The man in the hospital said she died of an aneurysm. It was an odd thing to think, she was so young, only 42. But that's what he said and Wilfred believed him, even if Sylvia never would.
The funeral was a small one, due to the fact that most of her friends had been ones to giggle and work with, ones you would invite to your wedding, not your funeral. Three of them had shown up for the funeral and daubed at their eyes with handkerchiefs, bemoaning the loss of one so young.
The burial was left to Wilfred, Sylvia, Shaun, and the priest that had married Donna and Shaun. It was a quiet affair on an overcast and humid day. Sylvia sobbed as the casket was lowered into the hole in the ground, while Wilfred and Shaun just allowed the tears to stream down their faces.
After two hours they were gone.
As they drove away, Wilfred could have sworn he saw someone he didn't recognize walk up to the grave, but he had to have been mistaken.
The madman stepped out of his box and pulled it closed behind him with a click. He hoped he was in the right place.
"You told me you always take me to the places I need to go. I really hope you did it this time," he told the blue box.
In his left hand, he held a bouquet of forget-me-nots. A few dried petals shook free and drifted to the ground. Turning quickly on his heel, the Doctor traipsed out of the copse of trees he had landed in and toward the cemetary. The thick grass was springy under his shoes. He stopped at the recently-filled-in grave and stared at his toes for a second before he sighed.
"Hello Donna. Oh, erm, I got these for you." He set down the flowers and stepped back, staring at the cold marble slab. He blinked rapidly and sucked in a deep breath through his nose.
"So, I heard you had a good life, well, I saw you have a good life. I imagine you'd hit me for following you around for the rest of your life."
The madman chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "I saw you had a baby. He's probably a hell-raiser, just like you were.
"D'you see? I'm a ginger now! I told you about that, didn't I? Maybe I didn't, I don't quite remember. But yeah, ginger! And it only took me thirteen regenerations."
The Doctor lifted one half of his mouth in a wistful half smile. "Want to know why you died? It's because you were remembering again. Your brain couldn't handle it, and you died. Oh, DoctorDonna, you were incredible."
He was silent for a long while, gaze fixed on the stone.
A girl trotted up. Her hair was chopped off in a bob, and her bangs were at a slant that almost reached her left eye. "Doctor? You were gone for a long time." She took notice of the grave. "Someone you know?"
He shrugged. "Someone I used to know, a very, very long time ago."
The girl nodded. She almost asked how much longer he was going to be, but she caught sight of desolate expression on his face and held her tongue.
He seemed to shake himself awake. "Well, are you ready to go?"
Author's Note: Well, that's that, my first ever Doctor Who fanfiction! I've been watching it a lot lately, and Donna is definitely my favorite companion (besides River).
This is based off of something I've been seeing going around the internet, and I decided I wanted to extend the story a bit and make it angstier. I believe I succeeded. Now that I think about it, this is the third fanfiction I've written where a character talks to someone's grave...
Please Review and tell me how I did!