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Title: If You Knew Your Future… Chapter 4
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katherine_b
Characters/Pairing: The Doctor (Ten) and Donna
Rating: G
Spoilers: All of series four of NuWho
Summary: Donna wakes up to find herself in a world that is much too familiar.
A/N: Tissues. Seriously. Stop reading this and go and get some. You’ll need them. Promise. And maybe something to drink. And perhaps a small, fluffy toy to hug. Or a pet. Pets are good. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
Chapter 4 – Death For The Most Faithful Companion
“Whatever happens to people from now on,” the Doctor warns as the TARDIS flies through the vortex, “if anyone dies or is injured by whatever’s going on here, it’s your fault.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on the monitor, Donna suspects, because he can’t bring himself to look at her.
She nods. “I know,” she says softly, and then, “Do you think I’ve thought of anything else since I found myself here with you again?”
And now, when he finally, he looks at her, his expression is similar to the moment in Pompeii when they were about to set off the eruption of Vesuvius. Except that, this time, their positions are reversed. The appalled horror in his eyes is the same as she imagines was in her own on that day.
She can understand his feelings.
This time she’s the one with all the knowledge and he’s doing his best to manage with what he can work out from their surroundings.
It’s not much, while she knows everything, and that’s why he’s so frustrated.
But the look of disgust on his face almost breaks her heart.
It nearly kills her to walk across to the console, but she makes herself do it. His shoulders are hunched and his head is down, but he watches her out of the corner of his eye.
“What?”
“Doctor,” she places a hand on his shoulder, “you know all those stories you’ve told me about Gallifrey?” She can feel him tense under her hand, but she continues regardless. “How it burned and you’re the only one left? All those times you’ve told me about the orange skies and the silver trees and the crystal domes?”
She stops and waits, watching for the minute nod of his head.
“Then how would you feel,” she asks softly, trying not to let the tears she feels burning the back of her eyes choke her, “if you knew it was all about to end – and you couldn’t do anything to save it?”
Donna closes her eyes, but it’s too late and a tear slips down her cheek. Her hand slides down from the Doctor’s shoulder, and then his arms are around her and he’s holding her against him as she sobs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her ear. “So sorry. I never – I didn’t think about what this meant to you. I should have, but I couldn’t get past… Donna, I just want to help.”
“I know.” She reaches up to wipe the tears off her cheeks, and then looks up into his dark eyes, which at this moment are soft and full of compassion. She gulps down her tears and continues, “Doctor, this is nearly killing me. Believe me, I want to tell you, to save them. Right now I know who’s going to die, and how. I know what it must be like for you, with all your knowledge of time and space. And I know that I can’t – I mustn’t – tell you anything.”
He’s about to speak when the TARDIS beeps to let them know that they’ve arrived. And there’s not another moment to continue the conversation until they’re at the Shadow Proclamation, for which Donna is grateful. But when she reminds him about Pyrovillia being another of the missing planets, she can see in his eyes that he realises she’s giving him all the help she can and so he argues more fervently with the Shadow Architect about its importance than he did before.
The heartbeat in her ears sounds more like a clock relentlessly ticking away the seconds of her time in this place.
“You are something new,” the albino servant tells her, and Donna knows that the Doctor has heard the words, too. They exchange meaningful glances and he pays more attention to her comment about the bees than the other version of him did, the last time they went through this.
And when they get to the end of the Tandocca Trail in the Medusa Cascade, she doesn’t beg him to keep looking.
She just takes his hand and waits for the call to come through that will signify the beginning of the end.
* * *
The pain is already starting as Donna closes the door of the TARDIS, blocking out the sight of Rose and the half-human Doctor on the beach at Darlig Ulv Stranden. Last time, when this happened, she didn’t notice the ache in her head until it was too late, but now she can feel every second slipping away. The Doctor is sending the TARDIS into the vortex, but he doesn’t look up as her footsteps crash on the grating.
She doesn’t need to have a telepathic connection to feel the emotions radiating from him.
“Doctor,” she says softly, stopping on the far side of the console, just as she did in Pompeii. “Please. Look at me.”
“Keep away,” he snarls, his hands curling around the edges of the console. “I don’t – no, Donna. No!”
His fists slam onto the desk, causing sparks to fly out of the maltreated machine. His shoulders are hunched and his head is shaking very slightly as if he’s trying to deny to himself the knowledge of what is about to happen.
“Doctor…” she begins, but falls silent when he finally turns his gaze on her.
It’s the look she’s seen him give to one enemy after another. The fact that it’s turned on her now makes her more frightened than she’s ever been in her life before.
Like a raging storm in that terrifying instant of hesitation before it breaks.
And yet his voice is calm. Deadly calm.
Just like when he spoke to the Empress of the Racnoss, and Matron Cofelia, and General Cobb, and Davros.
And that only makes it worse.
“You’ve always known this was going to happen.”
She nods, the pain making her slightly dizzy. “Of course.”
