Haven't written anything DW for years, but I watched Silence and Forest recently and got the idea for this little tag, set post-Forest Of The Dead. Hope you enjoy.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm always alright,"
"Is 'alright' special Time Lord code for 'really not alright at all'?"
"Why?"
"Cos I'm alright too,"
-4.09 Forest Of The Dead
Alright
Snap. As the TARDIS doors shut, Donna leans her head against his chest. Skinny little rat, she once called him, but now he feels solid. He doesn't hug her back but she feels him lean his weight towards her, propping her up. Abruptly, Donna notices the thud of his heartbeats (thud of his hearts beat? Thuds of his heartbeat?). She's still getting her heard around that idea- two hearts? How do they fit? Is everything else the same inside him except for the hearts, or does he have some sort of special Time Lord rubber-ribcage and elongated lungs as well? Does he have completely different organs to humans? A sigh builds in the Doctor and when he exhales Donna moves away from him. He gives her a little smile and goes over to the console to stroke the TARDIS's levers, and she hums appreciatively.
"So is River...dead?" Donna can't help but ask.
"She's in the computer," the Doctor answers, flicking switches and not looking at her, "She's with CAL,"
"But I've been in the computer," Donna continues uneasily, "It wasn't right- it wasn't real. It was like...it was nice but it wasn't...there was something off. It was all too simple,"
"Because of the corruption in the system, because of the Vashta Nerada infiltrating the library. And because of you and me and River and Anita and Other Dave and Proper Dave,"
"And Miss Evangelista," Donna puts in.
"Yeah. Because of her," he agrees softly, then continues in his loud subject-changing voice, "But that's fixed. CAL was upset because we were in her library and now we've left her in peace,"
"So River's in CAL's world? That's not real, Doctor. Things happened in seconds, years passed and you thought things had happened but they hadn't. Miss Evangelista's face..."
The Doctor can see she's panicking and goes round towards her, stops in front of her (the Doctor notes that if this was Martha he'd have put his hands on her shoulders).
"Donna,"
"My children vanished! I told you, a little boy and girl, twins, they were lovely, they were lovely even if they weren't real. They were my children and when I was putting them to bed they disappeared!"
"Donna," he says again.
"I loved them so much- we were such a happy family- and then Miss Evangelista showed me how they were the same as all the other children and I...we dashed home, except we didn't we just were home, and I was holding onto them. And when I was putting them to bed and they said they didn't exist, they said they weren't there when I closed my eyes. I pretended I wasn't scared, and I promised never to close my eyes and I cuddled them and they were gone. My children vanished in my arms,"
"I'm sorry," he says gently, after a pause.
"And it wasn't real but it was real to me then. My children, Doctor, gone,"
"I know". He's using that toneless voice like he does when he's sad, Donna notes. When he's sad but he doesn't want to talk about it. She hears that tone a lot.
"Where are they now?" she asks after a pause, "Where are Josh and Ella?"
"I don't know. They- they probably weren't two of the 4022 saved. They weren't in the library at all, only a-"
"...a figment of imagination. That's why all the kids in that world were the same, right? Made up by the computer. They weren't ever in the library,"
"Well, not exactly the sort of place to bring two children is it?"
"But to make a child live in its system forever," Donna can't help but add, "Doctor...saving to the library is just hope, isn't it? CAL died. When people are dead, some bit of them- of their consciousness- is saved but nothing real-
"Where d'you reckon next, then? Blanstadius? The Leaning Palace of Putursia? Leeds? There's a great record shop in Leeds in the 1970s, let's see if they've got a first edition Ziggy Stardust, eh?" he gabbles, yanking levers.
"No!" Donna snaps, "Let's talk! All these crazy things happen and for you it's back in your TARDIS pretending it doesn't affect you. I saw- horrible things today, Doctor: Miss Evangelista ghosting, Dave getting ...eaten by the shadows, living in a computer fantasy world with Miss Evangelista's face melted and my children vanishing,"
"I know. I'm s-"
"- sorry, you're so sorry. That's all you ever say. You come out with big speeches in the moment and you turn your puppydog eyes on but when it comes down to it...ugh, you're such a man," Donna growls, then catches herself, "Are you a man? Do Time Lords have...men? Gender?"
"Broadly speaking," the Doctor answers with a tiny smirk.
"Well...talk," she splutters, "Tell me how you feel". She cringes at herself, and attempts to gloss over that awful line with a jokey, "God knows neither of us ever shut up about everything else!"
The Doctor gives a weak smile, and doesn't even try to be subtle when he turns away from her. "Sad. Upset". There's a long pause in which Donna resists the temptation to point out at those two words mean the same thing. Finally he mutters, "Guilty,"
"Guilty?"
"All those people I couldn't save," he mumbles, "All the danger I put you in,"
"I signed up for that,"
"You signed up for adventure. Not necessarily danger and death and- you said yourself, the world in the computer, your children. You just said how...hard that all was". His voice gets quieter until by the end of the sentence he's mumbling.
"Doctor, the day we met I was teleported into your TARDIS, fighting Father Christmas and drowning a giant red spider who controlled my fiancé,"
"True," he concedes, "But...when River...if hadn't been there maybe they'd have all...I don't know,"
"If you hadn't been there they'd all be dead, not in the-"
"You said being in the computer wasn't much better than being dead," he points out.
"Well they're a bit less dead than they would have been if you hadn't been there!" she shouts. The Doctor winces. They're both silent for several seconds. Perhaps getting him to talk doesn't do either of them any favours, Donna thinks glumly.
"River Song, eh?" she smirks, changing the subject.
"What about her?" the Doctor asks innocently, looking up from the console.
"Who is she, d'you reckon?"
"Dunno. But I do know," he says softly, "That every time I see her in my future I'll know how it ends for her. Well, ends in this world. I'll know that she sacrificed herself for the 4022. For me. Guilt, see," he adds, with a twig of his eyebrow.
"Yeah, but come on. 'Come for help- kiss'. 'Prettyboy'. Touching your face and staring into your eyes like some kind of space Juliet,"
The Doctor makes a high-pitched non-committal noise.
"I reckon our Professor River Song is more than 'just a mate'," Donna continues.
"I don't think so," the Doctor dismisses.
"Like it hasn't happened before. What about Martha, what about the way you insisted that I would nev-"
"Alright," he says rather too sharply, "Perhaps River is some sort of...maybe," he coughs, avoiding giving a noun, "I'll have to find out. Life of a time traveller, Donna". Usually he'd say this sort of thing which a smirk, although this time his mouth remains flat.
"Doctor,"
"God, what is it now?" he sighs. He said that too her once before, he remembers, the day they first met. That insane, breathless, bamboozling day when he'd been so miserable and hadn't told her why.
He's tired, Donna realises- they're both physically and emotionally knackered after this library business. She'd like to sleep, although she isn't convinced that she'll be able to, or that she wants to be on her own. She's never seen the Doctor sleep- assumes he must, but she isn't River Song, she doesn't want to watch him sleep like some sort of syrupy schoolgirl.
"Next time something like this happens- something...horrible," she grimaces.
"Mmm,"
"Tell me about it. Talk about it. I know I sound like a mum but I...I want you to talk,"
"'Kay,"
"Promise," she insists.
He looks at her, "Alright."
Thank you for your time- please review to let me know what you thought. Thanks.