Donna's shoulder's twitched nervously, an almost unconscious movement, but it caught The Doctor's eye.
"Donna?" he questioned, glancing over at her.
"S'nothing," she muttered, not meeting his gaze.
"Hey, tell me what it is," he encouraged, stepping toward her and taking her hand in his.
"It's only that, sometimes I remember that time-feeding beetle thing, and it's almost like I can still feel it. All these feelings of wrongness. Of seeing them wheel your dead body into an ambulance, of watching the Earth die...Worse of all was somehow not knowing who you were, this awful knowledge that a part of my world was missing, a part of myself was missing. I can feel all that so clearly whenever I get this tickle on my back." Donna shuddered, squeezing The Doctor's hand and looking up into his warm chocolate eyes.
"Come here," The Doctor murmured, pulling Donna against his chest. He ran his hands down her back, smoothing her shirt as he silently reminded her she was safe, he was with her, and there was nothing on her back. To his surprise, her hands clutched at his jacket and she pressed her forehead into his shoulder, stifling a sob that was wrenched from her chest.
"Doctor."
"Ssh, ssh, it's all right," The Doctor assured her, his brow furrowing in concern. He pressed his hands more more firmly against her upper back, but still she shook.
"I need- I need-" she cried, panting for breath, beginning to hyperventilate.
"Tell me Donna, tell me what you need," he begged, finding it unbearable to hear her pain yet be so helpless.
"You, I need to feel you instead of that thing that took you from my life." She tugged on his lapel, her hands against his chests pleading with him.
"Oh, Donna, my brilliant, beautiful, stubborn Donna. You have me. Look, there's nothing there, nothing on your back anymore. It's just you and me," he promised, pulling back for a moment to deftly pull her shirt off over her head. His hands splayed across her warm skin, mapping her back, bare save for her bra. "Mine," The Doctor breathed, his fingers tracing patterns against her freckled skin. "Yours," he vowed capturing her hands and pressing them against his chest, one against each heart. "You and me, traveling together in the TARDIS. Forever."