His eyes are as sad as when the other Doctor took away her memories last time. But they’re not empty, the way his were, because there’s rage gleaming from them. Boiling anger. At her. And only one phrase works its way out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did he apologise?” Suddenly the Doctor is standing in front of her, looming over her, trembling with fury, the ferocity building in his voice so that now he’s shouting at the full pitch of his lungs. “Did he apologise before he took it all away?”
“So often.” She can feel tears pricking her eyes at the memory of that other goodbye. “With every single word.”
And then he turns away.
“No – I won’t do it! I won’t be like him. I won’t!”
She goes to grab his hand, but her co-ordination is failing now and she misses, as the first tears spill down her cheeks.
“Doctor – I can’t do it myself.”
“I won’t!”
“You have to!” She finally manages to grab his sleeve, feeling that familiar fabric between her fingers, rubbing it as if desperate not to lose the memory of that sensation. “Doctor – you know you have to.”
“No!”
He steps forward, shaking her off.
“Then,” she feels a sudden and dreadful sense of finality, “I’m going to die.”
She stares at his unmoving back, her overloaded brain sending out frantic shafts of pain through her whole body as it attempts to cope. She can feel her heart beating far too fast in her chest and wonders whether that will give in first. Her lungs are burning, but that’s because she’s gasping for breath as tears course down her cheeks.
And she turns away.
The white doors of the TARDIS gleam blurrily in front of her.
She wonders idly whether death would be painless if she opened them and threw herself into the Vortex.
It’s as she goes to move forward that she realises she’s standing on the exact same spot where she first appeared in the TARDIS.
It feels like lifetimes ago.
She lifts her foot off the floor to take the first step towards the door, and at that same instant the muscles in her legs fail completely.
She crumbles, but the Doctor is there to catch her before she can hit the floor.
“Donna.”
The word is a whisper against her hair as he lowers her gently, lovingly, to the floor of the TARDIS. Her head is in his lap, his fingers stroking the tear marks off her face.
She’s almost beside herself with pain, and yet somehow she manages to reach up and grasp his hand.
“Please,” she whispers, holding it against her chest so that he can feel her heart beginning to falter. “Please.”
She never imagined that she would have to beg him to save her life.
“Doctor….”
He eases his hand out of her hold and touches his index finger to her lips, silencing her. A cold droplet falls onto her cheek and he takes one last look into her eyes before pressing his fingers to her temples.
As pain causes her muscles to spasm and the world goes black, she wonders if, this time, it’s too late.
* * *
Note: graphic header made by the incomparably talentednschick. I know, it only made things worse, didn't it?
Next Part
Links to previous parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (the sad one)
Author:
katherine_bCharacters/Pairing: The Doctor (Ten) and Donna
Rating: G
Spoilers: All of series four of NuWho
Summary: Donna wakes up to find herself in a world that is much too familiar.
A/N: Tissues. Seriously. Stop reading this and go and get some. You’ll need them. Promise. And maybe something to drink. And perhaps a small, fluffy toy to hug. Or a pet. Pets are good. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
Chapter 4 – Death For The Most Faithful Companion
“Whatever happens to people from now on,” the Doctor warns as the TARDIS flies through the vortex, “if anyone dies or is injured by whatever’s going on here, it’s your fault.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on the monitor, Donna suspects, because he can’t bring himself to look at her.
She nods. “I know,” she says softly, and then, “Do you think I’ve thought of anything else since I found myself here with you again?”
And now, when he finally, he looks at her, his expression is similar to the moment in Pompeii when they were about to set off the eruption of Vesuvius. Except that, this time, their positions are reversed. The appalled horror in his eyes is the same as she imagines was in her own on that day.
She can understand his feelings.
This time she’s the one with all the knowledge and he’s doing his best to manage with what he can work out from their surroundings.
It’s not much, while she knows everything, and that’s why he’s so frustrated.
But the look of disgust on his face almost breaks her heart.
It nearly kills her to walk across to the console, but she makes herself do it. His shoulders are hunched and his head is down, but he watches her out of the corner of his eye.
“What?”
“Doctor,” she places a hand on his shoulder, “you know all those stories you’ve told me about Gallifrey?” She can feel him tense under her hand, but she continues regardless. “How it burned and you’re the only one left? All those times you’ve told me about the orange skies and the silver trees and the crystal domes?”
She stops and waits, watching for the minute nod of his head.
“Then how would you feel,” she asks softly, trying not to let the tears she feels burning the back of her eyes choke her, “if you knew it was all about to end – and you couldn’t do anything to save it?”
Donna closes her eyes, but it’s too late and a tear slips down her cheek. Her hand slides down from the Doctor’s shoulder, and then his arms are around her and he’s holding her against him as she sobs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her ear. “So sorry. I never – I didn’t think about what this meant to you. I should have, but I couldn’t get past… Donna, I just want to help.”
“I know.” She reaches up to wipe the tears off her cheeks, and then looks up into his dark eyes, which at this moment are soft and full of compassion. She gulps down her tears and continues, “Doctor, this is nearly killing me. Believe me, I want to tell you, to save them. Right now I know who’s going to die, and how. I know what it must be like for you, with all your knowledge of time and space. And I know that I can’t – I mustn’t – tell you anything.”
