Fic: Starting Over 4/5? (Donna, Martha, Jack, Ten) [PG]
Title: Starting Over (4/5?)
Author: hence-the-name
Characters Donna, Jack, Martha, Ten
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Rating: PG
Beta: nightrider101
Spoilers: All of New Who and Torchwood. Takes place after Journey’s End.
Summary: The TARDIS lands in Cardiff with a mysteriously ill Doctor on board.
A/N: Many thanks for everyone's patience while I worked on this!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The first time Donna heard someone call her name she barely registered it. It was a Friday afternoon and she was walking through Chiswick House Park on her way home from work, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine on her shoulders and feeling, all in all, more normal than she had in weeks. Her boss and coworkers had finally stopped behaving around her as if they were afraid she might collapse in seizures at any second, and just this morning Ms. Crowell had offered her a full-time, salaried position and title of Personal Assistant.
Donna grimaced to herself, kicking at the pavement. Ms. Crowell’s former PA was a friend of her mum’s who had decided she was ready to retire; Donna had only gotten the job as a favor to her, to fill in until they could make a permanent hire, though it was all down to her that she had impressed Ms. Crowell enough to get the job. She should have been happy, really, especially under the circumstances. Two years of intermittent employment could be explained away by the illness that had left gaping holes in her memory, but it didn’t exactly make her the most desirable job candidate, even if she had made a full recovery. Well, nearly; there had been a specialist, apparently; a doctor who had assured her mum and granddad that she would be fine, though large chunks of the last two years would always be missing from her memories-including, it seemed, the doctor himself.
They were keeping something from her, Donna knew. She had picked it up in Egypt, Mum said, but there were holes in Donna’s memory from before that, ever since the wedding and Lance’s death. She had a feeling they were trying to protect her from something, and after a while Donna had stopped pushing and just tried to get on with things, though if she was being honest the hardest thing wasn’t that her mum was keeping secrets from her; it was Granddad. He knew whatever it was Mum knew, and while it had made her suddenly and strangely protective of Donna, it had made him more distant. Not that they weren’t still close, but they were no longer co-conspirators. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he looked at her like his heart might break; and when Donna went up the hill with him at night, he always stayed out after she went in, instead of joining her for a cuppa before bed as he used to do.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the melancholy that had descended over her. She was doing rather well, considering everything. P.A. She would have killed for that title a few years ago. So why did she feel so empty?
“Donna!” The voice finally broke through her reverie and she paused and turned, realizing that she had heard her name shouted several times. The park was crowded, but it would have been difficult to miss the tall man jogging toward her: He looked like he’d just stepped off a movie set, in an old fashioned military coat that flew out behind him, chiseled features, and too-perfect hair.
“Donna,” he said again when he reached her, his accent flattening her name, not unpleasantly. He didn’t seem winded but his voice sounded breathless just the same, with...relief? “I’ve been looking all over-” He broke off. For a moment he just stared at her. She stared back, not sure if she should stay and talk or turn and run away. Relief on his face turned to dismay. “Oh, no. Not you, too.”
Donna blinked. “Not me too what?” she asked. “And who the hell are you?”
Instead of answering, he grabbed hold of her wrist. “Oi!” Donna cried, trying unsuccessfully to free herself. He ignored her.
With his other hand he touched a tiny Bluetooth device in his ear and said, “Martha?...Yeah, I found her. There’s just one problem.” He looked at Donna, frustration evident on his face. “She has amnesia, too.”
Donna stopped struggling and stared. She felt the color drain from her face. Her own breath sounded loud in her ears. For a moment she thought she was going to faint. “What?” she whispered. “How do you know about that?”
But he was still talking on his headset. “No...I don’t know.” His expression shifted from frustration to worry. “How is he?” he asked. He listened for another moment, looking more and more worried. Finally he said, “No, we’re on our way. Just sit tight.” He touched the earpiece again. “I need you to come with me,” he said to Donna, and without waiting for her to answer he started walking, pulling her along.
