Newish DW Fic - Daydreams Part 1
Title: Daydreams 1/5
Author: katherine_b
Rating: PG
Characters: Donna and the Doctor (Ten) (may become Ten/Donna)
Spoilers: All of Season 4 up to the end of Forest of the Dead and a few bits and pieces from earlier episodes.
Summary: The Doctor has nightmares about Donna.
A/N: This is a sequel to Nightmares. It’d be a really good idea to read that first. Otherwise this will make no sense at all.
Part I
The Doctor has nightmares.
Death and guilt and pain and Cybermen and Daleks and fire and Gallifrey.
And with Donna Noble in the TARDIS, he has more nightmares than ever before.
She appears in his nightmares, terrified and angry, full of bluster, always brilliant.
He’d been somewhat ambivalent towards her once.
But not anymore.
Now he can’t imagine how he would cope without her.
He sees her in his dreams, always hurt, sometimes dead.
And they’re the times when he wakes up screaming.
Or crying.
It’s ridiculous - she’s not dead, she’s just in the next room, at least until she comes in to check that he’s all right.
That’s his greatest fear, though - that something will happen to Donna and he’ll be left alone. Again.
It was a fear he only fully understood after the run-in with the Sontarans. That was when he realised that what frightened him wasn’t actually dying, but the thought of dying alone. The fact that she wasn’t there to help, as she had been with Matron Cofelia, and in Pompeii, and with the Ood, terrified him more than he could express.
That was why he never insisted on leaving her behind to keep her safe again, why he kept her close to him on Messaline and took her with him when they faced the Vespiform.
Except once.
He still can’t forgive himself for what happened to her in the Library. He blames himself, not Strackman Lux, for what she had to suffer, because even the little she’s told him revealed how much it hurt her. He’s still trying to find some way to make it up to her and assuage his own feelings of guilt.
However he’s not thinking of any of those things at the moment.
He’s walking with Donna and Martha under the trees as the sun fades away in the western sky.
“Okay, when I said unlimited credit, that doesn’t mean we’ve got unlimited room in the TARDIS,” the Doctor complains as he follows what looks like a walking pile of bags back to the blue box standing in the middle of Central Park.
Still, he can’t help smirking as he listens to Jack gasp and wheeze.
Death by shopping. That would have to be a new one. Even for the immortal Time Agent.
It’s an unexpected bonus of his injuries that Donna won’t let him carry anything in case he hurts himself.
“You talk a lot of rubbish sometimes,” Donna tells him, grinning from ear to ear. “I bet there are rooms in that ship of yours that even you’ve never been in!”
“Are not,” he shoots back at once, matching her grin with one of his own. “I might not be able to tell you where they are, but I can always tell you what they are.”
“I’m tempted to challenge you to prove it,” she teases, as they approach the TARDIS, before leaping forward to grab a bag that is dangling precariously from the large pile in Jack’s arms.
The Doctor feels a hand on his and looks down to see Martha eyeing him curiously.
“I was right, you know,” she tells him softly. “She is good.”
He nods. “I know.”
The look he receives in reply to this comment is mocking. “Not like that, Doctor! I mean, she’s good for you!”
“Well,” he says slowly, “I’d still be getting over everything if it wasn’t for her.”
Her response to this is an eye-roll that makes his neck ache in sympathy and then she runs to catch up with Jack and Donna. The women relieve Jack of some of his load while the Doctor fishes for his key and opens the door for them to enter - and he definitely doesn’t take an extra moment longer than normal because there’s a sharp corner of something or other jabbing Jack in the throat.
“Come on,” Martha says to Donna as soon as they’re inside, taking about half of the remaining parcels in Jack’s arms, “let’s go and sort these out so you don’t end up with my present for Tom and I don’t get your granddad’s new tie.”
“All right,” Donna agrees with a laugh, taking the other packages. “Come on then.”
They disappear into the bowels of the ship and Jack leans against the jumpseat, his arms folded over his chest and an impressed look on his face.
