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Title: If You Knew Your Future… Chapter 8/12
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.
Chapter VIII – Responsibilities
“So where to next?” Donna demands as they re-enter the TARDIS.
The Doctor removes his duster and throws it over the jumpseat. However, although he takes his places at the controls of the TARDIS, he doesn’t push any buttons or enter any co-ordinates. Instead he only gives a shrug.
“I don’t know. We’ve been everywhere that I went on my own.”
“Really?” Donna looks at him in surprise, because they’ve only visited four destinations since they left Jackson Lake in Victorian England. “I thought there would have been more places to go, considering how long I was gone.”
He remains silent, sending the TARDIS into the vortex, but not meeting her gaze. And then, suddenly, Donna understands.
“Which room, Doctor?”
He looks up at her now in obvious confusion. “Which what?”
She strolls across the console room and stops in front of him. “Which room have you been sitting in – moping in – in between occasional visits wherever the TARDIS took you, since you left me in Chiswick?”
“What… How did you know?” He straightens and fixes her with a stern look. “If you’re going to read my mind, the polite thing to do is to give me fair warning.”
Donna grins. “I wasn’t reading your mind, mate, I was basing my assumptions on what I already know of you from the time before I was the DoctorDonna. I know how you were feeling after everything that happened in the Crucible, how it changed from having a TARDIS full of people to just us – and then you on your own. I had a pretty good guess at the way you would have reacted, and you’ve just admitted I was right.”
The Doctor rolls his eyes and turns away. She grabs his arm.
“I am right, aren’t I, Doctor?”
And she doesn’t really need him to answer because she can see in his eyes that she is.
“You,” she says, poking him in the arm, “are hopeless!”
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” he demands, turning fully towards her. “Carry on blithely as though nothing had happened, I suppose! Act as if it didn’t affect me.”
He sighs and his shoulders droop. His voice takes on the tone it had held during their conversation after his adventures on Midnight.
“Donna, I’ve lost so much – you know that! After Rose went back to the parallel world, and Martha stayed with Jack, and you… Donna, I just couldn’t bear it any more.”
“So you gave up,” she says critically.
It hurts her to be stern with him when it's so obvious how much pain he's in, but she isn’t about to let him return to that lump of misery he must have been in her absence.
"I wouldn't... call it that," he protests weakly.
"Really?" She places her hands on his chest and forces him back a step so that he's pushed up against the jumpseat. The edge of the seat causes his knees to give and then he's sitting down so that he's at eye-level with her rather than standing over her. "Well, I'd like to disagree with that, Time Boy!"
"I bet you would," he says with a shadow of a smile.
"You're not going to like this," she tells him, "but, for the first time since I've known you, I think you're shirking responsibility."
"What?"
His indignation is obvious as he glares at her, all hints of amusement gone from his face. She can understand his feelings, because the one thing he's never done is what she’s accusing him of now. He's usually the one who has to take on more than most people. But Donna's not convinced that he's doing it now.
"I mean it." She arches an eyebrow and gently taps her fingers on his chest. "I really think you're desperate to have someone - or some thing - else to blame."
"Prove it," he growls.
"Oh, I intend to." She steps back and perches on the edge of the console before beginning to count off points on her fingers. "First, you let the TARDIS choose where you've gone ever since you were left on your own. That way you aren’t responsible for any dangerous or frightening experiences. True or false?"
There's a moment of silence.
"Doctor?"
He makes an indistinct sound that Donna takes as agreement. She nods and continues. "Next, you told me that, after you found me in the alley behind Adipose Industries, you were going to call an ambulance and leave me to be found by them. You didn’t want to have the responsibility of my death on your hands. Yes?"
The Doctor shrugs, fixing his gaze on the floor.
"And then," Donna continues, warming to her subject, "when you finally gave in and had to bring me on board the TARDIS, you just left me in the medical bay to be assessed by all the machines, rather than looking after me yourself. The TARDIS knew that I would recover, so she swapped the medical bay for my own room." She paused for a moment. "I imagine you walked away as soon as you'd put me on the bed, didn't you? Because you couldn't bear to be in the same room with me."
"That's not true!" he explodes. "Don't try to tell me what I was feeling at that moment!"
"Then why didn't you stay with me until I woke up?" she demands. "Why were you trying to run away? I think the TARDIS deliberately hid from you the fact that I was already awake so that you couldn't escape."
"Donna, I explained why..."
"Oh, come off it, Doctor," she says impatiently. "You introduced yourself to me in the living room of my house. You even came back into the kitchen to take one last look, despite the danger of me suddenly remembering. But give it a couple of days - or weeks - or even months sitting here in the TARDIS, persuading yourself into a state of misery, and you can't even bear to look at me."
"You're being ridiculous...!"
"Am I?" She folds her arms across her chest. "Prove me wrong then."
He opens his mouth - and then closes it again.
"It was Jackson Lake who told me about everything that happened with the Cybermen and the CyberKing," she reminds him. "You just followed us around like some forlorn puppy, not saying a single word."