“Hold on a minute.” Donna yanked her wrist from his hand and stopped walking. He took a few more steps before he spun to face her, his coat flaring out and a scowl on his face. He had the look of someone used to getting his way, but Donna wasn’t intimidated by his pretty face or by his coat. She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s going on. Who are you?”
The man took a deep breath and looked skyward for a moment, as if he were willing himself to patience. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he said, when he looked back at her. “And you’re Donna Noble.”
Donna’s heart began to pound. “I know you.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what happened to me?”
He shook his head. “No.” Belatedly, his expression turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
Donna swallowed hard. “But-”
“Donna.” He closed the space between them and looked down at her. Donna could see a light of desperation in his eyes. “My friend is sick,” he said. “And I know you don’t remember him, but he’s your friend, too. He asked me to come find you.”
Donna’s mind raced. A part of her, a cynical, wounded part that had been hurt too many times, warned her to be careful; but something about Captain Jack Harkness tickled the back of her mind and moved her trust him. This was just the sort of thing she had been dreading. What had she done during those two years? Who had she met? Who had she grown so close to that he would ask for her when he was, if Jack’s face was any indication, gravely ill?
Jack’s hand closed around hers, more gently this time. “Will you come with me?” he asked.
Donna opened her mouth to answer and then closed it. She nodded and started walking, letting Jack guide them. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and Donna felt rather than saw some of the tension drain from his shoulders. He squeezed her hand in thanks.
“How do I know him?” Donna asked after a moment, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.
“You met at your wedding,” he said. “Your fiancé was...” he trailed off, frowning. “It’s sort of a long story, actually,” he said instead, glancing at her as if he wasn’t sure he should go on. Before she could press him, he stopped walking and dropped her hand so he could reach in his pocket. “Here we are.”
Donna looked around, surprised. She had expected for him to take her to his car and then to the hospital; instead they were standing in front of an old-fashioned phone box in a secluded area of the park. Jack withdrew a key from his pocket and slipped it into the lock. She took a step back, suddenly suspicious.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. “Is this some sort of a joke? Because if it is-” She glanced over her shoulder.
“It’s not a joke, Donna.” Jack pushed the door open and caught hold of her elbow with an implacable grip, pushing her toward the entrance. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Donna’s jaw dropped. She felt the blood rushing in her ears and a sudden pounding in her head as she took in the enormous space. She tried to step back outside but Jack was behind her, propelling her forward. “It’s bigger on the inside,” he said. “We really don’t have time for this.” And he led her through the domed room with its deep, pulsing thrum, skirting the central column and then down the opposite ramp, through another doorway, across a hall and into a large, bright infirmary.
A woman leapt up from the stool she had been sitting on and hurried toward them, hesitating when she drew close, watching Donna warily. Martha, Jack had called her on the phone. Donna wondered if she knew her, too.
“How is he?” Jack asked.
Martha shook her head, grimacing. “No worse, but no better, either.” She glanced at Donna. “Is she-?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.
Martha sighed, looking helpless. “I don’t know what to do, Jack.” She looked over her shoulder, toward the bed at the far end of the room. “I can try to keep him comfortable, but...” she trailed off.
Jack squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. He didn’t sound convinced.
Donna barely heard them. Her eyes were fixed on the far end of the room, where Martha had been sitting when they came in. A man lay in the bed beneath a silvery blanket, breathing raggedly. Several monitors blinked on the wall above him. He stirred and fretted in his sleep. Donna took a few steps toward him. There was something familiar about him. She frowned, trying to think past the pounding in her head, and had a sudden flash of memory, of him standing awkwardly in the lounge at her mother’s house and offering her his hand to shake.
“John Smith,” she said aloud, and then gave her head a shake. That wasn’t right. She took a few steps toward him.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“We don’t know,” Martha said.
“We were sort of hoping you could help us with that,” Jack added.
“Me?” Donna turned back toward him. Everything felt slow and dreamlike. “What could I do? I’m just a secretary.”
