Lookie, another ficlet! I seem to be unable to write anything else. Urg.
Disclaimer: I do not, have never, and will never own Doctor Who, no matter how many fake documents declaring my ownership of the show that I may make.
There are some things Donna Noble will never understand. There are gaps in her memories. She can't remember where she was the Christmas the giant spider web attacked, or when little bits of fat walked through the streets, or when cars everywhere started releasing poison gas, or when the Earth was surrounded by planets that hadn't been there before. In fact, she can't remember much about anything to do with those affairs, and she doesn't know why. She doesn't even remember what, exactly, happened to Lance, and she just knows that she ought to, that she was there when whatever happened, happened.
She doesn't understand the looks her grandfather sometimes gives her when she joins him during his stargazing. He tries to hide the looks from her, but she sometimes manages to catch him before he turns his head away. The looks are often pitying, other times regretful. Rarely, they're hopeful, like he thinks she's going to say or do just he's waiting for, but those fade within seconds. Some nights, he's not looking at the constellations. He's simply pointing the telescope here and there, to the most random spots, like he's searching the sky for something. She's asked him why he does this, but his answers are always cryptic: "Oh, an old friend," he said once. "I made a promise to someone," he said another time. "A miracle, sweetheart," is his most common answer. Donna thinks she'll never understand it.
She thinks she understands in her dreams. She knows that she remembers things in her dreams, but everything's always vague and out of focus, and she always forgets within ten minutes of waking up. Sometimes, she'll remember colors. Brown and blue are the ones she gets the most. If she's had a really, really good sleep, she'll sometimes wake up and remember a glowing blue-green, or maybe a shade of orange, or a flash of pale yellow, like dyed hair. The colors are all connected, she thinks, all a part of the same thing, but she can't think of what, or even why she dreams of those colors.
She's more adventurous now, and she doesn't know why that is. When she hears that the most recent phenomenon was a mass hallucination, or a large prank, rather than an alien invasion, she doesn't believe it. Something in her says that yes, it was aliens; aliens are too real. She's never believed that before. The thing that confuses her the most, though, is why she asked for pockets on her wedding dress.
Love it, hate it? Let me know somehow! I absolutely love hearing what readers think.