The road less travelled...

Title: The Skies Turn Dark 4/7
Author: katherine_b
Rating: PG
Characters: The Doctor, Jack Harkness, Martha Jones, Donna Noble
Summary: The Doctor needs help.

Part IV

“Hang on to her,” Martha orders, leaping to her feet, “and I’ll get another cot.”

“I shoved one into the next room to give us more space in here.”

As Martha vanishes, Jack slides his arm under Donna’s knees and lifts her into his arms, sitting down on the chair and holding the unconscious woman against him, his hand stroking her hair as he stares at the Doctor.

“What did you do to her?” he demands viciously, hearing as the Doctor says Donna’s name even more frequently now, amongst other sounds that still make no sense.

“Here, put her on this.” Martha pushes a trolley into the room and Jack lifts Donna, placing her gently on the bed. As soon as he steps back, Martha begins attaching various monitoring devices to Donna’s hands and arms, looking up at the second screen in the room as soon as the lines show her racing, uneven heart-rate. “This isn’t good.”

“What isn’t good?” Jack demands immediately, concern making him brusque. “Is she dying?”

“Not yet.”

Jack strokes the sweat-soaked hair off Donna’s face. “If anything happens to her,” he growls softly, “I’ll kill the Doctor myself.”

“You may not get that chance.” Martha nods at the screen showing the Doctor’s pulse, which is even more erratic than before. Then she looks at him more closely. “You barely know her,” she reminds the Time Agent. “You all but ignored her when we were on the TARDIS, when it was obvious to the rest of us that she was literally throwing herself at you. Why does she matter now?”

“She just does.”

“Jack,” Martha’s voice is quiet, “if there’s anything you can tell me about Donna, anything you know that could help – ”

“I don’t,” he snaps. “Nothing about her.”

“Then what?”

“Later.” Jack’s face is grim as he looks up at her. “I’ll tell you later. When she’s recovered. When they both have.”

Martha frowns, and Jack knows she’s about to question him, but then the Doctor moves even more violently than before on the bed and she stretches out a hand to keep him still. Jack has turned towards the door, wanting to escape what he knows will be an agonizing conversation, but before he can leave the room, Martha lets out a yell that makes him spin back around to face her.

“What?” he demands at once. “What is it?”

Martha is wringing her hands, staring from Donna’s still form to the Doctor’s restless one, her eyes wide.

“They – shocked me!” She reaches out a tentative hand to Donna, but pulls it back before making contact. “There’s some sort of power flowing between them. It’s like an electric current.” She looks up at him, perhaps reading the scepticism in his eyes. “Feel it, Jack.”

“How could there be…?” Jack is beginning impatiently when he steps between the two trolleys.

His eyes widen as he feels a crackle like static electricity. Undeterred, he places a gentle hand on Donna’s limp arm and reaches out for the Doctor. At the same instant as his fingers make contact with the Doctor’s hand, he feels a shaft of pain cut through him that makes his eyes pop and causes him to gasp.

He almost throws himself away from the beds, recovering his breath as he leans back against the wall, his hands stinging and throbbing from the pain of the shock.

“What the hell is it?”

“I don’t know.” Martha is staring at the screens showing the two heartbeats. “But whatever it is, it’s constant. The shock you received didn’t act to stimulate either Donna’s heart or the Doctor’s.”

“Could one of them be feeding energy into the other?” Jack suggests as he warily edges closer to the beds. “Maybe the Doctor is feeding his energy into Donna to help her.”

Martha shakes her head, her fingers on Donna’s wrist, pointing with her free hand at the monitors. “It’s Donna’s pulse that’s erratic now. The Doctor’s has stabilized. If anything, he’s draining energy from her, not the other way around.”

When Jack looks at the monitor, he can tell that Martha’s right. The Doctor’s heart-rate has become steady, and it’s quicker than it was. As he turns back to the Doctor, Jack can see that his movements on the bed, the twitching of his legs and movement of his fingers grasping at the air, which were previously almost unnoticeable, have strengthened. Donna’s pulse, on the other hand, is irregular, her heart beating three or four times in rapid succession, then stopping before repeating the pattern.

“He’s going to kill her,” Jack says softly, pain in his voice. “Isn’t he?”

“I’m sure he isn’t doing it consciously.” Martha’s expression is anxious. “He’s very fond of her.”

“And yet he wiped her memories.”

“You do that all the time,” Martha challenges him. “What do you think retcon is?”

“That’s different.” Jack shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s for their own good.”

“Perhaps the Doctor did that for Donna’s own good.” Martha’s voice is cool. “You don’t know.”