He’s about to speak when the TARDIS beeps to let them know that they’ve arrived. And there’s not another moment to continue the conversation until they’re at the Shadow Proclamation, for which Donna is grateful. But when she reminds him about Pyrovillia being another of the missing planets, she can see in his eyes that he realises she’s giving him all the help she can and so he argues more fervently with the Shadow Architect about its importance than he did before.
The heartbeat in her ears sounds more like a clock relentlessly ticking away the seconds of her time in this place.
“You are something new,” the albino servant tells her, and Donna knows that the Doctor has heard the words, too. They exchange meaningful glances and he pays more attention to her comment about the bees than the other version of him did, the last time they went through this.
And when they get to the end of the Tandocca Trail in the Medusa Cascade, she doesn’t beg him to keep looking.
She just takes his hand and waits for the call to come through that will signify the beginning of the end.
The pain is already starting as Donna closes the door of the TARDIS, blocking out the sight of Rose and the half-human Doctor on the beach at Darlig Ulv Stranden. Last time, when this happened, she didn’t notice the ache in her head until it was too late, but now she can feel every second slipping away. The Doctor is sending the TARDIS into the vortex, but he doesn’t look up as her footsteps crash on the grating.
She doesn’t need to have a telepathic connection to feel the emotions radiating from him.
“Doctor,” she says softly, stopping on the far side of the console, just as she did in Pompeii. “Please. Look at me.”
“Keep away,” he snarls, his hands curling around the edges of the console. “I don’t – no, Donna. No!”
His fists slam onto the desk, causing sparks to fly out of the maltreated machine. His shoulders are hunched and his head is shaking very slightly as if he’s trying to deny to himself the knowledge of what is about to happen.
“Doctor…” she begins, but falls silent when he finally turns his gaze on her.
It’s the look she’s seen him give to one enemy after another. The fact that it’s turned on her now makes her more frightened than she’s ever been in her life before.
Like a raging storm in that terrifying instant of hesitation before it breaks.
And yet his voice is calm. Deadly calm.
Just like when he spoke to the Empress of the Racnoss, and Matron Cofelia, and General Cobb, and Davros.
And that only makes it worse.
“You’ve always known this was going to happen.”
She nods, the pain making her slightly dizzy. “Of course.”
His eyes are as sad as when the other Doctor took away her memories last time. But they’re not empty, the way his were, because there’s rage gleaming from them. Boiling anger. At her. And only one phrase works its way out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did he apologise?” Suddenly the Doctor is standing in front of her, looming over her, trembling with fury, the ferocity building in his voice so that now he’s shouting at the full pitch of his lungs. “Did he apologise before he took it all away?”
“So often.” She can feel tears pricking her eyes at the memory of that other goodbye. “With every single word.”
And then he turns away.
“No – I won’t do it! I won’t be like him. I won’t!”
She goes to grab his hand, but her co-ordination is failing now and she misses, as the first tears spill down her cheeks.
“Doctor – I can’t do it myself.”
“I won’t!”
“You have to!” She finally manages to grab his sleeve, feeling that familiar fabric between her fingers, rubbing it as if desperate not to lose the memory of that sensation. “Doctor – you know you have to.”
“No!”
He steps forward, shaking her off.
“Then,” she feels a sudden and dreadful sense of finality, “I’m going to die.”
She stares at his unmoving back, her overloaded brain sending out frantic shafts of pain through her whole body as it attempts to cope. She can feel her heart beating far too fast in her chest and wonders whether that will give in first. Her lungs are burning, but that’s because she’s gasping for breath as tears course down her cheeks.
And she turns away.
The white doors of the TARDIS gleam blurrily in front of her.
She wonders idly whether death would be painless if she opened them and threw herself into the Vortex.
It’s as she goes to move forward that she realises she’s standing on the exact same spot where she first appeared in the TARDIS.
It feels like lifetimes ago.
She lifts her foot off the floor to take the first step towards the door, and at that same instant the muscles in her legs fail completely.
She crumbles, but the Doctor is there to catch her before she can hit the floor.
“Donna.”
The word is a whisper against her hair as he lowers her gently, lovingly, to the floor of the TARDIS. Her head is in his lap, his fingers stroking the tear marks off her face.
She’s almost beside herself with pain, and yet somehow she manages to reach up and grasp his hand.
“Please,” she whispers, holding it against her chest so that he can feel her heart beginning to falter. “Please.”
She never imagined that she would have to beg him to save her life.
“Doctor….”
He eases his hand out of her hold and touches his index finger to her lips, silencing her. A cold droplet falls onto her cheek and he takes one last look into her eyes before pressing his fingers to her temples.
As pain causes her muscles to spasm and the world goes black, she wonders if, this time, it’s too late.
Note: graphic header made by the incomparably talented
nschick. I know, it only made things worse, didn't it?Next Part
Links to previous parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (the sad one)
lonely
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