Fic: Borrowed Time (6/11)
Title: Borrowed Time (Part 6 of 11)
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna, various others
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 1,800
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: Hope you're still with me. We're over halfway there now! And it's not too late to catch up if you fell behind y'know *points shamelessly at linked parts below* :P
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Before they arrived at their destination, the Doctor made sure they were protected from the deadly pollen by setting the sonic screwdriver to a complicated, little-used setting and bleeping it first over her face and then his own.
“What’s that then?” Donna asked, curious.
“Something clever,” he replied, and she raised her eyebrows as if to say, “Try me.” He explained. “Remember I told you that the spores are faintly electromagnetic? Well, I’ve created an opposing magnetic field around your nose and mouth that’ll repel them. You see?”
She nodded, and at that moment the TARDIS landed. It was one of the rougher landings Donna had experienced, and they were both thrown to the ground. He helped her up, dusted her off and grabbed her hand to pull her outside excitedly.
They had materialised at the edge of the large field. What greeted their sight as they stepped outside was row upon row of golden flowers gently swaying in the breeze. Morning was just breaking, and the watery sunshine bravely cast its warmth on the pair.
Though they knew that these blooms were extremely dangerous, neither the Doctor nor Donna could help thinking that the endless bobbing flowers made a striking scene to behold. The sky was a pale blue that seemed fresh and hopeful. Tiny beads of dew clung to the yellow petals, glittering as they caught the light. A slight lump formed in Donna’s throat. The world was so beautiful at times, and it didn’t bear thinking about the prospect that it might not much longer be hers.
As if he had tapped into what she was thinking - and he hadn’t, actually, since he usually refrained from exercising any telepathic ability on Donna out of respect for her privacy - the Doctor put his arm around Donna’s shoulders and pulled her close.
“Come on then,” he said brightly. “These are definitely the Croën plants that are causing the trouble - I can taste the electromagnetism in the air. See that big warehouse-type place over there?” He pointed to a building in the distance, and she nodded. “That’s where we’re going. Worth looking around; this is the biggest patch of land that The Biofuel Corporation own and I reckon there’ll be something there to help us.”
They set off in that direction, holding hands just like they always had. “So,” said Donna, carefully picking her way through the flowers. “What have you been up to without me all year?”
The Doctor thought about all the times he’d spent battling through the dark places in his mind. The times he’d sat in the TARDIS garden staring at the brightly coloured fish in the bubbling depths of the stream there, and wishing he could live such a simple existence. The times he’d done nothing at all for hours, half wishing that if he were still for long enough, he could stop existing because it sounded less painful. No, she didn’t need to know about those times.
“Oh, you know,” he responded. “The usual. Rescued a few civilisations, got the Earth out of some tight spots, dealt with some aliens. Nothing extraordinary.” He grinned.
Donna smiled. “And there’s me doing the nine to five routine. Same old stuff, every day.” Her smile faltered. “The life… well, that you chose for me. When you took my memories. I was just Donna the average temp from Chiswick again. Not special in any way.”
Biting his lip, the Doctor looked sideways at her and guilt washed over him again. “You were always special, Donna,” he asserted earnestly. “But I had to take your memories, even though it tore me apart to do it - you would have died, and I was never, ever going to let that happen. I never stopped feeling guilty about it though. Never.”
“Did you never think,” Donna said, trying to keep an edge of bitterness out of her voice, “that it might have been better to just let me die, as I was, as the DoctorDonna - the best I’d ever been?”
“No,” the Doctor said. “No, I never doubted my decision. Even without my mind in yours, even before you met me, you were still brilliant. I knew when I left you that you had the potential to be brilliant again.”
Donna said nothing. At some point in the conversation, they had let go of one another’s hands. She wanted to cry for having ever brought up the subject and spoiled the moment. What had been a peaceful, wonderful time had now been ruined by resentful feelings, and the fact that their time together was limited made it all the more distressing.
She attempted to control her feelings, knowing that the Doctor’s decision had been a hard one and trying to understand that it was the only choice he could have lived with.
“So you carried on… all on your own?” she ventured.
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t find anyone else?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Did I put you off having company aboard the TARDIS forever?” she quipped, slightly nervously since he didn’t seem to be saying much. He just smiled distractedly, which did nothing to allay her fears.