Martha came to stand beside her. “You’re a lot more than that,” she said.
She shook her head, feeling strange. “He’s not even human. He’s probably got-two hearts, or something.”
“What did you say?”
Donna didn’t answer. She crossed the room in a daze and knelt beside him, clasping his arm through the fabric of the blanket. It felt smooth and cool against her palms. She knew him. That tickle of recognition she had felt with Jack felt like a roar in her head when she looked at him, as if her whole being were responding to his presence. He stirred and fretted in his sleep.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Doctor,” Martha replied.
Another time she might have scoffed, but she only nodded, turned back toward him and repeated it, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.
He stirred again and turn his head toward her, his eyes fluttering open. She thought she saw a smile touch his lips. “Donna.” It was barely a whisper.
“Yeah.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm, wishing desperately that she remembered him, that she could offer some greater comfort. “I’m here.”
He drew another breath, looking as though he were trying to say something else, but a shudder ran through him and he squeezed his eyes shut, moaning in pain. He relaxed slowly, trailing off into whimpers. Donna reached up and smoothed his hair.
“Shh,” she soothed. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”
The moment she touched him, he began to glow.
Donna jerked her hand back. The glow intensified, surrounding the two of them and blocking out the rest of the room. He drew a deep, gasping breath, his eyes opening wide. For a moment he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Then he pushed himself up onto one elbow and turned to her. “Donna.” He spoke in a clear, bright tenor that sounded deeply, painfully familiar to her. He smiled. She gaped at him.
“Doctor?” she stammered.
He sat up, swinging his feet around, and took her hands in his. The glow spread to her, creeping up her arms to her shoulders and enveloping her. Donna felt a pleasant buzz deep in her throat, spreading out along her spine and lodging in her brain. She looked down at herself. She was glowing, now. “What’s happening?” she whispered.
He smiled again, wider this time, and let out a relieved, delighted laugh. “You’re regenerating.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hands. “But you will.”
The light surrounding them grew brighter, and with it the resonance in Donna’s bones, deepening to the point of pain. In another moment it overwhelmed everything.
Chapter 5
Author: hence-the-name
Characters Donna, Jack, Martha, Ten
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Rating: PG
Beta: nightrider101
Spoilers: All of New Who and Torchwood. Takes place after Journey’s End.
Summary: The TARDIS lands in Cardiff with a mysteriously ill Doctor on board.
A/N: Many thanks for everyone's patience while I worked on this!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The first time Donna heard someone call her name she barely registered it. It was a Friday afternoon and she was walking through Chiswick House Park on her way home from work, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine on her shoulders and feeling, all in all, more normal than she had in weeks. Her boss and coworkers had finally stopped behaving around her as if they were afraid she might collapse in seizures at any second, and just this morning Ms. Crowell had offered her a full-time, salaried position and title of Personal Assistant.
Donna grimaced to herself, kicking at the pavement. Ms. Crowell’s former PA was a friend of her mum’s who had decided she was ready to retire; Donna had only gotten the job as a favor to her, to fill in until they could make a permanent hire, though it was all down to her that she had impressed Ms. Crowell enough to get the job. She should have been happy, really, especially under the circumstances. Two years of intermittent employment could be explained away by the illness that had left gaping holes in her memory, but it didn’t exactly make her the most desirable job candidate, even if she had made a full recovery. Well, nearly; there had been a specialist, apparently; a doctor who had assured her mum and granddad that she would be fine, though large chunks of the last two years would always be missing from her memories-including, it seemed, the doctor himself.
They were keeping something from her, Donna knew. She had picked it up in Egypt, Mum said, but there were holes in Donna’s memory from before that, ever since the wedding and Lance’s death. She had a feeling they were trying to protect her from something, and after a while Donna had stopped pushing and just tried to get on with things, though if she was being honest the hardest thing wasn’t that her mum was keeping secrets from her; it was Granddad. He knew whatever it was Mum knew, and while it had made her suddenly and strangely protective of Donna, it had made him more distant. Not that they weren’t still close, but they were no longer co-conspirators. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he looked at her like his heart might break; and when Donna went up the hill with him at night, he always stayed out after she went in, instead of joining her for a cuppa before bed as he used to do.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the melancholy that had descended over her. She was doing rather well, considering everything. P.A. She would have killed for that title a few years ago. So why did she feel so empty?
