This has been bouncing around in my head for a super long time, and I have no idea why. I haven't watched Doctor Who in ages, and I barely even remember what happens in the seasons I did watch. So, I got all this info from a wiki page on Donna, which pulled all its info from the books and comics. I'm sure somethings aren't right, because it's been so long since I've actually watched the show/specials, so any 'facts' that are wrong are most likely because I don't remember.
Also, I haven't written fanfic in forever, so this is super weird. If anyone even reads this, hope you like it. I'm just happy I got this out of my head after having it stuck in there for a week or something like that.
It starts with a book full of mystery and twists you didn't see coming. Murder on the Orient Express, it's called, and you have no idea why you even picked it out. You were just running errands quickly when you went past the bookstore, and suddenly you stopped as you say it on display in the window. You walked out of that store with it in a little bag, and as soon as you got home you found yourself reading it, clinging to each word like they were more important than the last. You don't know why it feels right to feel it, see it, hold it, read it, but it does.
For half a second an image of a long brown coat and a woman with curled hair floods into your mind, but you brush it aside. And, for some reason, after reading it, you're not especially comfortable around bees anymore.
Odd.
It keeps happening with random things, things that have nothing to do with each other. A documentary on the Terracotta Warriors puts a flash of an exploding palace into your mind. A scene from a movie, maybe? Turning left on that one street on your way to work makes you roll your shoulders, an uncomfortable itch running down your spine like billions of beetles are skittering down it. Snow makes you think of silence, the physical kind, the kind that gets you think about glowing orbs.
With each invasive thought, each random flash, you always see a man, or at least parts of one. Wild brown hair. Dirty red sneakers. Blue pinstripe suit. You swear you've never seen him before, but…
And then, one night, you find yourself outside staring up at the big sky littered with tiny stars. You don't know why, can't even begin to explain it to yourself, but for a second you can imagine what it'd be like to travel among those stars. You think you see a shooting star, but in your gut you know it's something else, something that moans and groans but is so comforting and reliable.
The man constantly hammers away at your brain, messy hair and a messy heart (that's not quite right, although you don't know why) and messy clothes. You can almost hear his voice, almost see his eyes full of determination joy sadness fear kindness anger snark. His name (no, that's not right either) is on the tip of your tongue, something that you feel you should know and be able to speak.
For a second, just one miniscule second, you can remember everything, and you feel such shattering loss mixed with bittersweet happiness at all you've lost but also at all you've gained. You remember all of your journeys and adventures with the Doctor (oh, of course!), and desperately you try to remember all this forever because you don't want to forget this again.
But then you blink, and then wonder why you're outside in the freezing night air.