The road less travelled...

Title: The Next Doctor and Donna 7/7
Author: katherine_b
Characters/Pairing: The Doctor (Ten), Donna, the next Doctor, Rosita
Rating: G
Spoilers: Everything in The Next Doctor and some things for NuWho S4.

Part VII

Donna feeds yet another piece of rope through her hands, sonicing the end to the previous piece, gradually letting the balloon waft ever higher.

She refuses to look up.

She can hear the words spoken by the woman in the CyberKing, and the Doctor’s emotions are so strong in her mind – fury and frustration and the ache he always feels when he’s dispensing justice – that it’s almost as if she’s up there with him.

“Is that winch all right, Jed?” she asks to distract herself.

“Right as rain, Miss,” he assures her, staring up at the battle above their heads.

“At least look at it before you answer the question,” she snaps, and he jumps.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he murmurs, giving the lever a half-turn and tugging on the rope to make sure it won’t come loose.

You make me into this.

Donna looks up in the instant before the Doctor activates the infostamps and watches as the beam is directed into the mouth of the CyberKing.

No, she thinks sadly, wishing he could hear her. That’s not what you are, Doctor. Why do you let them get to you like this?

And then the air is filled with the sound of screaming and she watches as the giant machine begins shaking itself apart.

“Is it dying then?” Jed roars in her ear.

“He killed it,” she tells him.

“Look out, Miss,” Jed bellows as several small parts fly in their direction with deadly speed. However Donna won’t let Jed pull her into the safety of the stable.

“We have to get the Doctor down,” she yells at him. “If one of those pieces punctures the balloon…”

She suppresses a shudder and begins desperately turning the winch, but then hears a faint whooping sound, like the noise the TARDIS makes when it’s travelling through time, and looks up to see the CyberKing stumble back and forth, encased in a wave of what looks like the time vortex.

“It’s gonna fall!” Jed screams in obvious terror.

“Keep going,” she urges, but then there’s a blip and sudden silence.

She looks up to see the grin on Jed’s face.

“He did it,” he cheers, pulling her into a hug.

But she can only look up into the sky at the balloon with a smile.

“Yes,” she agrees softly. “Yes, he did.”

* * *
The Doctor looks down, about to snatch up the dimension vault again, even though he knows it won’t have had time to recharge, when he realises that the basket is nearer the ground than he expected – clearly Donna is bringing him down – and that people aren’t screaming.

They’re cheering.

Waving, too.

At him.

Oh, how awful!

He can see Jackson at the centre of it, waving and cheering like a madman. And he does what he knows he has to – waves and smiles in return.

Donna, he thinks desperately, hoping she picks up on his thoughts. If you ever loved me at all, get me out of here! I'd rather face all my enemies combined than go through this!

He hears a sound like the echo of Donna’s laughter in his ears and peers over the edge to see the ground slowly approaching.

“Jed!” he hears Donna call, as he gets close enough to the ground to make sense of individual words. “Get over here and help me!”

“Yes, ma’am,” comes the immediate reply and he gives a tired chuckle. Jed’s clearly learned that it’s always a good idea to obey Donna!

He looks around as the basket is only a few metres off the ground and sees that Donna has made a winch with various pieces of equipment in the yard. She and Jed are working to bring the balloon to the ground, and he releases gas to help them. Finally the basket hits the ground, bounces up a few inches and comes to rest.

Donna and Jed are on either side of the basket when it stops and they fling in sandbags so that it doesn’t take off again. He scrambles out on Donna’s side, almost falls on his face, but then recovers and pulls her into a hug.

She drops the sandbag and throws her arms around him in return. He straightens as the hug lingers, feeling as if some of her vitality is seeping into his own tired body and helping him to regain his lost energy.

“If I ever loved you, huh?” she murmurs with a chuckle, her hands rubbing his back. “That’s one heck of an assumption, chum!”

He grins. “Wondered if you’d hear that.”

“Considering you were all but yelling it in the back of my mind, I didn’t have much choice,” she retorts, finally releasing her hold. “Oh,” she fishes in her pocket and produces the sonic screwdriver, “here.”

“Thanks.”

He takes it from her and slides it into the pocket where it belongs. Then, as Jackson appears in the doorway of the yard, he takes Donna’s hand and they walk over to where a small crowd is gathering.

“You did it, Doctor!” Jackson shouts gleefully.

The Doctor smiles. He can’t be angry with Jackson, who can’t possibly understand how much the Doctor dislikes acknowledgement, because it only serves to enhance his feelings of guilt at having destroyed lives.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Jackson,” he says, and sees the other man’s eyes light up with joy.

“Well, I only provided the means,” he offers humbly, and the Doctor can’t help thinking that Jackson Lake is a very different person from the Next Doctor. “How was she?” he asks, and the Doctor is baffled for a moment before realising that Jackson is looking over his shoulder at the balloon.

“Oh, a dream,” he says immediately. “Glorious! You really ought to take a trip in her. Soon. You and your son, perhaps. Just,” he glances at Donna with a grin, “make sure you’ve got someone on the ground to get you down again.”

