Fic: Borrowed Time (4/11)
Title: Borrowed Time (Part 4 of 11)
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna
Disclaimer: Rusty is fail, so I'm taking over. But they're not mine, I'm afraid.
Warnings/Spoilers: Series 4; Planet of the Dead.
Word Count: About 1,300
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: I'm going away tomorrow to stay with my cousin for a couple of days, so the next part won't be up until Thursday I'm afraid. Unless she leaves me alone with her computer for a period of time... lol, it's unlikely, we have much planned :) Sorry!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
After a little enquiry, the Doctor managed to ascertain that the body they needed to see was currently residing in a hospital mortuary in Oxford, where the man had lived, so it was back to the TARDIS to travel there. Not a pleasant task, but a necessary one if they were to find out more about the situation.
Walking down the driveway to where the ship was parked, Donna felt oddly apprehensive about going inside the old blue box once more. When she’d come out of her bedroom and seen him standing there, it had been like a hammer blow. Thinking about it now, she’d have thought that remembering would have been like forgetting; when he’d wiped her mind, thousands of images had flashed before her eyes in a matter of seconds, slipping away as they faded until finally she’d lost consciousness. But it hadn’t been like that. It was more like everything had slotted back into place very suddenly as if it had always been there. Whoosh! - and she remembered.
She felt slightly overwhelmed now. If she was honest, her primary instinct would have been to sleep for quite a long while, but of course there was no time for that. She still couldn’t quite believe that her time was running out so fast; that this was the end. Perhaps because she was with the Doctor. Oh, he’d got them into so many seemingly inescapable situations when they had travelled together, and he’d always fixed things in the end. There was something so very reassuring about him that made you certain that everything was going to be okay. Perhaps this was the one time it wasn’t.
She knew why she’d chosen to stay here on Earth and help the Doctor with this, and not gone jetting off to exotic planets. Besides wanting to remain close to home, she wanted to feel like she was using her last hours to do something useful. Alien sightseeing was all very well, but what was the use of it if, so it appeared, these eyes were viewing their last scenes? Memories of anything she saw would be lost once more, but if she could aid the Doctor in saving the day one more time - well, that was something that had consequences that would remain after she was gone.
They were standing in front of the TARDIS now, and she put out a hand to feel its smooth exterior. A shiver ran down her spine. She pushed open the door, and stepped inside. Just as she remembered. The cool, turquoise light that the whole room was bathed in had the same calming effect that it always had. She touched the one of the coral-like pillars nearby.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said aloud to the gently humming ship, and it seemed to increase the pitch of its hum as if in welcome. The Doctor smiled. Few of his other companions had treated his ship as he did, and he knew the TARDIS appreciated it. She liked Donna, always had. Huon particles and magnetic attraction were one explanation for Donna’s original appearance in the TARDIS, but the Doctor secretly suspected that his ship had played a small part in bringing Donna on board that first time simply because she’d wanted her to come.
“So,” said the Doctor. “Setting coordinates for Oxford… there we go!”
The Time Rotor began to move up and down with its steady engine noise. Donna remembered that she’d heard that noise in her dreams last night, before she’d awoken feeling like her head was splitting in two.
There was a soft bump as they landed. The Doctor took her hand in his, and they walked through the white doors together. They were in a dark, deserted corridor. This area of the hospital seemed to have a creepy feel to it but maybe that was just Donna’s imagination, knowing what its purpose was. It was in a separate building to the hospital wards, and while they were still full of activity, the mortuary was soundless and empty at this hour.
The Doctor lead the way through a door off the corridor, pushing it open silently and stepping into the cabinet-lined room. Donna shuddered involuntarily. Noticing this motion, the Doctor squeezed her hand.
“Do you want to wait outside?” he asked, concerned.
“No, it’s okay,” said Donna, though he noticed she looked very white. But she was determined to stick with him. With the Doctor, you had to take the rough with the smooth. Besides, it was probably eerier out there without him than in here with him.
“Sure?”
She nodded.
He strode over to a desk against the right hand wall and began to look through some files.
“Gotcha!” he exclaimed after a several minutes, and walked over to one of the cabinets. “Number 8. Officer Carl Goodson, 34 years old.”
He looked at Donna in a wordless enquiry as to her well being, and after a small nod from her told him she was all right, he pulled open the door and slid the drawer out. He uncovered the corpse.
