The road less travelled...

Title: Time After Time 3/Lots
Author: katherine_b
Rating: G
Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens to those the Doctor leaves behind?
Characters: Donna and Theta Sigma (One)

Chapter II

Donna isn't surprised, when she finishes tidying the nursery after the children are safely in bed, to find Theta standing in the doorway, his hands deep in the pockets of his favourite frock coat, which he tends to wear around the house if no guests are expected.

“Did you want something, sir?” she asked, feigning innocence.

With a knowing chuckle, Theta steps forward and offers his arm, smiling as she slips her hand around his elbow. He places his free hand over hers and guides her out of the room.

“I have something special for you,” he tells her as they go down the stairs. “Some whiskey I brought with me from my last visit to Earth.”

“Oh, no!” She stops short on the landing, dropping her hold on his arm. “Sir, you mustn't waste that on me! You should keep it for a special occasion!”

“Theta,” he reminds her, reaching down to take her hand. “And it certainly isn't a waste!”

Continuing to protest, even though she knows it's futile, Donna lets herself be led into the living room and seated in a chair beside the fireplace. Several minutes later, Theta hands her a glass and sits down opposite her.

“Cheers,” he says with a smile, holding up the glass at her and watching as, somewhat reluctantly, she returns the gesture before sipping the whiskey.

“Do you want to tell me about it now?” he asks in the end, when Donna remains silent.

She smiles a little. “I wish I'd never opened my mouth,” she says honestly.

“But you did.” His eyes twinkle. “You can't blame me for that.”

Sighing, she gives in, lowering the glass to her lap and wrapping her fingers around it, staring at the amber fluid.

“It sounds so silly,” she admits with a sigh.

“Dreams usually are,” he reminds her. “And,” he adds, his lips quirking into a smile, “if it's any consolation, I promise I won't tease you about it afterwards.”

“All right.” She puts the glass to one side and then looks up at him. “Sometimes I dream I'm living a different life filled with the most incredible things. Ridiculous things. Terrifying! Monsters and spiders and giant insects. Creatures with strange heads and hands and faces.”

“But that's what life's like out there, Donna,” Theta tells her, gesturing with his free hand to the ceiling and thus to the world beyond. “Impossible things. Ridiculous things. Wonderful things!” He places his glass down and leans back in his seat. “So these nightmares of yours...”

“Nightmares?” Donna interrupts, the first time she's ever done that since she began working for him. “Who said anything about nightmares?”

“Well, I...” Theta stops, staring at her for a moment before frowning a little. “I just assumed... You weren't frightened then?”

“No.” She shakes her head, unable to help smiling at the hesitant delight in his eyes. “I couldn't help loving it, even when I was frightened. And I was,” she adds with certainty. “Often. But somehow, that thrill...”

“I know.” He smiles. “I do know, Donna. That's what kept me out there. Why I couldn't stay here.” He leans forward. “How could you be satisfied with this, Donna? With staying here forever?”

“They're just dreams, Theta,” she reminds him. “And there are others that aren't like that at all.” She sighs sadly. “Boring, really. It's just – normal. So much what I do here. Working as a secretary for all sorts of different people.” She gives a slight shrug. “They're just – nothing dreams, really. I mean, a few things are different. The sky's blue, for instance. Grass is green, not red. But, I suppose because I'm dreaming, I don't really pay attention.”

For a long moment, they sit in silence, and Donna suspects it's because Theta doesn't really know how to respond.

“The really strange part,” she says in the end, making the confession she had originally planned to keep secret because it sounds so ludicrous, “is that sometimes I find myself believing that's the reality and everything I do here is just a dream.”

“It's not, Donna.” Theta's voice is gentle. “It really isn't. I mean, you've lived all your life here on Gallifrey. You've,” he pauses for a moment, and she can hear pain in his voice, “you've even done something I haven't.” He stops again, swallows hard, and then adds, “You've regenerated.”

Donna has no words to reply to that and they sink into silence. She can guess that Theta is thinking about his recent loss, but Donna herself is reliving the nightmare that nearly killed her and resulted in the death of Theta's wife. She can hear the echo of the other woman's dying screams in her ears. Feel the heat and the agony that accompanied that dramatic change.

She shudders at the memory...

...and a firm hand comes to rest on her cool fingers with a reassuring squeeze.

“I'm sorry, Donna.” Theta's voice is soft and warm. “I shouldn't have made you think about it.”

“It's not your fault.” She tightens her grasp on his hand. For a moment she gazes at their linked fingers before looking up at him. “Can I ask you something?”

He manages a tiny smile. “Of course you can.”

She studies the floor for a moment before raising her eyes to his again. “Considering... everything,” she says slowly, “why would you still want me in your life?”

The smile disappears from Theta's face and Donna thinks she's been too familiar when he gently releases his hold on her hand, sinking back into his chair and staring into the fire. She could almost believe she can see tears sparkling in his eyes, and she's never seen this man cry, even after he was told about his wife's death.