“I certainly will,” Jackson says heartily, clapping Jed on the shoulder.

The Doctor looks around to find that the crowd is dispersing. He takes Donna’s hand and nods slightly in the direction of the TARDIS – his TARDIS. She nods, sliding her other hand into the pocket of her coat and sinking her chin into the fur lining of her coat. It’s only at that moment that the Doctor realises the snow is getting heavier.

They enter the stables and the Doctor looks around at the various cases. “Will you take all this to your house?” he asks Jackson. “Begin to settle in?”

“Frederick will need a home – certainly somewhere better than a stable,” comes the ready reply. “This place has been very good to me, though. It’s been a home of sorts. And we certainly can’t lose the TARDIS. I’ll investigate purchasing the land.”

“Good idea,” Donna remarks, before stifling a yawn.

The Doctor tugs gently on her hand. “Come on then,” he says fondly. “Back to the TARDIS. That is,” he glances at Jackson with a smile, “my TARDIS.”

“Oh, you have to tell me.” Jackson’s expression is eager. “What does it stand for? Properly, I mean. Not what I made up.”

“Time And Relative Dimension In Space,” comes the simultaneous reply from the Doctor and Donna. He looks at her in surprise.

“When did you…? Did I tell you that?”

She squeezes his hand. “Rose. Parallel world. Just remembered it this minute.”

“You really are a very odd man,” Jackson says with a laugh. “Both of you, in fact.”

By now they are strolling through the almost empty streets. Faint streaks of light are beginning to tint the sky as the sun prepares to rise.

“The city will recover, as London always does,” Jackson says with a half-smile. “Though the events of today will be history, spoken of for centuries to come.”

“Yeah,” Donna offers, somewhat mockingly.

“Funny that,” the Doctor remarks, and they exchange meaningful grins.

“Well,” Jackson says, stopping and turning to the Doctor, “a new history begins for me. I find myself a widower, but with my son.”

He glances over his shoulder, as does the Doctor, who notices for the first time that Rosita and Jed, with Frederick, have followed them.

“And with a good friend,” Jackson adds fondly, as Rosita urges Frederick to wave.

“Now, take care of that one,” the Doctor urges him. “She's marvellous.”

“Frederick will need a nursemaid and I can think of none better,” he tells them, and the Doctor sees Donna’s eyebrows dart upwards.

“No,” he warns her, so quietly that Jackson won’t hear. “Not a word. Time and a place, Donna. This isn’t it.”

Even as she gives a slight nod in reply, Jackson speaks again.

“But you're welcome to join us,” he urges. “We thought we might all dine together at the Traveller's Halt. Christmas feast in celebration.” He hesitates and swallows hard. “And in memory of those we've lost.”

There’s a long moment of silence. The Doctor has turned away from both Donna and Jackson. He hates these sorts of invitations. They always remind him of that first Christmas in this body, with Rose. Besides, he really doesn’t do domestic.

“You won't stay,” Jackson sighs, clearly understanding his wordless reply.

The Doctor musters a tiny smile. “Nothing to say, you know me.”

He gently tugs Donna forward, wanting nothing more than to be closer to the TARDIS, which is humming a soft greeting in his mind.

“No, I don't think anyone does,” Jackson says, and the Doctor frowns, not entirely sure what he means.

“Some people know him,” Donna says. “At least, as much as he lets them.”

But then they come in sight of the familiar blue box, and, although the Doctor tucks the comment away in his mind for later consideration, Jackson is immediately distracted.

“Oh! And this is it!” he exclaims eagerly. “Ah! Oh, if I might, Doctor.” He turns a pleading face on the other man. “One last adventure!”

“Oh!” The Doctor fishes the key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, pushing it open as he says, “Be my guest!”

He steps back and allows the other man in, taking Donna’s hand as they follow him into the TARDIS. They exchange grins at Jackson’s somewhat incoherent exclamation.

“Oh!” He steps forward towards the console. “Oh, my word!”

The Doctor's grin widens. Although he might sometimes get a little tired of the old ‘it’s bigger on the inside’ cry, he loves seeing reactions to his ship.

“Oh,” Jackson exclaims again. “Oh, goodness me!” He glances over his shoulder at the Doctor and then back at the rotor. “Wh – ” and he laughs wildly. “ But this is…”

“Wonderful?” Donna suggests.

“Nonsense!”

The Doctor can’t help the hurt look he knows is crossing his face. “Well,” he says slowly, “that’s one word for it.”

Donna pulls their clasped hands into her pocket and rubs his arm comfortingly.

Jackson, however, ignores them and laughs again. “Complete and utter wonderful nonsense,” he goes on, and the Doctor relaxes as he realises that it wasn’t meant as an insult.

He lets himself smile again.

“Oh,” Jackson goes on. “Very, very silly! Oh!” and he reaches out for the buttons on the console.

The Doctor moves forward, concerned about what could happen if he presses the wrong thing, but then Jackson steps back, his hands lifting to his temples. “Oh, no,” he cries. “I can’t bear it!”