She stopped, forcing him to stop too and look at her. “Doctor, please talk to me,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry I challenged you about wiping my mind. I just… I can’t help feeling like the life you sent me back to, after everything I’d seen - it was worse than death, to have all that taken away from me when I was someone before.” She realised she was probably making things worse, and turned away to endeavour to compose herself.
“You don’t have to justify how you feel; I’m not angry with you, Donna,” said the Doctor, catching hold of her arm and trying to reassure her. “You have every right to be livid with me, for not giving you a choice in your fate. I was just thinking - well, letting my imagination get the better of me, really. Imagining what would have happened if I’d listened to you and done nothing.” He stared ahead grimly. “So many scenes. Taking your body back to your family. Explaining. The questions - why didn’t you save her? Surely there was something you could have done? Why couldn’t you keep her safe? Then your funeral. And you gone, forever. That would have been the worst bit. At least this past year I’ve known that you’re out there, alive and well, and being quietly amazing still, even if the time when the whole universe rested on your shoulders was gone. Knowing that was the light in the endless dark for me. Don’t you see, Donna? It was selfish, in so many ways, and I’m so sorry. But… I’d still do it again.”
He fell silent once more, and somehow they found themselves in a close embrace, forgetting any previous hostility. Words had gone as far as they could, and now there was only the medium of touch to convey the unspoken emotions - forgiveness, remorse, sorrow, fear, and when they broke apart, the slight snag they’d felt in their easy companionship was healed. They walked on.
Donna was the first to break the stillness. “Do you remember what I told you the first time we parted ways, at Christmas?” she asked him.
He frowned. “Erm… something along the lines of, ‘No, Doctor, I’m not coming with you because you’re a planet-hopping lunatic alien who goes searching for danger, and you scare the hell out of me’?” he joked.
She hit him lightly. “Not that bit!”
He looked bemused. “What then?”
“I told you to find someone. Because you needed someone,” she said, fixing him with a pointed stare. “Why didn’t you find anybody after me?”
He sighed. “There have been people I’ve met,” he admitted. “Did you read about that double decker bus getting sucked through a wormhole? Flying metal stingrays?”
She nodded, and then groaned. “Oh, I might have guessed that was you. Typical.”
“Yep,” he said. “Well, I met this girl called Christina while it was all happening. And she wanted to come with me. But in the end… I said no. Because…” He paused, wondering whether to burden her by telling her all the things that had been running through his mind. He realised that he was tired of keeping it all inside him, and there was nobody better to talk to than his best friend. He drew a deep breath, and it all came out in a rush. “Everyone I touch ends up getting hurt and I can’t let anyone else suffer because of me. I’m a danger to people, and for the amount of people whose lives I’ve ruined, I don’t deserve anybody anyway.” he said firmly. “I’m hardly better than any of the enemies I despise for what they do. Look at what I’ve done to you.”
There was a raw pain in his voice, and his cheeks coloured a little after his outburst. Donna wanted nothing more than to gather him up in her arms and keep him safe from the universe. Not for the first time, she was reminded of how much weight he carried on his shoulders, and him beating himself up over the times when he couldn’t make absolutely everything okay was totally absurd, and heartbreaking.
“But Doctor,” she urged gently, “I wouldn’t have missed travelling with you for the world. Heck, what would I want with the world? - you’ve given me hundreds of new worlds! Don’t start thinking it would have been better if I’d never met you, because I don’t! You make people better. When I think about how I was when you first met me - I’d rather die now than live a thousand years like that, and you’d better believe me spaceman ’cos you really don’t want me to start dishing out the slaps!” A smile tugged at the Doctor’s mouth in spite of himself. “You never mean for things to go wrong, and that makes all the difference. Of course people die sometimes. Of course everything can’t turn out fine and dandy all of the time. But it isn’t your fault!”
The Doctor was struck by how amazing she was. How was it that she always knew exactly what to say? Here she was, with the very real possibility that she might not live to see another day, and she didn’t even blame him in the slightest.
Donna noted that he looked somewhat happier. Pleased, she turned her expression to one of mock sternness. “Oh, and as for putting yourself on a par with various evil villains you’ve fought, don’t flatter yourself, sunshine. You’re going to have to do a bit better than that if you want to be a bad guy. I suggest you start reading the Dalek Guide To Being An Intergalactic Arsehole or something.”
Suppressing a grin, the Doctor nodded seriously. “That available in all good inter-planetary bookshops?”