Silently getting up from her chair, she tries to sidle past him, not wanting to intrude on a private moment of grief, and swallowing her own pain as best she can, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

However, he unexpectedly reaches out, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her back gently in his direction. She sinks to her knees beside his chair, feeling as he takes her hands, drawing them onto his lap.

“No,” he says softly. “Don't go.”

He lightly strokes the back of her hand with his thumb, slowly raising his eyes to meet hers.

“I wanted you to stay in my life,” he tells her, his words coming slowly, and with visible reluctance, “because, in a way, you were a link back to that time, before she was gone. But,” he adds, his voice tight, “because you looked and sounded different after you regenerated, I didn't feel as if you were a constant reminder of everything that I'd lost.”

Donna feels some of the tension in her body relax at his response. She's been wondering about this ever since, only a short time after her regeneration, Theta sought her out at the Council and asked her to come back and work for him.

“And then,” he goes on, intertwining his fingers with hers, “there isn't anyone else I'd trust with my children.”

“Thank you.” She gently squeezes his hand, before smiling a little, trying to cheer him up. “Well, quite apart from the trust you've placed in me, I have to say that I'm grateful for one thing that didn't happen as a result of the way I changed.”

Raising his eyebrows, Donna's pleased to see that the tension around his mouth and eyes has eased a little. “What's that then?”

Giving a chuckle, she frees a hand and reaches up to wind a curl of her black hair around her index finger. “Well, I could be ginger!”

“Actually,” he admits in the manner of one confessing a great secret, his tone lightening “I have a passionate yearning for ginger hair. I desperately hoped one of the children would have hair that colour. I keep hoping, when I regenerate eventually, I might be ginger.”

“Can you imagine it with your robes?” she teases. “Ginger hair would go so well with the Prydonian colours of scarlet and orange.

He chuckles, conceding this point, but she continues before he can say anything.

“Besides,” Donna says dismissively, “you never had to put up with all that teasing as a child. One of the girls in my class at the Academy had long, ginger hair and she suffered for it almost every day.”

Theta laughs a little, the last of the frown finally disappearing, and he gives her hand one final, gentle touch before letting go.

“Thank you, Donna,” he says softly. “I don't know what I – we – would do without you.”

“Just doing my job,” she replies, getting to her feet and leaving the room with a backward smile.

* * *
Donna arranges her dark ringlets around the large ceremonial collar, ensuring that her headdress is pinned securely. Smoothing her attire, she takes a final glance in the mirror and then turns as Theta comes out into the entry, resplendent in his brilliant orange robes.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She leads the way out of the door when he holds it open for her, and walks down the few steps to the ground into the darkening night sky. A moment later, he's beside her, offering his arm, and she slips her hand around his elbow as they walk towards the brightly lit Academy building.

“I can't quite believe it, you know,” Theta says conversationally. “I can't believe my boy is old enough to be going through this. I mean, it only feels like just the other day that I was doing it myself!”

“It only feels like yesterday that you came home with him, and no time at all since the twins arrived.”

His voice is suddenly soft and filled with regret. “I wish his mother were here.”

“I know.” Donna swallows hard. “So do I.”

The huge stretch of red lawn in front of the Academy has been set up for the initiation ceremony, the framed opening showing a small glimpse into the endless vortex. Donna shudders a little and averts her eyes, glancing at the glowing torches and then the line of boys and girls in robes standing to one side.

Donna and Theta cross to the growing group of parents who are here to watch their children's official entrance into the Academy. Before they can do more than greet some of their acquaintances, however, the teacher in charge of the line of children allows them to go and greet their families.

Will runs towards his father, who drops to one knee and embraces the boy more warmly than Donna remembers seeing before. She smiles before taking her turn and hugging her former charge when he flings his arms around her.

“Are you happy, my boy?”

“Absolutely!” And Will's expression is one of sheer delight. “It's wonderful!”

They don't have long to talk before the children are summoned back to their teacher. Donna runs her eye along the line, seeing that some of the boys and girls, like Will, look as if they can't wait to gaze into the untempered schism. Others are uncertain, and a select few look as if they are about to burst into tears.

Theta moves slightly closer, sliding his fingers into hers, as the first child – the one who has scored highest on the various entrance examinations that the children have undergone over the past few hectas – is told to steps forward.

And Donna echoes Theta's delighted gasp as Will takes that coveted position.

“That's your work, Donna,” he murmurs, and she gives his fingers a gentle squeeze in reply.

Will, with members of the High Council on either side, steps forward, fixing his dark eyes on the whirling vortex. Donna firmly believes that Theta has stopped breathing as he watches his eldest son go through the same process he did several hundred epons earlier.

Donna can see the emotions that pass across Will's face and recognises the light that suddenly seems to flare in his eyes.

