Convergence [2/6]
Title:
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Bialar Crais, Donna Noble, guest appearences from various others
Timeline/spoilers: post-ITLD for Crais, pre-TEoT for Donna
Summary: Having survived the contained Starburst, Bialar Crais follows a strange transmission across the galaxy, only to find the source is Crichton's home planet... and a woman called Donna Noble.
One
Two: The Danger of Memory
Starburst brought Talyn to a system of nine planets. The source of the song seemed to emanate from the third from the yellow sun; a blue-green planet that seemed terribly familiar to Bialar as they closed in further.
“It had to be,” he sighed and rubbed at his forehead.
My sensors detect the creatures we encountered earlier. They’re in the upper atmosphere but descending rapidly.
“Then we are probably at the correct destination.” Bialar threw a switch and powered the engines down to minimum. “I believe if we maintain a position near the moon that we shall remain undetected. Crichton did say his planet was not technologically advanced. I will take the transport pod down and investigate further.”
Bialar, Talyn warned, the activity of the creatures has increased. I think… I think there is some risk to the population.
“In that case, I should go down now,” Bialar said and pulled his pulse pistol from its holster. The cartridge was a little low but…
I’m not certain that will be effective against them, Talyn advised. Their numbers are considerable. But I have a plan.
Bialar raised his eyebrows. “You have a plan?”
My scans have deduced how the creatures operate. They are not unlike a Leviathan in that they are biomechanical in nature, only a much simpler creation. A burst of electromagnetism should disable them.
“Should?” Bialar repeated, not liking the odds of that.
I’m fairly confident.
“I have no such weapon though.”
It’s not difficult to make, Talyn said. I have one of the DRDs recalibrating a hand-held scanner now. It should take no more than a tenth of an arn to complete.
Bialar had to smile. He patted the overhead structure.
“Well done, Talyn. Have the DRD board the transport pod. It can finish the adjustments as I fly down. I’d rather not waste any time.”
Turning on his heel, Bialar headed to his quarters. He dragged on his longcoat and tidied his hair, before going to the hanger bay. A DRD waited inside the rear of the transport pod, its little arms busy adapting the scanner. Leaving it to its work, he sat down in the pilot’s seat and powered up the engines, exiting the safety of the hanger and heading down to the planet.
Earth was all blue ocean and multi-coloured land. The variety in terrain surprised Bialar; most planets in Peacekeeper territory consisted of one or two types, but this one? There was ice at the poles and deserts and great areas of dense forest. It was, he decided, quite beautiful. In its own way.
The creatures he was following were headed to a small land mass adjacent to a larger one. Using the transponder, he accessed Talyn’s systems and scanned the island. Like the other lands, it was made up of a series of cities that didn’t particular seem to relate to one another, and it had a low level of technology. The temperature was borderline with what he found comfortable and it was raining.
Bialar wished he still had his hat.
~ ~ ~
Running was something one could only do so much of. After quarter of a mile, Donna got a stitch and slowed to a walk, panting hard between gritted teeth, a right hand fisted into the area above her hip in an attempt to ease the pain. She dug her other hand into a pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. Holding down 1, she auto-dialled her mother’s number.
“Donna,” Sylvia greeted.
“Mum? Mum, where are you?” There was a gabled reply, but there was too much background noise for Donna to make it out. “Mum, I can’t hear you.”
“We’re in the Bradford Arms. Lucy’s on the karaoke. Oh God, you should hear her!”
“I can hear her.” Donna winced at an off-note and then held the phone away from her ear as her mother’s cackling nearly deafened her. “Mum, look, just… stay there, okay?”
“What is it, Donna? What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”
“What? No, he’s okay. It’s nothing… nothing to worry about. Just stay there, though yeah? Stay inside.”
“Donna, you’re not making any sense.”
She sighed. Over the phone she heard someone call her mother’s name and raucous cheering. “You take your turn at the karaoke,” she told her mother. “I’ll be there in five minutes anyway.”
There was no sign of the Mummy Bugs returning. Donna shoved her mobile back into its pocket and walked. Then it started raining. She swore under her breath, having not even grabbed a coat, never mind her umbrella. She considered running again, but her side still ached and she didn’t honestly fancy more exercise. Grumbling to herself, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans and walked on, shoulders hunched.
The rain grew steadily harder. Donna was soon soaked through and shivered as it was cold. She lengthened her stride and focused on the warmth of the Bradford Arms and the nice boozy hot chocolate the staff did.
