TRY TO REMEMBER
EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING BELONGS TO THE BBC AND RUSSELL T DAVIES, EXCEPT THE CONCEPT OF THE STORY. THANK YOU TO TABITHA12 FOR BEING THE ULTIMATE BETA! TITLE IS IN HONOR OF MR. BARROWMAN'S AWESOME VOICE AND HOW WELL HE DOES THAT SONG.
Complaining loudly about a headache, Donna Noble retired early, leaving her grandfather staring after her worriedly.
"That's the fourth one this week," he frowned at his daughter.
"She's had a dozen headaches in a week without making you get stirred up," the woman sniffed, but her eyes belied her words.
"Not at this time of day; before twas always a hangover causing it. And, don't get me wrong, that worried me, but she hasn't been drinking, not as much." He shook his head. "You know that from time to time, she just comes out with odd statements, things our Donna shouldn't know or say, but she does. I think whatever the Doctor did to make her forget isn't lasting."
"You said you liked her better when she was with him," Mrs. Noble argued.
"Never said that," the old man huffed. "I said she was a better person with him, but I liked her fine as she was, loved her. New and improved or old and brassy, she's still Donna and my granddaughter. I just want her to be all right. Besides, you heard what he said, if she remembers, it'll burn her up. Now, I don't know about any of that spontaneous human combustion stuff you read about in the Sun or the Mirror, but we've both seen a lot that doesn't seem like you could explain it except that it were something from another world or the like. Don't want that happening to Donna, not to anyone, but especially not her."
"You think I do, old man? She's my child! Even if it is what you think, what can we do?"
"Call the Doctor. I've got that phone number that Torchwood broadcast for him back when the world was stolen," Wilf suggested. "Or call them. Bet that Captain bloke would have an idea or two."
"Of that I've no doubt; whether or not it'd be a helpful one is doubtful." More worried than she wanted to admit and angry for no reason she could define, Mrs. Noble announced she had caught her daughter's head pain and was going to bed.
In the pressing, lonely silence, Wilf dialed a number he shouldn't have known, but had managed to find.
XXX
Within a few hours, a black SUV pulled up in front of the Noble house and out of it stepped Captain Jack Harkness. He had feared something like this would happen. The Doctor was not infallible, after all. Besides, he knew all too well what it was like to lose a portion of one's memory. Jack did have his memory back. In the last two thousand or so years, he had died several thousand times. Each time, his life had flashed before his eyes until gradually, he had been able to put together the missing pieces. He did not like all that he had seen, but had to admit, it wasn't as bad as he had feared it would be. Some of what was missing were the years of "training" the Time Agency had subjected him to, turning him into someone who used their body like a tool. If sleeping with a five-eyed, green-eared alien with no specific gender would get the mission done, Jack was ready, willing and able to do it or anything else, thanks to the conditioning the once upon a time farm-boy had undergone. Corners were made to be cut, unless they were agency corners. Nothing, not anyone else's opinion on the greater good, not safety, and certainly not morals could get in the way of the MISSION. Or that was how he had been trained to believe until he had realized something had been stolen from his mind and the desire to have it back had snapped their hold on him.
Now, something akin, though not at all like what had been inflicted on his mind, had happened to Donna the Noble, as he had come to think of the brassy lady. It was his duty to get her through it, safe and sane. Besides, it annoyed him that he'd had to fix his teleport machine, AGAIN, after the Doctor had broken it, AGAIN. Oh, he had researched Doc's history, and you would THINK the man would have some sympathy and let his toys alone. After all, in his third life, the Doctor had been stranded on Earth in just one time zone, in one area of the planet, unless he wanted to use normal means of transportation. Could we say hypocritical much? Oh, yeah.
As Jack entered the cozy house, Wilf asked, "You really think you can help her?"
"I'm reasonably sure, yeah," Jack nodded, glancing around. The agent in him took notice of every detail, filing and cataloging each bit of information he observed, even though he likely did not need to. "Nothing's a hundred percent in this life, not even death." Despite the charming smile that flashed across his countenance, there was something very serious under his words that caused a shiver down the old man's spine. This young fellow had seen and done too much in his time on Earth, and other places. That was certain.
"I don't think the Doctor hurt her on purpose, you understand," Wilf added gruffly. "Seeing him watch over her like he did, I'd never believe that."