“You’re always defending him,” Jack snaps.

“Because he’s usually right.” Martha folds her arms across her chest. “And I’m not about to blame him for this until I know why he did it. And we won’t know that until we find a way to save him, or Donna, or both.”

Jack knows that Martha is changing the subject, but he’s not exactly unhappy to be getting away from an uncomfortable topic either. He moves to the side of bed on which Donna is lying and gently rests his hand against her forehead, stroking her skin with his thumb.

“How can we help?” he asks, hating his feelings of helplessness.

“I don’t know.” Martha sets a chair in the small space between the beds and sits down. “There’s no way to stop the Doctor draining Donna’s energy. And even if we somehow managed to do it, the interruption of the flow might kill both of them.”

Jack’s eyes travel from Donna’s still form to the Doctor, who is moving ever more violently, and it’s clear he’s getting stronger. After a moment's thought, Jack moves the two beds closer to each other so that the Doctor can't fall off the cot.

“Maybe,” he offers hesitantly as he raises the bars on the other side of the bed, “I could act as a conductor. Try to limit the flow. Cut it off if it seems like Donna’s going to die.”

Martha shakes her head. “It could be too much.”

“Oh, like that matters,” Jack says impatiently. “What’s one more death to me?”

“No, I meant too much for them.” She nods at the bodies in front of them, picking up Donna’s hand and lightly stroking her fingers. “If you died, even for a while, the interruption to the flow could hurt them.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know it won’t.”

She stands up, placing Donna’s hand down on the bed, and Jack sees her turn to him, but before she can speak, his attention is drawn to the sudden change that has taken place.

The room has become deathly silent.

The Doctor’s incoherent mumblings having ceased, and his movements have also stopped. He lies motionless, lips parted as if someone has stolen the words he was saying out of his mouth. His eyes are half-open, his head is turned slightly to one side, and the hand that had been reaching out has dropped against the mattress with a soft thud. His other hand, Jack notices, is now lying against Donna’s limp fingers.

“What happened…?” he’s beginning, when he sees that Martha is staring at the two cardiac monitors.

He looks in the same direction and his eyes widen as he sees what has caught her attention.

The Doctor’s heartbeat remains steady, but it’s slowing. Donna’s on the other hand, has become more regular and is increasing in speed. After only a few seconds, the lines on the two machines are rising and falling in perfect unison.

“It’s not possible…” Jack breathes. “How?!”

“I wish I knew.”

“I do know.”

The third voice in the room makes both Jack and Martha start. Jack darts over to place a protective hand on Martha’s shoulder, fearful of some sort of threat, while that woman is staring around the room for the source of the voice.

“Donna?” she asks anxiously, with a note of fear to her voice.

“How can it be Donna?” Jack demands.

Martha points silently at the Doctor, and Jack’s eyes widen as he sees that the other man’s mouth has closed.

“I’m sorry.”

Jack starts as he watches the Doctor’s lips move, but with Donna’s voice sounding in the otherwise silent room instead.

“I know this is weird,” Donna tells them. “It is for me, too.”

“But – Donna, what are you doing?” Martha demands, stepping forward out of Jack’s hold to place a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“The Doctor’s dying,” comes the blunt response. “I’m trying to stabilize his mind. It’s trying to tear itself apart.”

“Can you save him?” Jack’s voice contains a traitorous tremor as he asks the question.

“I hope so,” comes Donna’s voice in reply.

“Can you make him regenerate?” Martha asks, a hopeful tone in her voice. “If it gets to that, I mean,” she adds hurriedly.

“No.” Donna’s response is full of regret. “I wish I could, but regeneration is a conscious action, and I have no control over his conscious state. It’s taking everything I’ve got to be able to speak to you.”

“But – Donna, what’s wrong with the Doctor?” Martha demands anxiously.

“I don’t know exactly,” Donna admits with obvious reluctance. “His memories are so vague.” She sighs. “He hasn’t been taking care of himself, I do know that much. He’s much weaker than I remember him – his mind is, anyway.”

“You remember?” Jack steps towards the bed. “You remember without pain? How is that possible?”

“Because the Doctor’s Time Lord mind has the capacity to hold both his and my minds without the strain that was causing me so much pain.”

“So does that mean…?” Jack is beginning, when Martha suddenly grabs his arm and points at the cardiac monitor.

Jack feels his own heart drop as he sees what has attracted her attention.

“Donna,” Martha says faintly, “your heart – it’s slowing.”

* * *
Teaser for next part:

‘If your heart stops, I don’t know if we can save you.’