“Where do you find them?”
“Actually, they usually find me,” the Doctor answers absently, busy entering the co-ordinates for Cardiff.
Jack gives a short, sharp bark of laughter. “You really are clueless, aren’t you, Doctor?”
He shoots the interloper a puzzled glance. “Hey! What?”
“You’ve got no idea what’s going on here, have you?”
The Doctor feels suddenly anxious. He can’t help wondering if he’s missing something incredibly obvious, the way he did with Martha’s feelings for him. There’s a tense feeling in his gut as he speaks.
“Donna’s not - is she? Like Martha?”
Jack tilts his head to one side. “Has Donna ever told you how dumb you can be? I mean, really, you might have an IQ that puts everyone else on this planet to shame, and an ego about the same size but you’re a completely insensitive dolt!”
“I believe she’s mentioned something about it once or twice,” the Doctor mutters as he tugs awkwardly on his ear, turning back to the scanner so that he doesn’t have to see at the expression on Jack’s face.
“Then this time, it might be a good idea if you pay attention.”
The conversation ends there as Donna and Martha return to the console room, but it’s given the Doctor food for thought. He watches Donna closely during the journey back to Cardiff, trying to see hints of the same sorts of feelings he knew Martha had for him.
Perhaps he’s missing something, but he really can’t see it. Donna jokes - flirts - with Jack as much as Jack flirts with her, and the Doctor frowns over the console controls, occasionally grinding his teeth to stop himself from commenting. Martha sits on the jumpseat, watching the teasing conversation, sometimes glancing at the Doctor as if waiting for him to say something.
Cardiff can’t come quickly enough.
They wave Jack and Martha off, standing in the doorway of the TARDIS, the Doctor with one hand on Donna’s shoulder.
But she doesn’t move away.
Perhaps she doesn’t even notice.
Instead she just waves until Jack and Martha disappear into the invisible elevator and then turns to him with a grin.
“So, are we getting out of here, or did you want the TARDIS to become a tourist attraction?”
“Perception filter, Donna,” he reminds her, walking back to the console as she closes the doors.
“I know.” Donna smiles as she comes over to join him, fishing in her pocket. A moment later, she pulls out the plastic card that has seen so much use today and offers it to him. “Here.”
“Keep it.” He shakes his head, intent on getting the TARDIS into the Vortex. “You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks.” She lightly touches his arm and then reaches out to flip a switch that smooths the flight of the TARDIS.
“Oi!”
She chuckles, backing away to sit on the jumpseat. “Yeah, yeah, TARDIS, Time Lord, heard it all before.”
He rolls his eyes, grinning over his shoulder to show he’s not actually annoyed, and gets a matching smile in return. Then, as he turns back to the console, Donna looks around for a moment, frowning.
“Where’s it gone?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Where’s what gone?”
“Your hand.”
He waves at her. “Hello! Both here!”
“You daft git!” She pokes him and then points to the place beside the jumpseat where the glass jar containing his former hand usually resided. “I mean that hand!”
“Oh.”
He turns, studies the place for a moment, tugging idly on his ear, before his eyes widen in realisation.
“Oh!” he repeats.
“Well?”
“Jack!” he grumbles to himself. “And I only just got it back from him!”
“Why did he have it in the first place?” Donna demands. “And what’s he want it for?”
“Probably to stick in their collection at Torchwood.”
The Doctor thinks for a moment about going back to reclaim it, but he’s never really felt that much attachment to it, probably unsurprising considering it was only attached to him for a few hours, so he decides not to bother. He’ll pick it up next time they go to Cardiff.
“What, they’ve got a museum of alien artefacts, do they?” Donna suggests, before she suddenly yawns and waves a hand at him. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to hear the answer. I’m going to unpack the shopping that’s presently strewn all over my bed. And if there was any chance of some tea afterwards, someone could earn my undying gratitude.”
The Doctor laughs, but Donna’s gone before he can reply, and he makes sure the TARDIS is settled in the Vortex before he heads for the kitchen.