"All right!" he yells, leaping to his feet. "Enough! Not another word."
"Fine," she snaps. "Just as long as you admit that I'm right."
He walks around the console, clearly desperate to get away from her, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye.
In the end, she has to smile at his frustration and annoyance.
"Tell you what," she says. "I'll forgive you and never mention it again on one condition."
The Doctor stops, his back to her, but she can see that some of the tension has drained out of his frame.
"I'm listening."
She smiles sadly. "I want my Doctor back. The man who takes charge of situations and saves the day. The man who isn't worried that he might make mistakes because he's afraid of the consequences, that they'll mean he's left alone. Because he's not alone. He doesn't have to be. Not any more."
He inhales deeply and his shoulders lower to their usual levels. He even glances at her over his shoulder and she can see that the fury has faded from his eyes. In fact there’s a half-teasing, half-affectionate smile on his face as he turns around and begins walking towards her. She steps forward into his embrace.
“And you call me soppy!”
* * *
“Face it, Donna, we’ve been everywhere I went without you, we’ve gone to all the places you think he might be, and we’ve even let the TARDIS try! We can’t find him!”
“He has to be out there somewhere!”
The Doctor turns away from the console to watch her, a concerned look on his face as she removes her coat, which is streaming with the rain from the planet outside.
“Look, I can see that you’re worried about him. A blind man could see that! But what I don’t understand is why!”
He crosses the room and takes the coat, draping it over a support beam to dry, before turning back and loosely grasping her shoulders, a sympathetic smile on his face.
“I think you sometimes forget, Donna – this is me we’re talking about. I’m a survivor, remember?”
“I know.” She reaches up to place a hand on his and grins. “If it’s any comfort, I worry about you, too.”
“Golly, you’re freezing!” He pulls her towards him and begins guiding her down into the bowels of the TARDIS, his arm around her shoulder, rubbing vigorously at her upper arm. “Why didn’t you say something? The last thing you need is a cold!”
“Didn’t know I was,” she retorted. “Freezing, that is. What are you doing?”
“Getting you warm!” He guides her into her room and pushes her gently in the direction of the bathroom. “Go in there and have a hot bath. I’ll have something for you when you get out. I’m not having you catch your death of cold!”
“You know,” she says as she heads off to obey his orders, “anyone would think you wanted me around or something.”
He chuckles as he turns in the direction of the bedroom door. “Anyone might be right.”
Next Part
Links to previous parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (the sad one) Part 4 (the really sad one) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
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.
Chapter VIII – Responsibilities
“So where to next?” Donna demands as they re-enter the TARDIS.
The Doctor removes his duster and throws it over the jumpseat. However, although he takes his places at the controls of the TARDIS, he doesn’t push any buttons or enter any co-ordinates. Instead he only gives a shrug.
“I don’t know. We’ve been everywhere that I went on my own.”
“Really?” Donna looks at him in surprise, because they’ve only visited four destinations since they left Jackson Lake in Victorian England. “I thought there would have been more places to go, considering how long I was gone.”
He remains silent, sending the TARDIS into the vortex, but not meeting her gaze. And then, suddenly, Donna understands.
“Which room, Doctor?”
He looks up at her now in obvious confusion. “Which what?”
She strolls across the console room and stops in front of him. “Which room have you been sitting in – moping in – in between occasional visits wherever the TARDIS took you, since you left me in Chiswick?”
“What… How did you know?” He straightens and fixes her with a stern look. “If you’re going to read my mind, the polite thing to do is to give me fair warning.”
Donna grins. “I wasn’t reading your mind, mate, I was basing my assumptions on what I already know of you from the time before I was the DoctorDonna. I know how you were feeling after everything that happened in the Crucible, how it changed from having a TARDIS full of people to just us – and then you on your own. I had a pretty good guess at the way you would have reacted, and you’ve just admitted I was right.”
The Doctor rolls his eyes and turns away. She grabs his arm.
“I am right, aren’t I, Doctor?”
And she doesn’t really need him to answer because she can see in his eyes that she is.
“You,” she says, poking him in the arm, “are hopeless!”
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” he demands, turning fully towards her. “Carry on blithely as though nothing had happened, I suppose! Act as if it didn’t affect me.”
He sighs and his shoulders droop. His voice takes on the tone it had held during their conversation after his adventures on Midnight.
“Donna, I’ve lost so much – you know that! After Rose went back to the parallel world, and Martha stayed with Jack, and you… Donna, I just couldn’t bear it any more.”
“So you gave up,” she says critically.
It hurts her to be stern with him when it's so obvious how much pain he's in, but she isn’t about to let him return to that lump of misery he must have been in her absence.
"I wouldn't... call it that," he protests weakly.
"Really?" She places her hands on his chest and forces him back a step so that he's pushed up against the jumpseat. The edge of the seat causes his knees to give and then he's sitting down so that he's at eye-level with her rather than standing over her. "Well, I'd like to disagree with that, Time Boy!"