“Of course,” giggled Donna, and for all its troubles the world seemed bright once more.
Next part
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna, various others
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 1,800
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: Hope you're still with me. We're over halfway there now! And it's not too late to catch up if you fell behind y'know *points shamelessly at linked parts below* :P
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Before they arrived at their destination, the Doctor made sure they were protected from the deadly pollen by setting the sonic screwdriver to a complicated, little-used setting and bleeping it first over her face and then his own.
“What’s that then?” Donna asked, curious.
“Something clever,” he replied, and she raised her eyebrows as if to say, “Try me.” He explained. “Remember I told you that the spores are faintly electromagnetic? Well, I’ve created an opposing magnetic field around your nose and mouth that’ll repel them. You see?”
She nodded, and at that moment the TARDIS landed. It was one of the rougher landings Donna had experienced, and they were both thrown to the ground. He helped her up, dusted her off and grabbed her hand to pull her outside excitedly.
They had materialised at the edge of the large field. What greeted their sight as they stepped outside was row upon row of golden flowers gently swaying in the breeze. Morning was just breaking, and the watery sunshine bravely cast its warmth on the pair.
Though they knew that these blooms were extremely dangerous, neither the Doctor nor Donna could help thinking that the endless bobbing flowers made a striking scene to behold. The sky was a pale blue that seemed fresh and hopeful. Tiny beads of dew clung to the yellow petals, glittering as they caught the light. A slight lump formed in Donna’s throat. The world was so beautiful at times, and it didn’t bear thinking about the prospect that it might not much longer be hers.
As if he had tapped into what she was thinking - and he hadn’t, actually, since he usually refrained from exercising any telepathic ability on Donna out of respect for her privacy - the Doctor put his arm around Donna’s shoulders and pulled her close.
“Come on then,” he said brightly. “These are definitely the Croën plants that are causing the trouble - I can taste the electromagnetism in the air. See that big warehouse-type place over there?” He pointed to a building in the distance, and she nodded. “That’s where we’re going. Worth looking around; this is the biggest patch of land that The Biofuel Corporation own and I reckon there’ll be something there to help us.”
They set off in that direction, holding hands just like they always had. “So,” said Donna, carefully picking her way through the flowers. “What have you been up to without me all year?”
The Doctor thought about all the times he’d spent battling through the dark places in his mind. The times he’d sat in the TARDIS garden staring at the brightly coloured fish in the bubbling depths of the stream there, and wishing he could live such a simple existence. The times he’d done nothing at all for hours, half wishing that if he were still for long enough, he could stop existing because it sounded less painful. No, she didn’t need to know about those times.
“Oh, you know,” he responded. “The usual. Rescued a few civilisations, got the Earth out of some tight spots, dealt with some aliens. Nothing extraordinary.” He grinned.
Donna smiled. “And there’s me doing the nine to five routine. Same old stuff, every day.” Her smile faltered. “The life… well, that you chose for me. When you took my memories. I was just Donna the average temp from Chiswick again. Not special in any way.”
Biting his lip, the Doctor looked sideways at her and guilt washed over him again. “You were always special, Donna,” he asserted earnestly. “But I had to take your memories, even though it tore me apart to do it - you would have died, and I was never, ever going to let that happen. I never stopped feeling guilty about it though. Never.”
“Did you never think,” Donna said, trying to keep an edge of bitterness out of her voice, “that it might have been better to just let me die, as I was, as the DoctorDonna - the best I’d ever been?”
“No,” the Doctor said. “No, I never doubted my decision. Even without my mind in yours, even before you met me, you were still brilliant. I knew when I left you that you had the potential to be brilliant again.”
Donna said nothing. At some point in the conversation, they had let go of one another’s hands. She wanted to cry for having ever brought up the subject and spoiled the moment. What had been a peaceful, wonderful time had now been ruined by resentful feelings, and the fact that their time together was limited made it all the more distressing.
She attempted to control her feelings, knowing that the Doctor’s decision had been a hard one and trying to understand that it was the only choice he could have lived with.
“So you carried on… all on your own?” she ventured.
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t find anyone else?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Did I put you off having company aboard the TARDIS forever?” she quipped, slightly nervously since he didn’t seem to be saying much. He just smiled distractedly, which did nothing to allay her fears.