A cloud of vapour from the sublimating ice chilled the air. The dead man’s eyes were closed, and Donna was thankful for that. There was nothing to fear from the dead, and the Doctor had been around long enough to know that it was the living you had to watch out for, but Donna couldn’t help a wave of horror washing over her. She hoped the Doctor would be quick with whatever he was doing.
Pulling the sonic screwdriver out, the Doctor fiddled with the setting. “I’m going to scan it for traces of alien substances,” he said.
“Him,” said Donna.
The Doctor frowned. “What?”
He was alarmed to see tears swimming in her eyes. “You said ‘it’,” Donna answered, clearly upset. “He’s not an ‘it’, he’s a him. A person, who used to have thoughts and feelings and dreams - not just a dead body. Is that how you’re going to think of me when I’m not… not here?” She broke off and brushed the back of her hand across her eyes.
He could have kicked himself. “Donna, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t thinking,” he said, distressed at having caused her anguish.
She turned away slightly. “Get on with it then,” she said edgily. She forgave him his mistake, but there was still a slight touch of frostiness in her voice.
The Doctor removed the sonic screwdriver from his pocked and glanced nervously at Donna, fearful of upsetting her again. She made a slight noise of impatience, and he hastily commenced the job. He ran the tool along the length of the body, and then went back to the face and chest and scanned those areas again.
“That’s interesting. Very interesting. Seems to be some sort of powder in the nasal passage and lungs.” He looked into Donna’s eyes again. “I need to take a swab to find out what it is. Are you okay with that?”
She shrugged. “Why are you asking me?” she replied, a little tersely.
“Because I don’t want you to think I don’t have any respect for the dead,” he explained. “It’s just that I have to know what’s causing all of this, and the only way I can do that is analysing a sample back at the TARDIS. If I could, I’d leave him in peace, but I can’t.”
Her face softened, and when she spoke, her tone was gentle. “Do what you have to do,” Donna acquiesced, gazing at the dead man’s face and wordlessly apologising for disturbing his rest.
A few minutes later, he was finished, and they carefully replaced the body back in the cabinet. Switching off the light, they left Officer Carl Goodson to his eternal slumber.
Next part
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna
Disclaimer: Rusty is fail, so I'm taking over. But they're not mine, I'm afraid.
Warnings/Spoilers: Series 4; Planet of the Dead.
Word Count: About 1,300
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: I'm going away tomorrow to stay with my cousin for a couple of days, so the next part won't be up until Thursday I'm afraid. Unless she leaves me alone with her computer for a period of time... lol, it's unlikely, we have much planned :) Sorry!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
After a little enquiry, the Doctor managed to ascertain that the body they needed to see was currently residing in a hospital mortuary in Oxford, where the man had lived, so it was back to the TARDIS to travel there. Not a pleasant task, but a necessary one if they were to find out more about the situation.
Walking down the driveway to where the ship was parked, Donna felt oddly apprehensive about going inside the old blue box once more. When she’d come out of her bedroom and seen him standing there, it had been like a hammer blow. Thinking about it now, she’d have thought that remembering would have been like forgetting; when he’d wiped her mind, thousands of images had flashed before her eyes in a matter of seconds, slipping away as they faded until finally she’d lost consciousness. But it hadn’t been like that. It was more like everything had slotted back into place very suddenly as if it had always been there. Whoosh! - and she remembered.
She felt slightly overwhelmed now. If she was honest, her primary instinct would have been to sleep for quite a long while, but of course there was no time for that. She still couldn’t quite believe that her time was running out so fast; that this was the end. Perhaps because she was with the Doctor. Oh, he’d got them into so many seemingly inescapable situations when they had travelled together, and he’d always fixed things in the end. There was something so very reassuring about him that made you certain that everything was going to be okay. Perhaps this was the one time it wasn’t.
She knew why she’d chosen to stay here on Earth and help the Doctor with this, and not gone jetting off to exotic planets. Besides wanting to remain close to home, she wanted to feel like she was using her last hours to do something useful. Alien sightseeing was all very well, but what was the use of it if, so it appeared, these eyes were viewing their last scenes? Memories of anything she saw would be lost once more, but if she could aid the Doctor in saving the day one more time - well, that was something that had consequences that would remain after she was gone.