Almost gently, Jack agreed, "No, he'd never hurt any of his companions intentionally. Never doubted him on that score, never will. But, he doesn't really know much about humans, particularly the human mind. Incredible device the human brain is, you know? There's always a backup copy of every bit of data in there, and you can't just wipe it out, just seal off access to it. Only problem is, your mind KNOWS that it's supposed to be there and the gap is like an itch on your psyche, soul, whatever. You'll keep trying to scratch it until you remember or go nuts. Donna's case is a little different; she got alien energy grafted onto her human body, so her physical self has tried to adapt as well."
"You're saying she's an alien now?
"Nope, not unless you'd consider her a robot if she had to have a bionic leg or arm implanted." Making a face, Jack added, "Scratch the last comment. At this stage of the game, Earthlings don't do that to any great extent, but you will."
"I take your meaning, young man."
If you only knew," Jack thought dourly. He had been on this planet, under it anyway, for over two-thousand years, but didn't feel a day over fifteen hundred. "Human alien crossbreeds will also become more common in the years to come, and sometimes, the mixes are problematic. Drug therapies will be created to help the pregnant mothers adapt, kind of like the ones they use to help with the RH factors in ordinary, human pregnancies now. Those are all at least three centuries away, but fortunately, I've got some." For half a second, a grin flashed on his face.
"How long will she have to be on it?" Wilf asked with a troubled look. "Unless you've got a powerful lot of it, in a few weeks or months, years, no matter how long it turns out to be, she'll need more, but you'll have run out."
Jack shook his head. "It's not something she has to be on forever, just a few weeks, until her genetic structure is aligned properly. A woman usually only takes it for the first trimester, which can vary depending on what planet the father is from, of course,then she only needs it again if a future pregnancy happens with someone from a different planet. That can vary, even among human variants. Granted, it was a little hard to figure out a mix that was right for Gallifreyan DNA, but we do have samples from the Doctor at the Hub. Don't ask how we got them, please. Just don't. Dr. Jones came up with a blend that we're ninety seven percent certain will work."
"She's to be a guinea pig?" the frown turned angry on these words.
"I wish she didn't have to be, but let's face it, there's not much choice, except to let her go mad slowly and then die painfully." The words were harsh and blunt, but had the desired effect of shocking Wilf into silence.
Backing down slightly, Jack went on, "At worst, this will have no effect on her and I'll get slapped because the needle used to deliver the time release capsule is very painful. I'm sure she'll want to share the misery."
"You do know her, then."
"Wasn't hard to figure that out, no."
As Jack began pulling paraphernalia out of his briefcase, Wilf watched apprehensively before commenting, "I thought that the main problem with my girl was what was in her mind, not her body. How are you going to fix that?"
"With this." Jack held up what appeared to be a stick on thermometer. "This is an adaptation of psychic paper. In the forty-second century, following the tenth world war, there was an epidemic of post-traumatic stress related amnesia. The memories were still IN the victims' heads, but sealed off, along with other information that they needed or wanted to recall. This little baby here will read the entire contents of a mind and make a copy. Then, I run the micro-strip through a reader and it sorts out what she needs, might want, and what she can't handle." He pulled out a set of suction cups, much like the ones Wilf recalled from his regular EKG exams. "These attach to her head then, and the sorted copy of her memories is fed through and overwrites the scrambled set. Her mind still has the exact same information in it, just categorized into a form she can deal with without a meltdown. I'll add in a filter that is invented during the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire; it will allow her to access the cut off information in mentally digestible bites." Seeing the bewildered expression on the old one's face, Jack grinned. "None of this makes a bit of sense, does it, to you? Sorry, but the only explanation I can give is kind of far out. Like the Doctor, I'm a time traveler, when all my equipment is working. I've been farther than Donna has been and seen more, in time and in space."
Shaking his head, Donna's grandpa sighed, "Long as you know what you're doing, young man, that's all that matters, if it will make her well."
"Trust me."
Somehow, Wilf was sure it was a request that was often honored.
"What now?"
"We make sure that she's knocked out -- makes it easier to access her subconscious mind."
"Are there side effects?"