She stopped, forcing him to stop too and look at her. “Doctor, please talk to me,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry I challenged you about wiping my mind. I just… I can’t help feeling like the life you sent me back to, after everything I’d seen - it was worse than death, to have all that taken away from me when I was someone before.” She realised she was probably making things worse, and turned away to endeavour to compose herself.
“You don’t have to justify how you feel; I’m not angry with you, Donna,” said the Doctor, catching hold of her arm and trying to reassure her. “You have every right to be livid with me, for not giving you a choice in your fate. I was just thinking - well, letting my imagination get the better of me, really. Imagining what would have happened if I’d listened to you and done nothing.” He stared ahead grimly. “So many scenes. Taking your body back to your family. Explaining. The questions - why didn’t you save her? Surely there was something you could have done? Why couldn’t you keep her safe? Then your funeral. And you gone, forever. That would have been the worst bit. At least this past year I’ve known that you’re out there, alive and well, and being quietly amazing still, even if the time when the whole universe rested on your shoulders was gone. Knowing that was the light in the endless dark for me. Don’t you see, Donna? It was selfish, in so many ways, and I’m so sorry. But… I’d still do it again.”
He fell silent once more, and somehow they found themselves in a close embrace, forgetting any previous hostility. Words had gone as far as they could, and now there was only the medium of touch to convey the unspoken emotions - forgiveness, remorse, sorrow, fear, and when they broke apart, the slight snag they’d felt in their easy companionship was healed. They walked on.
Donna was the first to break the stillness. “Do you remember what I told you the first time we parted ways, at Christmas?” she asked him.
He frowned. “Erm… something along the lines of, ‘No, Doctor, I’m not coming with you because you’re a planet-hopping lunatic alien who goes searching for danger, and you scare the hell out of me’?” he joked.
She hit him lightly. “Not that bit!”
He looked bemused. “What then?”
“I told you to find someone. Because you needed someone,” she said, fixing him with a pointed stare. “Why didn’t you find anybody after me?”
He sighed. “There have been people I’ve met,” he admitted. “Did you read about that double decker bus getting sucked through a wormhole? Flying metal stingrays?”
She nodded, and then groaned. “Oh, I might have guessed that was you. Typical.”
“Yep,” he said. “Well, I met this girl called Christina while it was all happening. And she wanted to come with me. But in the end… I said no. Because…” He paused, wondering whether to burden her by telling her all the things that had been running through his mind. He realised that he was tired of keeping it all inside him, and there was nobody better to talk to than his best friend. He drew a deep breath, and it all came out in a rush. “Everyone I touch ends up getting hurt and I can’t let anyone else suffer because of me. I’m a danger to people, and for the amount of people whose lives I’ve ruined, I don’t deserve anybody anyway.” he said firmly. “I’m hardly better than any of the enemies I despise for what they do. Look at what I’ve done to you.”
There was a raw pain in his voice, and his cheeks coloured a little after his outburst. Donna wanted nothing more than to gather him up in her arms and keep him safe from the universe. Not for the first time, she was reminded of how much weight he carried on his shoulders, and him beating himself up over the times when he couldn’t make absolutely everything okay was totally absurd, and heartbreaking.
“But Doctor,” she urged gently, “I wouldn’t have missed travelling with you for the world. Heck, what would I want with the world? - you’ve given me hundreds of new worlds! Don’t start thinking it would have been better if I’d never met you, because I don’t! You make people better. When I think about how I was when you first met me - I’d rather die now than live a thousand years like that, and you’d better believe me spaceman ’cos you really don’t want me to start dishing out the slaps!” A smile tugged at the Doctor’s mouth in spite of himself. “You never mean for things to go wrong, and that makes all the difference. Of course people die sometimes. Of course everything can’t turn out fine and dandy all of the time. But it isn’t your fault!”
The Doctor was struck by how amazing she was. How was it that she always knew exactly what to say? Here she was, with the very real possibility that she might not live to see another day, and she didn’t even blame him in the slightest.
Donna noted that he looked somewhat happier. Pleased, she turned her expression to one of mock sternness. “Oh, and as for putting yourself on a par with various evil villains you’ve fought, don’t flatter yourself, sunshine. You’re going to have to do a bit better than that if you want to be a bad guy. I suggest you start reading the Dalek Guide To Being An Intergalactic Arsehole or something.”
Suppressing a grin, the Doctor nodded seriously. “That available in all good inter-planetary bookshops?”
“Of course,” giggled Donna, and for all its troubles the world seemed bright once more.
Next part