This idea... is cute. It just is. Cute and angst-filled; an odd combination, but I think it works.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. If I did, Donna would be back and Amy would be gone.

His clothes are soaking wet from the rain. He has probably ruined this suit, but the only thing he can think about is her. Donna. The fiery, amazing ginger that lit up this old phone box like nothing else ever had. He sighs softly and presses a button on the console in front of him.

"Oi, Spaceman! What do you think you're doing?"

The Doctor almost jumps out of his skin. He looks around frantically. Donna can't be here. She's gone, but... That was definitely her voice...

The TARDIS makes a small whirr and a hologram appears to his left, barely three feet from him. It's her. He stares in astonishment, completely frozen.

It is a long moment before the hologram stops crossing its arms and frowning at him. "You know, it's very rude to leave people behind."

The Doctor looks around, confused and knowing that she's just a hologram, but... "I didn't leave you behind, Donna."

"You'd never do that, I know," she answers, her voice going soft. "This is just a hologram. One of many holograms, actually. The TARDIS is really clever! She lets me keep a sort of... Diary in her database, I guess you could say." The Doctor's eyes go wide, but he says nothing. "There will probably be a lot of these little holograms by the time I'm finished. I can talk even faster than I can type! Ha!" She laughs at her own joke, which makes him laugh as a tear rolls down his cheek.

Her face suddenly becomes solemn. "If you're seeing this, that means I've left. I asked the TARDIS to show you these if I ever... decided to go." She pauses and he watches her incorporeal form, wishing to hug her one final time.

"If I left because I wanted to go, then I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have left you alone." His eyes start to well up now, true tears that blur the hologram until he can barely see her. He makes a point to blink often, in order to see her more clearly.

"But if I left because I got hurt or died, then don't cry for me, Doctor. Please don't. I wouldn't have changed a single moment of it. Not one line." This opens the flood gates and he's on the rickety seat in front of the console screen, watching her with tears pouring down his face. He can't bear to shut his eyes, lest she disappear on him. It hurts so much.

"I just wanted you to know that you were my best friend," she says, and he can make out her own eyes getting a bit misty through the static. "You made me feel like I was special, even though I'm not. I'll never be important, not like you. But I traveled to so many amazing places. The trip of a lifetime." She smiles, a tear running down her face at the mere thought of leaving.

"I don't know how many of these holograms there will be by the time you see this. You might not even see this at all, but I think it's worth doing." She smiles and he can almost feel her looking at him. "So have fun, Spaceman. I hope they help." The hologram blinks out of existence and he turns his tear streaked face to the screen. The number of holograms appears before him and he can't help but laugh through the sorrow. Over 400. She would do that.

All in all, there are over 100 hours of hologram footage from Donna. He wipes his eyes and starts on number one.