"Emotional -- she'll have to cope with feelings of betrayal, loss, trying to re-orient her mind. Months of her life have been a lie essentially. And, people she cares about did lie to her, by omission if nothing else." A shadow passed over Jack's face. "When you have part of your mind taken, it's almost like a rape. There's a sense of vertigo, and anger. Lots of anger will come." Holding up a hand, he cut off the protests. "Yeah, I know, everyone thought it was for her own good, for the best, even to save her life. But, unless you've had it happen, you can't get how devastating an experience it is I'm the one most to blame, though. I knew what the Doctor thought was the right thing to do, and what could happen, but did I speak up? You and Sylvia were just scared and desperate. The Doctor doesn't really understand us humans as well as he thinks he does. You can't unless you are one. But, meaning well doesn't mean you can't cause harm. So, I'll fix her."
As they entered the bedroom, Jack moved very quietly, silently, in fact, to stand beside the gently snoring woman. Quickly, without a second's hesitation, he jabbed a needed into her. For a moment, he feared she'd wake before the sedative could kick in, but then, Donna settled into a deeper slumber. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack set to work.
"Now what?" Wilf asked.
Lost in concentration, Jack was only dimly aware of the old man's words. Deftly, he rolled back the covers and the sleeve on the battered Rugby shirt Donna slept in to reveal her arm. Pulling out a syringe, he jabbed her with it.
"Time released dosage," he noted aloud. "Over the next three months, minute amounts of the genetic alteration therapy will ease her body into being essentially one fourth Time Lord." The proper term would have been Gallifreyan, but it wasn't the kind of word one said at four a.m. -- not easily.
For a moment, as she stirred and he feared Donna would rouse and slap him. It was a big needle and her wince was understandable. Yet, the second passed and he breathed a sigh of relief. Placing the needle in a medical waste bag, Jack moved to step two, placing the psychic strip on her forehead.
Thanks to the enormous amount of information in an average human mind, combined with the wealth she had absorbed from the Doctor in the bio transfer, this took a long time. By the time it was done, Jack could smell breakfast cooking as Sylvia began to stir.
"Dad, why's there a black SUV in the driveway?"
"She can't wake yet," Jack hissed. "Get your kid to be quiet."
Though it had been ages since anyone called his daughter a "kid," Wilf reluctantly exited to obey orders.
When the strip changed color, Jack pulled it away and fed it into his machine. Fortunately, the high powered miniature computer processed it rapidly, spitting out the new psycho- neural overlay in minutes.
Gently, he laid it into position and waited for the overwrite to complete.
XXX
An indeterminate amount of time later, as Jack entered the kitchen after leaving Donna to sleep off the drug. He found Wilf and Sylvia engaged in a heated, whispered argument.
"How can you let people like that anywhere NEAR my daughter after what she suffered and after what that man said?"
"Because she was suffering more without knowing and because that young fella said he could help!"
"Help? Ha! She is just fine without HELP."
"She IS a grand girl, but she needs her past, and having that stolen from her was wrong."
"Mrs. Noble, I did nothing that will hurt Donna. She's probably not going to be happy with the world, Hell, with the universe at large, when she wakes up, but I can't fix that, and wouldn't if I could. You can't tell anyone what to feel or what they have a right to feel," Jack cut in deftly. "Could I have a cup of coffee? It's been a long night."
"Right away, sir, right away," Wilf nodded, rising to fill the request.
"Thank you."
Nervous hours of waiting ensued. Finally, there was a bang as Donna's size ten feet hit the floor, muttered curses following a thump, probably indicating she'd bumped her bedpost hard, and the sound of stomping feet as she stormed into the kitchen. "What the HELL happened to me and WHY didn't anyone EVER TELL ME about all those MONTHS I was off in space with Martian boy?"
"He's not Martian," Jack attempted to inject a spot of humor.
With a withering look, Donna paused in her tirade to glare at him. "I know. Gallifreyan. Mars, Gallifrey, I don't care. What I want to know is why you LET ME WANDER around clueless for ages, feeling like I was missing something?"
"He told us your brain would fry," Wilf tried.
"Big, skinny Dumbo," she bit out. "When I get my hands on him… Where is he? Why'd he come and reverse it if he thought it was the RIGHT thing to do?"
"He didn't, I did," Jack cut in. "I don't know where he is, much less when, but we do have the TARDIS phone number."
"Sweetheart, do you really want to find him? We just got you home," Sylvia said in a soothing tone. "Please, stay here, with us."
