A quick little angst I threw together to get over my writer's block. I blame the writer's block on a combination of the ending of 'A Good Man Goes to War' plus the next chapter of House of Cards...STRESS.

Reviews are just delightful. If you don't offer a review, I expect cake instead.

The Doctor's life was on the line.

It was as simple, as plain, and as cold as that.

Donna Noble didn't know everything about this culture—she barely knew anything, actually. The Doctor had told her so much, and now, how she wished she had listened. She was so busy fussing over the resort brochures, picking away at each individual retreat and fighting herself over which one she'd try first. He had such passion in his eyes; that, at least, she knew. He lived for her smile, and she took his passionate enthusiasm for granted.

But she knew that they would accept blood for blood. She pleaded for the Doctor's life as best she could, but in the end it was all about blood.

And so she made a contract with the Prime Minister of Delforth II, offering her own life in place of the Doctor's. It was her fault, really; he had opened a star chart within the console room, and out of every planet within infinite galaxies, she'd picked this one. Heard about all of the countless nitpicky laws punishable by death, but saw the gleam of the rolling oceans and the white sands of the breathtaking beaches, and picked this planet.

The Doctor saw the bright gleam in her eyes, and submitted. As he always did.

And when one of the laws was inadvertently violated by the Doctor and he was torn away from her by a swarm of soldiers, she knew there was only one thing she could do.

She signed.

She had to.

She was allowed to leave one final message to the Doctor, recorded in a room stuffed full of soldiers. She swore to herself, she demanded herself that she not break down and cry…she didn't want the Doctor to see her take the last adventure with tears in her eyes. But for all of her wishing, all of her feigned strength, as the recording began, her emotions tore through her façade.

"Doctor, I…oh, you bloody idiot…Doctor, I know that right now you're saying that I never should have done this but you're wrong. Doctor, just shut up, I know you're talking through this, but it's too late… Please, Doctor, I—I can't live, Doctor, I couldn't without you. I mean, it's not what I really thought when I ran off with you that night after the fat babies and everything, but I knew I'd spent the rest of my life with you.

"I wish I'd known when I first met you everything I know now. I never would've left you, not ever. Doctor, I can't even tell you how much you've meant to me. Well…I mean, you're the most important part of my entire life. I'd never lived before I met you. I didn't even know what living was, not really. You've shown me everything, Doctor, and thank you. Every minute of it, everything that scared me to death and was totally horrible and terrifying, all of it was better than my old life. Because no matter what was terrible, no matter what was so awful I could hardly stand it, it led to something beautiful, something better. And so will this.

"Now…don't you get into trouble, Doctor. Just keep being you, and I know that the universe is better for it. Keep on running…maybe someday you'll catch up to me."

That was where the video shorted out. The Doctor stared at the screen, eyes red and lips shaking. Even the soldiers in the room averted their eyes as the tears rolled down his face.

It was hours before he left. At the door to his TARDIS, he heard a voice call out his name; he turned to see the Prime Minister running towards him, holding up a hand.

"Leave me be," the Doctor said, his voice low. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep his arms rigidly at his sides. "You've done enough; leave me be."

"Please, Mr. Doctor, let me say one thing." The Delfrothian caught his breath after the short run. "That woman, your Donna. In ten thousand years of our law, no one has ever offered up their life in exchange for someone else's."

"That was Donna, yeah," the Doctor replied, looking away. "She didn't do what people would do, she did what they should do."

"It was an extraordinary sacrifice."

"She was an extraordinary woman. Better than extraordinary." The Doctor's knuckles whitened as his grip on the handle to the TARDIS's door tightened. "Leave me be," he repeated, his voice shaking. This time, the Prime Minister obeyed, backing up slowly before running from the storage room the ship was kept in.

The Doctor entered the TARDIS, where he realized the star charts were still open. The universe there, at his fingertips…

The universe there, all eyes glaring at him, judging his worthless state. Donna Noble had sacrificed herself for him; he didn't have the sense to guide her away from the planet he knew was trouble. He gritted his teeth, staring at the cloudy masses of holographic worlds filling the console room. Judging him, as they had every right to do.

It was his fault that his best friend was dead.

He could travel to any one of those stars, to any one of those tiny, insignificant little worlds, but he couldn't escape his guilt.

"Leave me be!" he roared into the universe.