She looked up as thunder rumbled. The sky was a dull steel grey, the clouds heavy with rain. Thunder rumbled again, but there was no lightning. Perhaps it was higher in the clouds. A third rumble shook the windows of the nearby houses and Donna tensed, half-expecting another shower of glass.
Another rumble sounded, this time longer and more like the roar of an engine. She’d not heard any car like that though. She looked round suspiciously and then, despite her side, made a mad dash for the pub and relative safety.
~ ~ ~
In the parking area of a disused block of flats, a strange craft descended, the low rumble of its engines echoing off the breezeblock structures. It landed with a dull clang amongst a swirl of wet newspaper sheets and empty crisp packets.
A moment later, the hatch slid up and Bialar stepped out onto the surface of the one planet he’d always hoped he’d never have cause to visit.
But Earth was where the song had led him, so he supposed he’d just have to find out why. He could live with that; after all, it wasn’t like he was going to stay.
~ ~ ~
“What do you mean by bugs?” Sylvia crossed her arms and looked at her daughter. “What kind of bugs?”
“They were so big,” Donna motioned with her hands. “And they looked a bit like the ones off The Mummy.”
“She means scarabs,” Lucy said and took a swig of her G&T. Donna gave her a glare.
“It doesn’t matter what they’re called,” she said. “It matters what they want.”
“What’s that then?” demanded Lucy.
“I don’t know, do I? Could be anything. But what is anyone doing about them? It’s not on the news, there’s no police or anything.”
“So what? They’re bugs. What harm can they do?”
Sylvia was about to defend her daughter when there was the loud crack of splintering wood and the doors to the Bradford Arms shattered inwards. She stared in disbelief at the swarm of bugs that boiled through the opening.
Chairs scraped loudly on the floor as people scrambled to their feet, screaming and shouting. Lucy took one look and bolted for the loos. Sylvia turned to Donna, a horrible twisting sensation in her stomach. She wasn’t supposed to see things like this; they could spark other... memories. Memories that Sylvia did not want her daughter to remember, because they were dangerous.
Donna was staring at the chaotic crowd, a thoughtful frown on her face. Then she stood up.
Sylvia watched her in some concern. “Donna?”
But her daughter ignored the call and walked over to one wall of the pub. She paused, glanced over her shoulder, then shrugged and broke the glass of the fire alarm box. The siren wailed over the panic and the buzz of the bugs as they circled the room, drowning it in noise and then water as the sprinklers kicked in.
“Come on!” Donna yelled. “Everyone get out.”
For a moment, Sylvia could do nothing but sit and watch as Donna took control, ushering the panic-stricken pub goers to the exit. Then the bugs dived towards her daughter and Sylvia scrambled to her feet, pushing through the crowd to reach Donna’s side.
“Look out!”
A woman screamed as the stream buzzed down and past. The flyby ignited a further panic and the crowd became crushing as everyone tried to get out all at once. Sylvia grabbed Donna’s hand, but the pushing and shoving forced them apart again. And all the while the bugs were regrouping. Sylvia heard them coming. She shoved a woman out of her way.
“Donna!”
But Donna stood there, staring at the oncoming storm and seemingly incapable of moving as the swarm closed in.
“Donna! Get down!”
There was a sharp cracking sound, like gunfire. The people jamming the door screamed and fell back. Sylvia saw a black-coated man with dark hair and a gun in his hand. He grabbed Donna’s arm. A wordless cry tore from Sylvia’s throat, her mind immediately imagining the worst.
It didn’t get better. The man shouted something in a foreign language that no one seemed to understand. At least, no one moved. Sylvia couldn’t take her eyes off the gun in the man’s hand. He frowned and shoved it into a holster, then pulled out a small device. He drew Donna back and imposed himself between her and the bugs, raising the device.
There was no sound, no light, but Sylvia felt the hair on her arms prickle with static. The bugs stopped dead and then rained down, their bodies making a clatter as they hit chairs and tables and bounced onto the floor.
Sylvia stared at the carpet of blue-green bodies and then at the man. He bent down and picked one up, his expression cautious. His motion seemed to free up the rest of the pub goers and they surged out the door. She thought that was a good idea and headed for the exit. She grabbed Donna’s arm, but her daughter’s eyes were locked on the stranger and her expression was dangerously curious.
“Donna, come on.”