“Donna!” The voice finally broke through her reverie and she paused and turned, realizing that she had heard her name shouted several times. The park was crowded, but it would have been difficult to miss the tall man jogging toward her: He looked like he’d just stepped off a movie set, in an old fashioned military coat that flew out behind him, chiseled features, and too-perfect hair.
“Donna,” he said again when he reached her, his accent flattening her name, not unpleasantly. He didn’t seem winded but his voice sounded breathless just the same, with...relief? “I’ve been looking all over-” He broke off. For a moment he just stared at her. She stared back, not sure if she should stay and talk or turn and run away. Relief on his face turned to dismay. “Oh, no. Not you, too.”
Donna blinked. “Not me too what?” she asked. “And who the hell are you?”
Instead of answering, he grabbed hold of her wrist. “Oi!” Donna cried, trying unsuccessfully to free herself. He ignored her.
With his other hand he touched a tiny Bluetooth device in his ear and said, “Martha?...Yeah, I found her. There’s just one problem.” He looked at Donna, frustration evident on his face. “She has amnesia, too.”
Donna stopped struggling and stared. She felt the color drain from her face. Her own breath sounded loud in her ears. For a moment she thought she was going to faint. “What?” she whispered. “How do you know about that?”
But he was still talking on his headset. “No...I don’t know.” His expression shifted from frustration to worry. “How is he?” he asked. He listened for another moment, looking more and more worried. Finally he said, “No, we’re on our way. Just sit tight.” He touched the earpiece again. “I need you to come with me,” he said to Donna, and without waiting for her to answer he started walking, pulling her along.
“Hold on a minute.” Donna yanked her wrist from his hand and stopped walking. He took a few more steps before he spun to face her, his coat flaring out and a scowl on his face. He had the look of someone used to getting his way, but Donna wasn’t intimidated by his pretty face or by his coat. She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s going on. Who are you?”
The man took a deep breath and looked skyward for a moment, as if he were willing himself to patience. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he said, when he looked back at her. “And you’re Donna Noble.”
Donna’s heart began to pound. “I know you.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what happened to me?”
He shook his head. “No.” Belatedly, his expression turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
Donna swallowed hard. “But-”
“Donna.” He closed the space between them and looked down at her. Donna could see a light of desperation in his eyes. “My friend is sick,” he said. “And I know you don’t remember him, but he’s your friend, too. He asked me to come find you.”
Donna’s mind raced. A part of her, a cynical, wounded part that had been hurt too many times, warned her to be careful; but something about Captain Jack Harkness tickled the back of her mind and moved her trust him. This was just the sort of thing she had been dreading. What had she done during those two years? Who had she met? Who had she grown so close to that he would ask for her when he was, if Jack’s face was any indication, gravely ill?
Jack’s hand closed around hers, more gently this time. “Will you come with me?” he asked.
Donna opened her mouth to answer and then closed it. She nodded and started walking, letting Jack guide them. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and Donna felt rather than saw some of the tension drain from his shoulders. He squeezed her hand in thanks.
“How do I know him?” Donna asked after a moment, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.
“You met at your wedding,” he said. “Your fiancé was...” he trailed off, frowning. “It’s sort of a long story, actually,” he said instead, glancing at her as if he wasn’t sure he should go on. Before she could press him, he stopped walking and dropped her hand so he could reach in his pocket. “Here we are.”
Donna looked around, surprised. She had expected for him to take her to his car and then to the hospital; instead they were standing in front of an old-fashioned phone box in a secluded area of the park. Jack withdrew a key from his pocket and slipped it into the lock. She took a step back, suddenly suspicious.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. “Is this some sort of a joke? Because if it is-” She glanced over her shoulder.
