A/N So this is a headcanon of mineā¦not my first DW fic, but the first one I've posted.
Doctor Who belongs to the BBC, not me.
Memories
Donna Noble was dying. She could tell from the way the nurses talked to her. She felt her imminent departure deep in her bones.
As she lay there, on the uncomfortable hospital bed, her now-silver hair spread across the pillow, a man came in the room.
He wore a tweed coat and a bow tie, and he looked like a geography teacher. Despite the fact that she was sure she had never seen him before, he seemed familiar somehow.
Before she could croak out any snarky remarks, he sat down on the edge of her bed and took her hand.
"Hello, Donna."
She stared up at him. "Who're you?" Her voice was weak, but it still had her usual edge to it.
She thought she saw a tear in his eye. "That's not important. Just trust me, all right?"
The oddness of the situation nearly made Donna laugh. She was dying. What else could she do?
Before she could get another word in edgewise, he shifted his hands to her temples.
Memories flooded her brain.
She remembered.
The Doctor. Her best friend. Everything she did with him. Daleks. Ood. Pompeii. Agatha Christie. The Library. The TARDIS.
She closed her eyes, a wave of content peace washing over her.
The last thing she heard was the flatlining of her heart monitor, and the man's quiet "Goodbye, Donna Noble. We had the best of times."
The Doctor looked down at his best friend. She looked content, peaceful in death. The complete opposite of her nature. He spared her one last look, and exited the room.