“But I want to know what those things are… were.”
The man glanced up, his dark eyes unfathomable. He said something indecipherable and Sylvia frowned.
“Whatever,” she muttered.
“Why me?”
It took her a moment to realise that Donna had addressed the man. He shrugged and said something else, something that she didn’t understand. But when she looked at Donna…
“Donna?” she said, a creeping sense of fear knotting her stomach. “Do you understand him?”
Her daughter gave her a bewildered look. “Of course I do. Why ever wouldn’t I?”
Oh God. Sylvia’s fingers went numb and she left go of Donna’s arm. She took several steps backwards, the fear mounting as she did so.
“Because…” She took a deep breath. “Because h-he’s not… not… speaking English.”
Sylvia understood little of how the Doctor’s time machine had worked, but one thing she did know; it had gotten in her daughter’s head and translated foreign languages. Alien languages. And if Donna understood, then the Time Lord Consciousness was reasserting itself.
Damn that Doctor! Sylvia thought viciously, blinking back tears as she hauled Donna out of the remains of the pub. Damn him for taking Donna away, for exposing her to the dangers of the universe.
And damn him for leaving her to pick up the pieces.
~ ~ ~
Donna followed her mother to the car, glancing over her shoulder as the car was unlocked it. Her hands shook from the shock of it all, but on a deeper level her curiosity stirred. She wanted to know why those bugs had come after her.
The dark-haired stranger had told her that he didn’t know. She had understood him perfectly, when no one else had. That still sent a chill down her spine, but the need to know was overpowering.
Her mother had gotten into the car and was putting on her seatbelt. Donna knew that she should get in, go home, and have a cup of tea. That was the safe thing to do, the normal thing… the only problem was that she was sick of normal. She backed away from the car.
“Donna! Get in the car!”
Turning away, Donna started back to the pub, determined to get some answers.
“Donna! Where are you going?”
She stopped and looked back. “Those things came straight at me, Mum. They were after me. I need to know why.”
Her mother looked panicked. “Please, Donna, just get in the car.”
Donna shook her head and backed further away.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Donna!”
“I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
Her mother looked as if she’d been slapped; horror washing over her face. Guilt spiked through Donna, but there was a momentum to her steps and she couldn’t stop now. She pushed through the throng that remained just outside the pub complaining loudly about compensation, and stumbled over the threshold.
He’d gone.
Donna swore and shoved her way back outside. She stared through the pouring rain and thought she saw a movement down the road. Ignoring her mother’s continued shouts, she walked past the pub to the alleyway that ran between the back and the next row of houses.
The narrow alley was rough tarmac with a drainage gully running down the middle and lit by three streetlamps with dirty round globes. The rain was a fine mist that blotted her view. She wiped droplets from her eyelashes and squinted, just making out the retreating dark figure ahead.
She jogged several steps to catch up and then stopped again when the thought that chasing a stranger down a badly-lit alley might not be the best idea occurred. Her hands fisted in frustration as she walked him walk away from her.
“Stop!”
Donna hadn’t really expected him to listen, so when he stopped and looked back, she was a little surprised. She blinked, not sure how to follow up on that. He stood under the streetlamp, his rain-drenched face lit by the light, and there was something in that so familiar… She could almost remember, as if it was a word stuck on the tip of her tongue.
“Stop,” she said again.
-"You can stop now."-
She could hear the sound of a radio, distant, yet somehow obliterating the patter of rain against the ground.
“It’s you.”
The voice was close and she looked up - when had her head dropped? - to see the man stood right in front of her. His expression was bewildered, and somewhat concerned. She stared up at him. His eyes were brown.
-Brown eyes over a sad smile. He took her hand. "John Smith."-
“I-I…” She stopped, not sure what it was she’d meant to say. The pain in her head blinded her ability to think. “What?”
“What the frell is that?”
Donna didn’t know… anything, really. She could see so much. The rain seemed to slow and she watched the droplets in fascination.
“It’s fantastic,” she whispered. Then she looked up, met those brown eyes, and she remembered. “Oh God.”
“It’s killing you,” he said and she nodded.
“It’s in my head. Everything and….” She took a shuddering breath. His expression was all sympathetic worry. He knew. She knew that he knew. Had to… “Help me. Please, help me.”
The world shifted and went dark. Donna fell forwards. But she didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms caught and held her and, just before the chaos inside her head grew too loud, she heard three words.
“I will try.”