Next Part
Author: katherine_b
Rating: PG
Characters: Donna and the Doctor (Ten) (may become Ten/Donna)
Spoilers: All of Season 4 up to the end of Forest of the Dead and a few bits and pieces from earlier episodes.
Summary: The Doctor has nightmares about Donna.
A/N: This is a sequel to Nightmares. It’d be a really good idea to read that first. Otherwise this will make no sense at all.
Part I
The Doctor has nightmares.
Death and guilt and pain and Cybermen and Daleks and fire and Gallifrey.
And with Donna Noble in the TARDIS, he has more nightmares than ever before.
She appears in his nightmares, terrified and angry, full of bluster, always brilliant.
He’d been somewhat ambivalent towards her once.
But not anymore.
Now he can’t imagine how he would cope without her.
He sees her in his dreams, always hurt, sometimes dead.
And they’re the times when he wakes up screaming.
Or crying.
It’s ridiculous - she’s not dead, she’s just in the next room, at least until she comes in to check that he’s all right.
That’s his greatest fear, though - that something will happen to Donna and he’ll be left alone. Again.
It was a fear he only fully understood after the run-in with the Sontarans. That was when he realised that what frightened him wasn’t actually dying, but the thought of dying alone. The fact that she wasn’t there to help, as she had been with Matron Cofelia, and in Pompeii, and with the Ood, terrified him more than he could express.
That was why he never insisted on leaving her behind to keep her safe again, why he kept her close to him on Messaline and took her with him when they faced the Vespiform.
Except once.
He still can’t forgive himself for what happened to her in the Library. He blames himself, not Strackman Lux, for what she had to suffer, because even the little she’s told him revealed how much it hurt her. He’s still trying to find some way to make it up to her and assuage his own feelings of guilt.
However he’s not thinking of any of those things at the moment.
He’s walking with Donna and Martha under the trees as the sun fades away in the western sky.
“Okay, when I said unlimited credit, that doesn’t mean we’ve got unlimited room in the TARDIS,” the Doctor complains as he follows what looks like a walking pile of bags back to the blue box standing in the middle of Central Park.
Still, he can’t help smirking as he listens to Jack gasp and wheeze.
Death by shopping. That would have to be a new one. Even for the immortal Time Agent.
It’s an unexpected bonus of his injuries that Donna won’t let him carry anything in case he hurts himself.
“You talk a lot of rubbish sometimes,” Donna tells him, grinning from ear to ear. “I bet there are rooms in that ship of yours that even you’ve never been in!”
“Are not,” he shoots back at once, matching her grin with one of his own. “I might not be able to tell you where they are, but I can always tell you what they are.”
“I’m tempted to challenge you to prove it,” she teases, as they approach the TARDIS, before leaping forward to grab a bag that is dangling precariously from the large pile in Jack’s arms.
The Doctor feels a hand on his and looks down to see Martha eyeing him curiously.
“I was right, you know,” she tells him softly. “She is good.”
He nods. “I know.”
The look he receives in reply to this comment is mocking. “Not like that, Doctor! I mean, she’s good for you!”
“Well,” he says slowly, “I’d still be getting over everything if it wasn’t for her.”
Her response to this is an eye-roll that makes his neck ache in sympathy and then she runs to catch up with Jack and Donna. The women relieve Jack of some of his load while the Doctor fishes for his key and opens the door for them to enter - and he definitely doesn’t take an extra moment longer than normal because there’s a sharp corner of something or other jabbing Jack in the throat.
“Come on,” Martha says to Donna as soon as they’re inside, taking about half of the remaining parcels in Jack’s arms, “let’s go and sort these out so you don’t end up with my present for Tom and I don’t get your granddad’s new tie.”
“All right,” Donna agrees with a laugh, taking the other packages. “Come on then.”
They disappear into the bowels of the ship and Jack leans against the jumpseat, his arms folded over his chest and an impressed look on his face.
“Where do you find them?”
