The man stumbled out of the box, tears streaming down his face. He barely even looked up to register where the rift had come out. Blindly he made his way across the road, which was, fortunately, not very busy this time of night, and found an empty seat at a picnic table out front of the George and Devonshire. Every now and again, he would glance over toward the box, regarding it with a faint hope that dimmed each time he saw it.

Mary, a kindhearted, dim woman of about thirty, watched from across the way. Being rather plump, she waddled a bit closer. The man from the box was muttering now, quietly, to himself, "She's gone… she's gone…"

Mary had been walking home from work at the restaurant when she had noticed the man. His tweed outfit and bowtie had caught her eye; he looked lost and out of place. In fact, he looked a little… special. As in, special needs.

Now, Mary had no problem with special needs people, but she was a tad concerned over this one, what with him crying and muttering to himself. Yes, he was a bit of a loon, but he didn't seem dangerous. Mary decided to walk back over and check up on him – can't have those types of people wandering around at night by themselves – to make sure he was alright.

"Hello, dearie," she said, taking a seat at the table next to him. The restaurant was well past closing time, and no one came out to stop them. The bowtied man did not acknowledge her. "My name is Mary."

"She's gone…" mumbled the bowtied man, obviously consumed in his current train of thought.

Mary put her hand over his. "Who's gone, love?"

The bowtied man looked up, startled at her sudden touch. He seemed to see her for the first time. "She… the TARDIS is… gone…" His eyes glazed over again.

"Ah," said Mary, in well-meant sympathy. "Well, I'm sure she'll come back soon enough. Is this… Tadrisse… the person who takes care of you?" She remembered vaguely that special needs people usually had a keeper to look after them. This one's keeper seemed to have wandered off for the moment.

The bowtied man did not answer, but instead began to cry harder.

"There, there, love," Mary patted his hand gently. "She'll come back. What's your name?"

The man sniffed. "I'm… the Doctor…"

"A lovely name, dear. Do you want to be a doctor someday?" He stared at her through bleary eyes. "What's your real name, though?"

"Name's… the Doctor." He regarded her, still quietly crying, unable to stop. "'M' an alien." He looked down. "From… 'nother planet. Can't g-go… back…"

"All right, love, all right. Who is it you're looking for? Maybe I can help?"

The bowtied man stared at her blankly, as if she was stupid. "No one…"

"Oh, dearie duck, I'm sure someone is out looking for you. They're probably as worried about losing you as you are about losing your… Tadrisse?"

The man brought his knees up onto the bench, curling himself into a ball at the name. Mary, alarmed, placed a gentle hand on his back. "Hush, love, I'm sure she'll be back soon."

The bowtied man sobbed into his knees. "She c-can't… she… she's… she's dea-"

"Doctor?!"

A redheaded woman, tall and curvy and quite pretty, ran to the bowtied man's side. Mary looked up at her, scrutinizing. "Does this one belong to you, dear?"

"He's my friend, if that's what you're asking." The redhead placed her hands on her hips. Mary frowned.

"Are you… Tadrisse?"

"Tadrisse?"

"Yeah, he keeps going on about how he's lost this Tadrisse."

The redhead looked up, racking her brain. "Tadrisse, Tad-reece, Tad-ris… Tar… Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. Doctor, the TARDIS… is she…?" She looked around, and saw the faded blue police box across the street. Her breath hitched in her throat.

The man called the Doctor looked up at this new woman. "Donna…" he breathed. "Donna Noble…"

The woman called Donna Noble looked down at the broken man. "Oh, Doctor," her eyes filled with pity. "Oh, love, come here…" Donna gathered the Doctor into her arms, lifting him off the bench. He buried his face in her shoulder, crying with soft, mewling sounds into the fabric of her shirt.

Donna turned to face Mary. "My name's Donna. I'm… a friend of his."

"I've been watching out for him," Mary began, brightening at this new development. "Sweet boy. He's been worried sick about this Tadrisse person… is she his mother? I do hope she comes back for him soon. Such special people don't deserve to be left alone…" She placed extra emphasis on the word 'special.'

Donna glared at the woman. How dare she make such an assumption about the Doctor! Then, looking down at the shaking bundle in her arms, she decided that she might have made the same assumption about him had she not known who he was. "You're right. He doesn't deserve to be left alone. Are you ready to come home now, Doctor?"

The man sniffled his assent, and Donna gently peeled him away from her shoulder and put an arm around his back. She slowly began leading him away, up toward Devonshire Road.

Mary watched as the pair made their way into the night, one still crying, and the other murmuring hushed words of encouragement. She felt as if, on some level, she had performed some great civic duty. She began heading the other way, along the Thames, feeling quite pleased with herself for helping such a special person.