On to part 3
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Bialar Crais, Donna Noble, guest appearences from various others
Timeline/spoilers: post-ITLD for Crais, pre-TEoT for Donna
Summary: Having survived the contained Starburst, Bialar Crais follows a strange transmission across the galaxy, only to find the source is Crichton's home planet... and a woman called Donna Noble.
One
Two: The Danger of Memory
Starburst brought Talyn to a system of nine planets. The source of the song seemed to emanate from the third from the yellow sun; a blue-green planet that seemed terribly familiar to Bialar as they closed in further.
“It had to be,” he sighed and rubbed at his forehead.
My sensors detect the creatures we encountered earlier. They’re in the upper atmosphere but descending rapidly.
“Then we are probably at the correct destination.” Bialar threw a switch and powered the engines down to minimum. “I believe if we maintain a position near the moon that we shall remain undetected. Crichton did say his planet was not technologically advanced. I will take the transport pod down and investigate further.”
Bialar, Talyn warned, the activity of the creatures has increased. I think… I think there is some risk to the population.
“In that case, I should go down now,” Bialar said and pulled his pulse pistol from its holster. The cartridge was a little low but…
I’m not certain that will be effective against them, Talyn advised. Their numbers are considerable. But I have a plan.
Bialar raised his eyebrows. “You have a plan?”
My scans have deduced how the creatures operate. They are not unlike a Leviathan in that they are biomechanical in nature, only a much simpler creation. A burst of electromagnetism should disable them.
“Should?” Bialar repeated, not liking the odds of that.
I’m fairly confident.
“I have no such weapon though.”
It’s not difficult to make, Talyn said. I have one of the DRDs recalibrating a hand-held scanner now. It should take no more than a tenth of an arn to complete.
Bialar had to smile. He patted the overhead structure.
“Well done, Talyn. Have the DRD board the transport pod. It can finish the adjustments as I fly down. I’d rather not waste any time.”
Turning on his heel, Bialar headed to his quarters. He dragged on his longcoat and tidied his hair, before going to the hanger bay. A DRD waited inside the rear of the transport pod, its little arms busy adapting the scanner. Leaving it to its work, he sat down in the pilot’s seat and powered up the engines, exiting the safety of the hanger and heading down to the planet.
Earth was all blue ocean and multi-coloured land. The variety in terrain surprised Bialar; most planets in Peacekeeper territory consisted of one or two types, but this one? There was ice at the poles and deserts and great areas of dense forest. It was, he decided, quite beautiful. In its own way.
The creatures he was following were headed to a small land mass adjacent to a larger one. Using the transponder, he accessed Talyn’s systems and scanned the island. Like the other lands, it was made up of a series of cities that didn’t particular seem to relate to one another, and it had a low level of technology. The temperature was borderline with what he found comfortable and it was raining.
Bialar wished he still had his hat.
~ ~ ~
Running was something one could only do so much of. After quarter of a mile, Donna got a stitch and slowed to a walk, panting hard between gritted teeth, a right hand fisted into the area above her hip in an attempt to ease the pain. She dug her other hand into a pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. Holding down 1, she auto-dialled her mother’s number.
“Donna,” Sylvia greeted.
“Mum? Mum, where are you?” There was a gabled reply, but there was too much background noise for Donna to make it out. “Mum, I can’t hear you.”
“We’re in the Bradford Arms. Lucy’s on the karaoke. Oh God, you should hear her!”
“I can hear her.” Donna winced at an off-note and then held the phone away from her ear as her mother’s cackling nearly deafened her. “Mum, look, just… stay there, okay?”
“What is it, Donna? What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”
“What? No, he’s okay. It’s nothing… nothing to worry about. Just stay there, though yeah? Stay inside.”
“Donna, you’re not making any sense.”
She sighed. Over the phone she heard someone call her mother’s name and raucous cheering. “You take your turn at the karaoke,” she told her mother. “I’ll be there in five minutes anyway.”
There was no sign of the Mummy Bugs returning. Donna shoved her mobile back into its pocket and walked. Then it started raining. She swore under her breath, having not even grabbed a coat, never mind her umbrella. She considered running again, but her side still ached and she didn’t honestly fancy more exercise. Grumbling to herself, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans and walked on, shoulders hunched.
The rain grew steadily harder. Donna was soon soaked through and shivered as it was cold. She lengthened her stride and focused on the warmth of the Bradford Arms and the nice boozy hot chocolate the staff did.
