The familiar wheezing noise of the TARDIS engines was getting too much for the Doctor. He was tired of ending up alone, he was tired of leaving behind the people he loved and cared about. He didn't know where his place in the universe was anymore. His friends all had someone else. Jack had Torchwood. Rose had his clone. Martha had Mickey. Sarah Jane has her gang in Bannerman Road. There was no hope left for the Doctor in the universe. He spent every single night alone in the main control room, absentmindedly pressing random and unusual buttons on the TARDIS console. He sighed desperately. He missed Donna. No, he loved her. He missed it when she called him Spaceman. He even missed it when she slapped him for being Spaceman. He felt regret, he felt nothing; his heart was now swirling around in a black cloud, trapped in his own guilt. He wanted Donna back, but he couldn't cope without her. He wanted her back but he knew it would be too dangerous. How would Sylvia and Wilfred cope without her? Like the Doctor reminded them once, Donna, for one shining moment was the most important woman in the whole wide universe. To the Doctor, she still is. Every moment, he was alone. She was. She was living her own life. Every solemn second alone in the TARDIS was getting too much for the Doctor. He wanted her.
He couldn't cope anymore. He wanted his best friend back, he wanted her embrace, and he wanted to say his name in a voice that would make him melt his hearts. If Donna said it'd be okay, he'd be okay too. He'd lost too many people now, he'd fashioned an army out of regular people. Rose was working for the parallel Torchwood. Martha was at UNIT. He couldn't stop and think about how he hurt Martha, how he led her along, making her fall in love with him and treating her with no respect at all. How he felt responsible for her family being tortured. Oh, the guilt he felt. He loved every single companion he ever had, every single soul that walked in the TARDIS, slept in its rooms, lounged on its sofas, he wanted someone. He wanted a best friend, not a lover. He wanted Donna.
With a ruffle of his messy, spiky brown hair, he slammed the handbrake down and stared up at the green column which engulfed the dimly lit console room with an eerie alien green glow. Following a loud thud, and a bumpy landing the TARDIS landed. The Doctor stared at the doors, wondering whether or not he had made the right choice in doing this. What if he hurt her? What if he made the slightest mistake and she remembered him? The slightest nanosecond of remembering him would destroy her. He couldn't bare watching his best friend in despair.
The blue wooden doors opened, and an old man stood at the front of the TARDIS. He looked older, and he looked tired out, and dead on his feet. He looked at the Doctor with sad eyes, the sad eyes that the Doctor couldn't face. The Doctor looked down at his Converse trainers, and sighed deeply.
"Doctor?" muttered Wilf. "Is Donna okay?" The Doctor looked sad. He faced down, looking at the console. The familiar sound of the TARDIS humming was her way of saying "everything is okay." Wilf had this concerned look on his face, like he understood why the Doctor was here. It could only mean one thing: The Doctor wanted Donna back as much as Donna wanted him back. The Doctor could only stare at the floor. He was never this vulnerable before, he never showed his true emotions. Especially in front of a human.
"Can I see her Wilf? Where is she? I need her, more than ever." croaked the Doctor. "It may be too late, I need her back, my best friend Wilfred. Surely you can understand that." The Doctor's old eyes glistened with tears, and he was soon embraced in a tight hug from Wilf. The Doctor had missed this, he missed someone to hug, and it made him feel so alive. And right now, he needed that.
"She's out, with Sylvia. Doing Christmas shopping. But she'll be back at eight for tea, you're welcome to join us you know, you're always welcome here. Sylvia would understand." Wilf looked at the Doctor, longing to know why after all this time; he decided to come back, now. The Doctor had this unfamiliar sensation that he was lying, the old man that admired him so much, why?
The Doctor looked surprised. Christmas, already? He thought. Christmas. The time he first met her. That time she was transported into his spaceship on her wedding day. The first adventure they ever had together, defeating a bunch of Robot Santa's and a big red spider. The first time he declined a request to join them on Christmas dinner. Even though Donna hated Christmas, he wondered why she was out Christmas shopping anyway. Maybe Wilfred was lying. Maybe he knew deep down that the Doctor couldn't help her, because she was long gone by now. Way overdue.
Maybe the Doctor would turn back, run away. Because that was the only thing he was good at. But he couldn't go on without his best friend, Donna Noble. Donna Noble, the most important woman who saved his life in so many ways.