“It’s not a joke, Donna.” Jack pushed the door open and caught hold of her elbow with an implacable grip, pushing her toward the entrance. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Donna’s jaw dropped. She felt the blood rushing in her ears and a sudden pounding in her head as she took in the enormous space. She tried to step back outside but Jack was behind her, propelling her forward. “It’s bigger on the inside,” he said. “We really don’t have time for this.” And he led her through the domed room with its deep, pulsing thrum, skirting the central column and then down the opposite ramp, through another doorway, across a hall and into a large, bright infirmary.
A woman leapt up from the stool she had been sitting on and hurried toward them, hesitating when she drew close, watching Donna warily. Martha, Jack had called her on the phone. Donna wondered if she knew her, too.
“How is he?” Jack asked.
Martha shook her head, grimacing. “No worse, but no better, either.” She glanced at Donna. “Is she-?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.
Martha sighed, looking helpless. “I don’t know what to do, Jack.” She looked over her shoulder, toward the bed at the far end of the room. “I can try to keep him comfortable, but...” she trailed off.
Jack squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. He didn’t sound convinced.
Donna barely heard them. Her eyes were fixed on the far end of the room, where Martha had been sitting when they came in. A man lay in the bed beneath a silvery blanket, breathing raggedly. Several monitors blinked on the wall above him. He stirred and fretted in his sleep. Donna took a few steps toward him. There was something familiar about him. She frowned, trying to think past the pounding in her head, and had a sudden flash of memory, of him standing awkwardly in the lounge at her mother’s house and offering her his hand to shake.
“John Smith,” she said aloud, and then gave her head a shake. That wasn’t right. She took a few steps toward him.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“We don’t know,” Martha said.
“We were sort of hoping you could help us with that,” Jack added.
“Me?” Donna turned back toward him. Everything felt slow and dreamlike. “What could I do? I’m just a secretary.”
Martha came to stand beside her. “You’re a lot more than that,” she said.
She shook her head, feeling strange. “He’s not even human. He’s probably got-two hearts, or something.”
“What did you say?”
Donna didn’t answer. She crossed the room in a daze and knelt beside him, clasping his arm through the fabric of the blanket. It felt smooth and cool against her palms. She knew him. That tickle of recognition she had felt with Jack felt like a roar in her head when she looked at him, as if her whole being were responding to his presence. He stirred and fretted in his sleep.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Doctor,” Martha replied.
Another time she might have scoffed, but she only nodded, turned back toward him and repeated it, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.
He stirred again and turn his head toward her, his eyes fluttering open. She thought she saw a smile touch his lips. “Donna.” It was barely a whisper.
“Yeah.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm, wishing desperately that she remembered him, that she could offer some greater comfort. “I’m here.”
He drew another breath, looking as though he were trying to say something else, but a shudder ran through him and he squeezed his eyes shut, moaning in pain. He relaxed slowly, trailing off into whimpers. Donna reached up and smoothed his hair.
“Shh,” she soothed. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”
The moment she touched him, he began to glow.
Donna jerked her hand back. The glow intensified, surrounding the two of them and blocking out the rest of the room. He drew a deep, gasping breath, his eyes opening wide. For a moment he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Then he pushed himself up onto one elbow and turned to her. “Donna.” He spoke in a clear, bright tenor that sounded deeply, painfully familiar to her. He smiled. She gaped at him.
“Doctor?” she stammered.
He sat up, swinging his feet around, and took her hands in his. The glow spread to her, creeping up her arms to her shoulders and enveloping her. Donna felt a pleasant buzz deep in her throat, spreading out along her spine and lodging in her brain. She looked down at herself. She was glowing, now. “What’s happening?” she whispered.
He smiled again, wider this time, and let out a relieved, delighted laugh. “You’re regenerating.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hands. “But you will.”
The light surrounding them grew brighter, and with it the resonance in Donna’s bones, deepening to the point of pain. In another moment it overwhelmed everything.
Chapter 5