She looked up as thunder rumbled. The sky was a dull steel grey, the clouds heavy with rain. Thunder rumbled again, but there was no lightning. Perhaps it was higher in the clouds. A third rumble shook the windows of the nearby houses and Donna tensed, half-expecting another shower of glass.
Another rumble sounded, this time longer and more like the roar of an engine. She’d not heard any car like that though. She looked round suspiciously and then, despite her side, made a mad dash for the pub and relative safety.
~ ~ ~
In the parking area of a disused block of flats, a strange craft descended, the low rumble of its engines echoing off the breezeblock structures. It landed with a dull clang amongst a swirl of wet newspaper sheets and empty crisp packets.
A moment later, the hatch slid up and Bialar stepped out onto the surface of the one planet he’d always hoped he’d never have cause to visit.
But Earth was where the song had led him, so he supposed he’d just have to find out why. He could live with that; after all, it wasn’t like he was going to stay.
~ ~ ~
“What do you mean by bugs?” Sylvia crossed her arms and looked at her daughter. “What kind of bugs?”
“They were so big,” Donna motioned with her hands. “And they looked a bit like the ones off The Mummy.”
“She means scarabs,” Lucy said and took a swig of her G&T. Donna gave her a glare.
“It doesn’t matter what they’re called,” she said. “It matters what they want.”
“What’s that then?” demanded Lucy.
“I don’t know, do I? Could be anything. But what is anyone doing about them? It’s not on the news, there’s no police or anything.”
“So what? They’re bugs. What harm can they do?”
Sylvia was about to defend her daughter when there was the loud crack of splintering wood and the doors to the Bradford Arms shattered inwards. She stared in disbelief at the swarm of bugs that boiled through the opening.
Chairs scraped loudly on the floor as people scrambled to their feet, screaming and shouting. Lucy took one look and bolted for the loos. Sylvia turned to Donna, a horrible twisting sensation in her stomach. She wasn’t supposed to see things like this; they could spark other... memories. Memories that Sylvia did not want her daughter to remember, because they were dangerous.
Donna was staring at the chaotic crowd, a thoughtful frown on her face. Then she stood up.
Sylvia watched her in some concern. “Donna?”
But her daughter ignored the call and walked over to one wall of the pub. She paused, glanced over her shoulder, then shrugged and broke the glass of the fire alarm box. The siren wailed over the panic and the buzz of the bugs as they circled the room, drowning it in noise and then water as the sprinklers kicked in.
“Come on!” Donna yelled. “Everyone get out.”
For a moment, Sylvia could do nothing but sit and watch as Donna took control, ushering the panic-stricken pub goers to the exit. Then the bugs dived towards her daughter and Sylvia scrambled to her feet, pushing through the crowd to reach Donna’s side.
“Look out!”
A woman screamed as the stream buzzed down and past. The flyby ignited a further panic and the crowd became crushing as everyone tried to get out all at once. Sylvia grabbed Donna’s hand, but the pushing and shoving forced them apart again. And all the while the bugs were regrouping. Sylvia heard them coming. She shoved a woman out of her way.
“Donna!”
But Donna stood there, staring at the oncoming storm and seemingly incapable of moving as the swarm closed in.
“Donna! Get down!”
There was a sharp cracking sound, like gunfire. The people jamming the door screamed and fell back. Sylvia saw a black-coated man with dark hair and a gun in his hand. He grabbed Donna’s arm. A wordless cry tore from Sylvia’s throat, her mind immediately imagining the worst.
It didn’t get better. The man shouted something in a foreign language that no one seemed to understand. At least, no one moved. Sylvia couldn’t take her eyes off the gun in the man’s hand. He frowned and shoved it into a holster, then pulled out a small device. He drew Donna back and imposed himself between her and the bugs, raising the device.
There was no sound, no light, but Sylvia felt the hair on her arms prickle with static. The bugs stopped dead and then rained down, their bodies making a clatter as they hit chairs and tables and bounced onto the floor.
Sylvia stared at the carpet of blue-green bodies and then at the man. He bent down and picked one up, his expression cautious. His motion seemed to free up the rest of the pub goers and they surged out the door. She thought that was a good idea and headed for the exit. She grabbed Donna’s arm, but her daughter’s eyes were locked on the stranger and her expression was dangerously curious.
“Donna, come on.”
“But I want to know what those things are… were.”