They were standing in front of the TARDIS now, and she put out a hand to feel its smooth exterior. A shiver ran down her spine. She pushed open the door, and stepped inside. Just as she remembered. The cool, turquoise light that the whole room was bathed in had the same calming effect that it always had. She touched the one of the coral-like pillars nearby.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said aloud to the gently humming ship, and it seemed to increase the pitch of its hum as if in welcome. The Doctor smiled. Few of his other companions had treated his ship as he did, and he knew the TARDIS appreciated it. She liked Donna, always had. Huon particles and magnetic attraction were one explanation for Donna’s original appearance in the TARDIS, but the Doctor secretly suspected that his ship had played a small part in bringing Donna on board that first time simply because she’d wanted her to come.
“So,” said the Doctor. “Setting coordinates for Oxford… there we go!”
The Time Rotor began to move up and down with its steady engine noise. Donna remembered that she’d heard that noise in her dreams last night, before she’d awoken feeling like her head was splitting in two.
There was a soft bump as they landed. The Doctor took her hand in his, and they walked through the white doors together. They were in a dark, deserted corridor. This area of the hospital seemed to have a creepy feel to it but maybe that was just Donna’s imagination, knowing what its purpose was. It was in a separate building to the hospital wards, and while they were still full of activity, the mortuary was soundless and empty at this hour.
The Doctor lead the way through a door off the corridor, pushing it open silently and stepping into the cabinet-lined room. Donna shuddered involuntarily. Noticing this motion, the Doctor squeezed her hand.
“Do you want to wait outside?” he asked, concerned.
“No, it’s okay,” said Donna, though he noticed she looked very white. But she was determined to stick with him. With the Doctor, you had to take the rough with the smooth. Besides, it was probably eerier out there without him than in here with him.
“Sure?”
She nodded.
He strode over to a desk against the right hand wall and began to look through some files.
“Gotcha!” he exclaimed after a several minutes, and walked over to one of the cabinets. “Number 8. Officer Carl Goodson, 34 years old.”
He looked at Donna in a wordless enquiry as to her well being, and after a small nod from her told him she was all right, he pulled open the door and slid the drawer out. He uncovered the corpse.
A cloud of vapour from the sublimating ice chilled the air. The dead man’s eyes were closed, and Donna was thankful for that. There was nothing to fear from the dead, and the Doctor had been around long enough to know that it was the living you had to watch out for, but Donna couldn’t help a wave of horror washing over her. She hoped the Doctor would be quick with whatever he was doing.
Pulling the sonic screwdriver out, the Doctor fiddled with the setting. “I’m going to scan it for traces of alien substances,” he said.
“Him,” said Donna.
The Doctor frowned. “What?”
He was alarmed to see tears swimming in her eyes. “You said ‘it’,” Donna answered, clearly upset. “He’s not an ‘it’, he’s a him. A person, who used to have thoughts and feelings and dreams - not just a dead body. Is that how you’re going to think of me when I’m not… not here?” She broke off and brushed the back of her hand across her eyes.
He could have kicked himself. “Donna, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t thinking,” he said, distressed at having caused her anguish.
She turned away slightly. “Get on with it then,” she said edgily. She forgave him his mistake, but there was still a slight touch of frostiness in her voice.
The Doctor removed the sonic screwdriver from his pocked and glanced nervously at Donna, fearful of upsetting her again. She made a slight noise of impatience, and he hastily commenced the job. He ran the tool along the length of the body, and then went back to the face and chest and scanned those areas again.
“That’s interesting. Very interesting. Seems to be some sort of powder in the nasal passage and lungs.” He looked into Donna’s eyes again. “I need to take a swab to find out what it is. Are you okay with that?”
She shrugged. “Why are you asking me?” she replied, a little tersely.
“Because I don’t want you to think I don’t have any respect for the dead,” he explained. “It’s just that I have to know what’s causing all of this, and the only way I can do that is analysing a sample back at the TARDIS. If I could, I’d leave him in peace, but I can’t.”
Her face softened, and when she spoke, her tone was gentle. “Do what you have to do,” Donna acquiesced, gazing at the dead man’s face and wordlessly apologising for disturbing his rest.
A few minutes later, he was finished, and they carefully replaced the body back in the cabinet. Switching off the light, they left Officer Carl Goodson to his eternal slumber.
Next part