And Theta sighs, almost certainly in relief, as they both understand the spark of inspiration that the sight of the entire raw power of time and space has prompted in him.

Will isn't going to follow in his father's footsteps after all, and neither of them can be disappointed, as Theta, at least, understands the challenges that presents.

A gnawing sense of emptiness makes Donna's stomach clench as she begins to realise that they have now lost Will from their small family circle. His experience tonight has taken him away and made him part of the wider Time Lord community.

“I take it back,” Theta murmurs as he watches his son given the official greeting accorded to all members of the Prydonian Academy.

“What is it?”

He shakes his head slightly. “I hadn't realized before, but – I'm glad his mother didn't live to see this.” He swallows hard. “It would have broken her heart.”

“It happened the same way with you,” she reminds him in a whisper.

“I know.” He nods. “I just never appreciated what my parents went through – what all parents here have to suffer, losing their children like this.”

“You still have the twins.”

“Not for long.” And Theta's expression drops as he watches one child after another take the place of his son.

And, once the ceremony is over and Will is once more allowed to approach his father and former nanny, the boy's manner is dramatically different, much more formal and grown-up, reflecting the life-changing experience he has just undergone.

Glancing around as Theta greets some of his friends, Donna can recognise a reflection of her own feelings of loss and the pain of separation in the eyes of those mothers around her. The fathers, she can see, are struggling to maintain their composure and hide their emotions as they say farewell to their sons and daughters.

Some sextas later, they say their final goodbyes – to the other adults, as the children spend most of their time talking excitedly with each other – and head for home.

“Can I ask you something?” Theta proposes as they approach the house, having made the way in silence up to this point.

“Of course.”

He stops suddenly, his gentle hold on her hand making her turn to face him. She glances at their linked fingers for a moment before meeting his gaze. Him taking her hand is a new development and she still feels rather uncertain about it.

“What,” he asks softly, “did you see in the schism?”

Donna catches her breath, feeling tension clench in her stomach, and her eyes fall. “I thought we weren't meant to talk about it,” she says in the end.

She can feel his eyes burning into her, but she refuses to say anything else and after a moment she hears him sigh.

“You,” he says in the end, mild frustration in his tones, “are one of the most secretive people I've ever met, Donna. I don't know how you manage it.”

“Lots of practice,” she says with a half-smile, leading the way up the stairs to the front door.

* * *
Three epons later, that night is repeated with Janie and Tom. Janie just pips her brother to take the coveted position of going first, and once the two children have completed their initiation, Donna lets her eyes stroll across the gathered Time Lords standing to one side of the opening.

She starts at the sight of Will, resplendent in his orange robes, his eyes meeting hers, and although no expression crosses his face, she senses the warm acknowledgment flowing from him. She can't help smiling a little, thankful that she hasn't been forgotten entirely.

Theta, however, has no such source of comfort, and she can feel the pain flowing from him as he watches his younger children taken away from him and into the wider community of Time Lords.

However she isn't standing beside him this time. Her hand isn't entwined with hers. He's alone.

Instead her place is at the side of the Time Lord for whom she has been acting as secretary since Janie and Tom went to the Academy.

And the following day, when she goes to visit him and see how he is, she can't be surprised to find that his house is empty.

“Oh, Theta,” she murmurs, smoothing her fingers along the edge of his ceremonial collar, which is hanging from its usual hook. “I hope you can be happy again.”

She knows how hard he has taken the loss of his children, the last connections to the wife that she is aware he has never ceased to mourn.

“So he's gone,” a voice says behind her, and she turns to see Thorton, her boss and a member of the High Council, accompanied by two guards, walking up the steps. “He got away.”

“What?” she demands anxiously. “What do you mean?”

“My dear girl,” his tone is patronising, as it often is, “did you not think we would predict what the Doctor would do?”

“‘The Doctor’?” Donna can hear the confusion in her own voice. “I don't understand.”

Thorton sighs impatiently. “He has left everything behind, even the name by which he was known here,” he explains curtly. “He is now styling himself 'the Doctor' and,” he adds, after a significant pause, “he has taken his new secretary with him.”

Susan.

Donna has only met her replacement a few times, but now she feels a profound sense of envy that that woman has the opportunity she never had.

No, she remembers as she follows Thorton out of the house where she had been so happy, that’s not fair. She had the chance. She could have taken Theta up on his offer and been inside the TARDIS with him, being introduced to the wonderful and terrifying inhabitants of the universe that she sees almost every time she dreams.

Instead, she realises as she glances up in time to see Thorton cast her a wary look out of the corner of his eye, she is under suspicion for her association with him.

Firmly suppressing her thoughts, she knows she is going to have to practice that habit until nobody else can pick up on her feelings, about Theta or anything – anyone – else.

Because she knows the Time Lords want Theta back, but she can't help hoping that he continues doing what he clearly loves and which will make him happy.

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