The man glanced up, his dark eyes unfathomable. He said something indecipherable and Sylvia frowned.
“Whatever,” she muttered.
“Why me?”
It took her a moment to realise that Donna had addressed the man. He shrugged and said something else, something that she didn’t understand. But when she looked at Donna…
“Donna?” she said, a creeping sense of fear knotting her stomach. “Do you understand him?”
Her daughter gave her a bewildered look. “Of course I do. Why ever wouldn’t I?”
Oh God. Sylvia’s fingers went numb and she left go of Donna’s arm. She took several steps backwards, the fear mounting as she did so.
“Because…” She took a deep breath. “Because h-he’s not… not… speaking English.”
Sylvia understood little of how the Doctor’s time machine had worked, but one thing she did know; it had gotten in her daughter’s head and translated foreign languages. Alien languages. And if Donna understood, then the Time Lord Consciousness was reasserting itself.
Damn that Doctor! Sylvia thought viciously, blinking back tears as she hauled Donna out of the remains of the pub. Damn him for taking Donna away, for exposing her to the dangers of the universe.
And damn him for leaving her to pick up the pieces.
~ ~ ~
Donna followed her mother to the car, glancing over her shoulder as the car was unlocked it. Her hands shook from the shock of it all, but on a deeper level her curiosity stirred. She wanted to know why those bugs had come after her.
The dark-haired stranger had told her that he didn’t know. She had understood him perfectly, when no one else had. That still sent a chill down her spine, but the need to know was overpowering.
Her mother had gotten into the car and was putting on her seatbelt. Donna knew that she should get in, go home, and have a cup of tea. That was the safe thing to do, the normal thing… the only problem was that she was sick of normal. She backed away from the car.
“Donna! Get in the car!”
Turning away, Donna started back to the pub, determined to get some answers.
“Donna! Where are you going?”
She stopped and looked back. “Those things came straight at me, Mum. They were after me. I need to know why.”
Her mother looked panicked. “Please, Donna, just get in the car.”
Donna shook her head and backed further away.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Donna!”
“I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
Her mother looked as if she’d been slapped; horror washing over her face. Guilt spiked through Donna, but there was a momentum to her steps and she couldn’t stop now. She pushed through the throng that remained just outside the pub complaining loudly about compensation, and stumbled over the threshold.
He’d gone.
Donna swore and shoved her way back outside. She stared through the pouring rain and thought she saw a movement down the road. Ignoring her mother’s continued shouts, she walked past the pub to the alleyway that ran between the back and the next row of houses.
The narrow alley was rough tarmac with a drainage gully running down the middle and lit by three streetlamps with dirty round globes. The rain was a fine mist that blotted her view. She wiped droplets from her eyelashes and squinted, just making out the retreating dark figure ahead.
She jogged several steps to catch up and then stopped again when the thought that chasing a stranger down a badly-lit alley might not be the best idea occurred. Her hands fisted in frustration as she walked him walk away from her.
“Stop!”
Donna hadn’t really expected him to listen, so when he stopped and looked back, she was a little surprised. She blinked, not sure how to follow up on that. He stood under the streetlamp, his rain-drenched face lit by the light, and there was something in that so familiar… She could almost remember, as if it was a word stuck on the tip of her tongue.
“Stop,” she said again.
-"You can stop now."-
She could hear the sound of a radio, distant, yet somehow obliterating the patter of rain against the ground.
“It’s you.”
The voice was close and she looked up - when had her head dropped? - to see the man stood right in front of her. His expression was bewildered, and somewhat concerned. She stared up at him. His eyes were brown.
-Brown eyes over a sad smile. He took her hand. "John Smith."-
“I-I…” She stopped, not sure what it was she’d meant to say. The pain in her head blinded her ability to think. “What?”
“What the frell is that?”
Donna didn’t know… anything, really. She could see so much. The rain seemed to slow and she watched the droplets in fascination.
“It’s fantastic,” she whispered. Then she looked up, met those brown eyes, and she remembered. “Oh God.”
“It’s killing you,” he said and she nodded.
“It’s in my head. Everything and….” She took a shuddering breath. His expression was all sympathetic worry. He knew. She knew that he knew. Had to… “Help me. Please, help me.”
The world shifted and went dark. Donna fell forwards. But she didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms caught and held her and, just before the chaos inside her head grew too loud, she heard three words.
“I will try.”
On to part 3