Donna sits up on her hospital bed as the doorknob turns. A man steps into the room. He wears a black jacket, and a dark red bowtie. A petite young girl stands next to him. She has long, chocolate brown hair. She waits by the door as the man comes up to her and takes Donna's shaking hand.
She's ready to slap him, no matter how weak she feels. But then he looks her in the eyes. "Oh, Donna Noble," he says with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He presses his forehead against hers.
Memories flood her brain, clouding her vision. A white wedding dress, a buzzing blue screwdriver. Ancient Italy, a furry winter coat, a pretty dark skinned girl with a diamond ring and a gun. A planet of diamonds, a blonde girl in a blue jacket. And a tall thin man. He wears a long tan coat, and sports a great head of hair. Funny, witty. The smartest man in the universe. The loneliest. With his little blue impossible box. He was her best friend. She was his. They shared everything. She teased him, she threatened him, she sassed him into oblivion. But she never meant it, and he knew that. She knew how he thought. A speed race in his head of knowledge, and power, and insanity, and heartbreak. Everything that ever happened, happens, or could happen. And for just some time she shared it with him. She knew how he felt. His friends were his family. And each time they left, it broke him bit by bit. Martha. Sarah Jane. Jack. Rose. Her. In her last minutes of memory, she remembered him turning to her. Sadness in his eyes. His mind too. And she'd fought as he pressed his hands to her temple and saved her life.
The man steps back and looks her in the eyes. The tears had spilled over and were falling down his cheeks freely. Donna sighed and closed her eyes as her head burns with knowledge. Heartbreak, darkness, fear. And love. She is the most important woman in the universe. "Thank you," she whispers to the Doctor. "Thank you."
Donna Temple-Noble
Loving Wife and Mother
Aged 93