. It’ll wait til I’m able to, though.”
“You don’t think this is enough?” The Doctor raises his hand. Nail marks are deeply pressed onto his skin, some of them with dried blood.
“Naww, that’s nothing,” Donna teases. “So really, where were you?”
“Well, I was just…” The Doctor tenses up suddenly.
“Are you going to say something or not because I’m on the verge of passing right out.”
“I am, but you see…”
“Out with it, spaceman.”
“Okay, but, I’m not quite good at this, so…” instead of saying any more, the Doctor digs into his pocket and pulls out a silver ring with a bright twinkling blue gem. He just holds in between them as they both stare at it, the Doctor rolling his tongue against his cheek.
“So,” he says as he looks at Donna. “What do you say?”
She’s speechless.
“I know it’s a bit, sudden,” he starts again out of nervousness. “But there isn’t anything about us that isn’t very sudden--”
“Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.” There is a soft smile lingering on her face and she wiggles her left fingers around as her answer.
The Doctor grins and (with a bit of struggle) puts the ring on her finger.
“So that we’re very clear,” he says. “I love you. And I’m so sorry I made you think that I was just toying with you, I really didn’t think that I’d-“
Donna rolls her eyes and sighs as she weakly pulls him to her with his tie and locks lips.
“Dunce.”
------
“Gramps, mum?” Donna calls as she walks through the door.
“Donna!” Wilf hears her from the living room and immediately rushes over as Sylvia turns around from washing dishes.
“There you are,” Sylvia says, ready to lecture about running off without saying bye. “Where’ve you been?”
“Well…” she starts off.
“Have you gained some weight? Blimey, you look like you just had a baby!”
Donna is silent and in perfect timing, the Doctor walks through the door with Laura in his arms.
“Hello, Wilf, Sylvia!”
Donna lays a hand over her face as she looks down and Sylvia and Wilf stare in shock. The Doctor doesn’t catch on the murderous look on Sylvia’s face until a moment later, and he immediately steps back.
“Hold your fire, I’ve got a child!”
The next visit is a less awkward one, but it shakes Donna to the bone.
“You alright?” The Doctor asks Donna, who is abnormally quiet as she carries a fidgety Laura.
“Yeh,” she replies.
“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Noble,” Dr. Leonor says as she leads them into a room. She opens the door and peeks in.
“Andrew? You’ve got visitors.”
Donna and the Doctor walk in and they find Andrew sitting on a stool, staring out the deadlocked windows. He turns around and stares at them.
“We don’t usually allow anyone to see him,” Dr. Leonor says. “I advise you don’t go any farther than a yard.”
They nod and Donna hands Laura to the Doctor who gives her a reassuring look. She takes a deep breath and walks closer to the second man who had flipped her whole life around.
“Hey Andy,” she calls, trying to stifle the mix of fear and sadness and guilt. She finds it so hard to look him in his mad and beaten eyes. She hadn’t seen them the first time, and the last time she did they weren’t so tired and sick of life. They lit in recognition to her, and for a moment she was frightened until she fought that off and stepped closer, towards him.
Dr. Leonor opens her mouth to tell her that she wasn’t supposed to go any closer, but the Doctor tells her that it’s okay, to which she of course protests, but the look on his face shuts her up.
Donna kneels in front of Andrew, she’s looking up at him and he’s looking down at her, gleaming with anger.
Tears form in Donna’s eyes and she struggles to speak. “I’m so sorry,” she snivels, blinking droplets away. “I am so, so sorry.”
Her stares hard at her, rerunning through the painful memory of her leaving him, something he’d forgotten under the trauama until he saw her again that one day and wanted nothing but to show her his suffering.
Donna stares at his hands that are shivering atop his knees. She slowly reaches for them, closing her eyes at the familiar feel for it scares her. When he does nothing in response, she flips his hand around open, and places a small daisy in his hand, the stem still fresh and the petals still vibrant.
There’s a pain in his eyes. He remembers it. He stares down at it and slowly back at Donna, and she can’t read his face. She stands up and turns around, queuing their leave.
Dr. Leonor says nothing as they walk away.
They make a silent walk to the TARDIS, and the Doctor reaches for Donna’s hand with his free one and kisses it, and she leans into him. They go through the TARDIS doors and once they’re inside the Doctor stops in front of Donna and she gives him a curious look.
He turns Laura around so that he carries her to face Donna. “See your mother right there? She’s the bravest woman in the universe.”
Donna shakes her head and smiles as he gives her a consoling hug with the little baby squirming in between them. They laugh and Donna takes Laura from the Doctor as he heads over to the console.
“Easy does it,” he tells the TARDIS. “We’ve got a fragile passenger, remember?” And with that they gently take off into space, the vibration relaxing the child.
Donna takes a seat and the Doctor joins her. She looks into Laura’s light blue eyes and smiles. Nothing in the world is going to ever make her regret keeping this baby. Never mind the millions of diapers, the sleepless nights, and vomit. She is worth the labor, before and after she was born. Everything Donna worried about, everything she was happy about, was replaced by little Laura Faith.
The TARDIS made a hum that was softer than usual, as if singing a lullaby to Laura.
“I see she loves her, too,” the Doctor comments as he looks up at the interior. He puts an arm around Donna as Laura sees him and raises a hand to gently grab his nose.
“This little one can make a cyberman cry,” Donna jokes.
“Not something we’d want to see for ourselves,” the Doctor says slightly nasally.
Laura’s hand releases his nose as she starts to feel drowsy from the TARDIS’s hums. Donna leans her head against the Doctor’s cheek and he kisses the top of her head.
“Where will we take her first?” he asks, but then finds that Donna has dozed asleep as well. He smiles as holds her closer, his other arm helping her support the baby.
They zoom across space like a shooting star, with the knowledge that the good and bad come hand in hand, with the anticipation and fear of the future, with a warmth inside that gives them the courage and a reason to keep going.
The end <3
(poor sleepless daddy)