Softening only slightly, Donna turned to her Mum. "It's not that I don't love you or want to be with you, but, Ma, how can I settle for a life like this after all I've seen? And, I need to know what I am now. I'm different, and not just my mind, but I feel like I'm not normal, I don't mean in a bad way, but just different. What if I get sick? One drop of my blood and I'll be locked in a lab."
"Got that covered." Jack tossed her a medical alert bracelet. "Long as you have that, if you have an emergency, a UNIT or Torchwood doctor will immediately be dispatched to any hospital or doctor's office you are taken to and no one except one of them will touch you, unless they want to risk treason charges. What's more, you and any child you ever have get free medical care, for life, if you need it. Chances are you won't."
Slipping it on, Donna sniffed, "Still, I can hardly go back to temping. I mean, I know more than most of the eggheads at Cambridge and Oxford combined now; seen more, too."
"That's covered, also. Torchwood has openings. I'd created a job for Sarah Jane Smith, but she doesn't want it. Now that your memory is back, it'd be perfect for you."
"So I'm second choice?"
"Not at all, ideally, every one of the Doctor's former companions would work for us, but that's not going to happen. I would have offered it to you immediately after finding out you were Earthbound, but with the memory thing, well, didn't make a lot of sense to offer you a position. Now, it does," was the easy response. "I realize with your level of knowledge, being a subordinate probably holds little appeal…"
"About as much as moving to Cardiff," she sniffed.
"Right, so here's my idea. London Torchwood needs to be reopened. After you spend some time in Cardiff to train in what it means to work for Torchwood, you would head up the revamped Canary Wharf offices."
Stunned, and somewhat mollified, Donna frowned. "You mean you'll need a secretary there?"
"Probably, but we'll get you one, maybe even a cute guy," Jack winked. "Someone with the secrets of the cosmos in their head does not make coffee and do steno work. You'll be at the top; people will answer to you, not the other way around." He hesitated. "I could try and find the Doctor again, but rather wait until you cool down. You are going to cool down, someday, I hope?"
"Someday, maybe," she huffed. "I can't believe I forgot my own wedding! Okay, that was worth forgetting, but I forgot the Oood, and meeting Agatha Christie. I invented Miss Marple! And, Pompeii, out the window, not to mention the Sontarans and the world made of a diamond -- and the library."
Obviously, she has gained the Doc's ability to babble, Jack concluded silently. "You didn't get to choose. Sorry I missed seeing you at Pompeii, but I was in a bit of a rush."
"What were you doing in Pompeii?" Sylvia asked.
"Trying to earn a buck, but not get burned on Volcano Day," he shrugged.
Under her withering gaze, he cleared his throat and went on, "Anyhow, I think you'll like working for Torchwood; it's as close to TARDIS travel as you can get without leaving Earth. It's demanding in all kinds of ways, but the pay is good and you won't get bored."
"If it's so wonderful, why did Sarah Jane turn you down?"
"Good question. Easy answer is she has a son she has to raise. One I'd like onboard, actually, but he is a little young. Like I said, it's dangerous, so she can't risk making him an orphan, especially considering his origin," Jack shrugged. "There is one thing I should tell you. Thanks to a few advanced methods we have, I was able to revive Harriet Jones, and she's going to be working at Canary Wharf; hope you can deal with her."
"Sure that's not why Sarah Jane didn't take the job?" Donna asked.
"Not completely, no, but she's a gutsy lady, too valuable to lose. Not a bad kisser, either." He thought back to the day he'd used his special talent to wake up the ex-Prime Minister. Who'd have thought the ice lady could respond like she had?
"Is that one of the benefits?" Now, Donna did look interested as she gave Jack an appraising look.
"It's up for grabs," he winked, "Long as I get to grab back."
"Ahem," Sylvia cleared her throat, "I'm not sure I like the sound of this."
"I'm a grown woman, Mum, and have seen plenty of danger," Donna argued. "I like the sound of it, so I'll do it. But, if I get the chance, I have to at least TALK to the Doctor."
"I want ringside seats when you do," Jack quipped, "Plus the right to sell tickets."
"I get a sixty percent cut," Donna shot back.
"Fifty-fifty," Jack countered. He could really get to like this lady.
"Done."
"Welcome to Torchwood."