“Actually, they usually find me,” the Doctor answers absently, busy entering the co-ordinates for Cardiff.
Jack gives a short, sharp bark of laughter. “You really are clueless, aren’t you, Doctor?”
He shoots the interloper a puzzled glance. “Hey! What?”
“You’ve got no idea what’s going on here, have you?”
The Doctor feels suddenly anxious. He can’t help wondering if he’s missing something incredibly obvious, the way he did with Martha’s feelings for him. There’s a tense feeling in his gut as he speaks.
“Donna’s not - is she? Like Martha?”
Jack tilts his head to one side. “Has Donna ever told you how dumb you can be? I mean, really, you might have an IQ that puts everyone else on this planet to shame, and an ego about the same size but you’re a completely insensitive dolt!”
“I believe she’s mentioned something about it once or twice,” the Doctor mutters as he tugs awkwardly on his ear, turning back to the scanner so that he doesn’t have to see at the expression on Jack’s face.
“Then this time, it might be a good idea if you pay attention.”
The conversation ends there as Donna and Martha return to the console room, but it’s given the Doctor food for thought. He watches Donna closely during the journey back to Cardiff, trying to see hints of the same sorts of feelings he knew Martha had for him.
Perhaps he’s missing something, but he really can’t see it. Donna jokes - flirts - with Jack as much as Jack flirts with her, and the Doctor frowns over the console controls, occasionally grinding his teeth to stop himself from commenting. Martha sits on the jumpseat, watching the teasing conversation, sometimes glancing at the Doctor as if waiting for him to say something.
Cardiff can’t come quickly enough.
They wave Jack and Martha off, standing in the doorway of the TARDIS, the Doctor with one hand on Donna’s shoulder.
But she doesn’t move away.
Perhaps she doesn’t even notice.
Instead she just waves until Jack and Martha disappear into the invisible elevator and then turns to him with a grin.
“So, are we getting out of here, or did you want the TARDIS to become a tourist attraction?”
“Perception filter, Donna,” he reminds her, walking back to the console as she closes the doors.
“I know.” Donna smiles as she comes over to join him, fishing in her pocket. A moment later, she pulls out the plastic card that has seen so much use today and offers it to him. “Here.”
“Keep it.” He shakes his head, intent on getting the TARDIS into the Vortex. “You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks.” She lightly touches his arm and then reaches out to flip a switch that smooths the flight of the TARDIS.
“Oi!”
She chuckles, backing away to sit on the jumpseat. “Yeah, yeah, TARDIS, Time Lord, heard it all before.”
He rolls his eyes, grinning over his shoulder to show he’s not actually annoyed, and gets a matching smile in return. Then, as he turns back to the console, Donna looks around for a moment, frowning.
“Where’s it gone?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Where’s what gone?”
“Your hand.”
He waves at her. “Hello! Both here!”
“You daft git!” She pokes him and then points to the place beside the jumpseat where the glass jar containing his former hand usually resided. “I mean that hand!”
“Oh.”
He turns, studies the place for a moment, tugging idly on his ear, before his eyes widen in realisation.
“Oh!” he repeats.
“Well?”
“Jack!” he grumbles to himself. “And I only just got it back from him!”
“Why did he have it in the first place?” Donna demands. “And what’s he want it for?”
“Probably to stick in their collection at Torchwood.”
The Doctor thinks for a moment about going back to reclaim it, but he’s never really felt that much attachment to it, probably unsurprising considering it was only attached to him for a few hours, so he decides not to bother. He’ll pick it up next time they go to Cardiff.
“What, they’ve got a museum of alien artefacts, do they?” Donna suggests, before she suddenly yawns and waves a hand at him. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to hear the answer. I’m going to unpack the shopping that’s presently strewn all over my bed. And if there was any chance of some tea afterwards, someone could earn my undying gratitude.”
The Doctor laughs, but Donna’s gone before he can reply, and he makes sure the TARDIS is settled in the Vortex before he heads for the kitchen.
Next Part