“Are you all right?” Donna asks quickly.

“Oh, it’s causing my head to ache,” he tells her, turning away from the console and actually running past them down the ramp and outside. “Nope. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

He stops and turns as Donna steps back out of the TARDIS with the Doctor following her.

“Oh, my gracious!” Jackson cries. “That’s quite enough!”

The Doctor chuckles and closes the door. He smiles at Donna, who grins back at him. However the smile fades as he turns back to Jackson, who is watching them both and, when he speaks, sounds serious, almost sad.

“I take it this is goodbye.”

For once the Doctor is almost reluctant to leave. He’s become fond of this rather odd man who took his place for a while. However he knows better than to give in to those feelings.

“Onwards and upwards,” he says briskly, trying to smile again.

“Tell me one thing,” Jackson says, looking from the Doctor to Donna and then back again. “All those facts and figures I saw of the Doctor's life, you were never alone.”

The Doctor smiles properly, squeezing Donna’s hand. “No,” he agrees softly, thinking back through the years and all of the special – amazing – brilliant people who have travelled with him. “No, I wasn’t.”

“All those bright and shining companions,” Jackson continues, as if reading his thoughts. “People who mean everything to you – and for whom you mean the world and more – and yet, time after time, you risk your life, sometimes their lives, to save people you don’t know and will never meet. Might I ask – why?”

He shrugs awkwardly, looking away, fixing his eyes on the falling snow. For only the second time since they arrived here, he wishes Donna wasn’t beside him. He can feel her hand tense in his and knows that they are both thinking back to the times when he did just what Jackson is describing.

Although the most obvious examples are the Sontarans and their time in the Library, he knows that Donna’s never been safe when she travelled with him. Perhaps that was why she refused to go in the first instance. Why she demanded to go home when they were on the Oodsphere.

His head lifts slightly, guilt gnawing in the pit of his stomach. It’s not just Donna, though, and he knows it. Others have died, for him and around him, ever since he first fled from Gallifrey. Tears, strange and foreign, prickle in the back of his eyes.

He’s felt like this before, of course. Most recently in the Crucible.

Before he can speak, though, perhaps to defend himself, or to contradict the other man – he’s not really sure – another voice breaks the agonising silence.

“Because,” Donna says, in a tone that echoes, even though she speaks softly, “we choose to.”

He turns to look at her so quickly that his neck hurts.

The Doctor, at least, understands the possible multiple meanings of Donna’s sentence. She’s not just talking about the choice he makes of facing possible death to give those who threaten lives a chance to redeem themselves. She also means that every single person who has or will travel with him makes the choice of accepting his invitation, well aware of what it could mean, how final it might be. And no one is more aware of that than Donna.

She turns to Jackson, but tightens her grip on the Doctor’s hand so much that it’s almost too tight.

Almost.

“All those people who travel with him become something of what he is.” Her lips curl into the faintest smile. “Some people might call us weapons. Some might even try to call us murderers. But if you give people the chance, if you try to make them realise what they’ve become, then, if they still refuse to listen, if they still won’t see what they are – well, then you can’t be held responsible.”

“When you say ‘us’,” Jackson asks in puzzles tones, “who…?”

“I mean everyone.” She nods at him. “Even yourself, Jackson. We all become part of the Doctor, even if it means paying the ultimate sacrifice. And we all know that that might happen.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

The Doctor blinks to clear his vision, which is suddenly misty, and swallows a painful lump in his throat. He’s never heard Donna speak like that before.

“That offer of Christmas dinner,” Jackson tells them authoritatively, “is no longer a request, it's a demand.”

“In memory of those we've lost,” Donna echoes softly, stroking the Doctor’s hand with her thumb.

There’s another silence, which the Doctor finally breaks. “Brr, aw, go on then,” he says in an attempt at heartiness and his usual tones.

Jackson’s face lights up as brightly as if the sun had suddenly risen. “Really?”

“Just this once.” The Doctor laughs. “You've - you've actually gone and changed my mind. Not many people can do that.”

“Oh, I think I know at least one person who can, if she puts her mind to it,” Jackson says slyly, glancing at Donna.

The Doctor steps forward and claps him on the shoulder. “Jackson, if anyone had to be the Doctor, I'm glad it was you.”

Jackson gestures with his hand in the direction of the market. “The feast awaits. Come. With me.”

Turning, the Doctor pulls the TARDIS door properly closed and then gently draws Donna’s arm through his.

“Walk this way,” Jackson tells them.

“We certainly will,” the Doctor agrees.

Jackson laughs in delight as they head back out into the snow.

“Merry Christmas to you, Jackson!” the Doctor says cheerfully as the church clock chimes a new hour.

“Merry Christmas indeed, Doctor!” Jackson agrees, stooping to scoop his son up into his arms as the boy runs across to them.

The Doctor looks down at Donna, who is smiling as she watches the scene. He lifts her hand to his lips and lightly kisses her fingers. “Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, and she smiles up at him, clasping his arm a little tighter as they follow the others into the Traveller’s Halt.

Links to earlier parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6