"I bet you would," he says with a shadow of a smile.
"You're not going to like this," she tells him, "but, for the first time since I've known you, I think you're shirking responsibility."
"What?"
His indignation is obvious as he glares at her, all hints of amusement gone from his face. She can understand his feelings, because the one thing he's never done is what she’s accusing him of now. He's usually the one who has to take on more than most people. But Donna's not convinced that he's doing it now.
"I mean it." She arches an eyebrow and gently taps her fingers on his chest. "I really think you're desperate to have someone - or some thing - else to blame."
"Prove it," he growls.
"Oh, I intend to." She steps back and perches on the edge of the console before beginning to count off points on her fingers. "First, you let the TARDIS choose where you've gone ever since you were left on your own. That way you aren’t responsible for any dangerous or frightening experiences. True or false?"
There's a moment of silence.
"Doctor?"
He makes an indistinct sound that Donna takes as agreement. She nods and continues. "Next, you told me that, after you found me in the alley behind Adipose Industries, you were going to call an ambulance and leave me to be found by them. You didn’t want to have the responsibility of my death on your hands. Yes?"
The Doctor shrugs, fixing his gaze on the floor.
"And then," Donna continues, warming to her subject, "when you finally gave in and had to bring me on board the TARDIS, you just left me in the medical bay to be assessed by all the machines, rather than looking after me yourself. The TARDIS knew that I would recover, so she swapped the medical bay for my own room." She paused for a moment. "I imagine you walked away as soon as you'd put me on the bed, didn't you? Because you couldn't bear to be in the same room with me."
"That's not true!" he explodes. "Don't try to tell me what I was feeling at that moment!"
"Then why didn't you stay with me until I woke up?" she demands. "Why were you trying to run away? I think the TARDIS deliberately hid from you the fact that I was already awake so that you couldn't escape."
"Donna, I explained why..."
"Oh, come off it, Doctor," she says impatiently. "You introduced yourself to me in the living room of my house. You even came back into the kitchen to take one last look, despite the danger of me suddenly remembering. But give it a couple of days - or weeks - or even months sitting here in the TARDIS, persuading yourself into a state of misery, and you can't even bear to look at me."
"You're being ridiculous...!"
"Am I?" She folds her arms across her chest. "Prove me wrong then."
He opens his mouth - and then closes it again.
"It was Jackson Lake who told me about everything that happened with the Cybermen and the CyberKing," she reminds him. "You just followed us around like some forlorn puppy, not saying a single word."
"All right!" he yells, leaping to his feet. "Enough! Not another word."
"Fine," she snaps. "Just as long as you admit that I'm right."
He walks around the console, clearly desperate to get away from her, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye.
In the end, she has to smile at his frustration and annoyance.
"Tell you what," she says. "I'll forgive you and never mention it again on one condition."
The Doctor stops, his back to her, but she can see that some of the tension has drained out of his frame.
"I'm listening."
She smiles sadly. "I want my Doctor back. The man who takes charge of situations and saves the day. The man who isn't worried that he might make mistakes because he's afraid of the consequences, that they'll mean he's left alone. Because he's not alone. He doesn't have to be. Not any more."
He inhales deeply and his shoulders lower to their usual levels. He even glances at her over his shoulder and she can see that the fury has faded from his eyes. In fact there’s a half-teasing, half-affectionate smile on his face as he turns around and begins walking towards her. She steps forward into his embrace.
“And you call me soppy!”
“Face it, Donna, we’ve been everywhere I went without you, we’ve gone to all the places you think he might be, and we’ve even let the TARDIS try! We can’t find him!”
“He has to be out there somewhere!”
The Doctor turns away from the console to watch her, a concerned look on his face as she removes her coat, which is streaming with the rain from the planet outside.
“Look, I can see that you’re worried about him. A blind man could see that! But what I don’t understand is why!”
He crosses the room and takes the coat, draping it over a support beam to dry, before turning back and loosely grasping her shoulders, a sympathetic smile on his face.
“I think you sometimes forget, Donna – this is me we’re talking about. I’m a survivor, remember?”
“I know.” She reaches up to place a hand on his and grins. “If it’s any comfort, I worry about you, too.”
“Golly, you’re freezing!” He pulls her towards him and begins guiding her down into the bowels of the TARDIS, his arm around her shoulder, rubbing vigorously at her upper arm. “Why didn’t you say something? The last thing you need is a cold!”
“Didn’t know I was,” she retorted. “Freezing, that is. What are you doing?”
“Getting you warm!” He guides her into her room and pushes her gently in the direction of the bathroom. “Go in there and have a hot bath. I’ll have something for you when you get out. I’m not having you catch your death of cold!”
“You know,” she says as she heads off to obey his orders, “anyone would think you wanted me around or something.”
He chuckles as he turns in the direction of the bedroom door. “Anyone might be right.”
Next Part
Links to previous parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (the sad one) Part 4 (the really sad one) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
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