Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, blah, blah, blah. Also, the idea for this story was inspired by a drawing my friend did, who in turn got that idea from Pinterest. So thank you, Pinterest!
Hope you enjoy, reviews, etc. appreciated as always!
The Doctor turned away from Wilfred's well-meant salute and slowly walked back into the TARDIS, doing his best not to give into the crushing ache in his soul. It wasn't fair, that Donna should forget all their time together, cursed never to know the wonders they'd explored, torn between the choices of life or past memories.
He pulled a few knobs on the console and sucked in a breath as another spike of pain shot through his regenerating body. The time machine hummed in worried protest at his continued avoidance of the inevitable, but the man from Gallifrey ignored the gentle telepathic nudges his ship was giving him and sent her into orbit.
"Just a few more stops, Old Girl." He promised under his breath. Just a few trips away from the end of an old life and the start of a new one.
The end of an old life… The idea came so quickly it had almost fled before he could grasp its significance, but he clung to it with all the desperation of a drowning soul. He frantically pushed more buttons and flipped some levers, hoping against hope that this crazy notion would work as the TARDIS landed.
Straightening up, he strode over the door and stepped into a hospital lobby. No one surprisingly took any notice of the strange blue police box and man in a crumpled suit that'd appeared out of nowhere. A wry smile tugged at the Doctor's lips in spite of himself. Humans.
He turned to the receptionist, a perky blonde with bright pink fingernails that clacked over her keyboard. Another pang coursed through his hearts. Rose's favorite color… He shook himself free from the plethora of painful memories and approached the desk.
"Could you please tell me what room Mrs. Temple-Noble is in?" He asked, shoving his twitching fingers deep into his pants pockets.
"That would be room 326, hon." She responded cheerfully around the bubblegum in her mouth. "The family's with her now, elevators are to your left."
The Doctor thanked her and walked back into the TARDIS, who had by now deduced his plan and questioned concernedly if he thought this was the right thing to do. He avoided her question as he set the time coordinates, again stepping into the hospital, now six hours later and in front of a door that read '326' in white letters. Hesitation seeped into the Doctor's veins for the first time, as he stood indecisive before the door.
"Should I really do this? Maybe things are best as they are." He thought uneasily, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Two nurses suddenly emerged from the room, breaking his musings as he slid into the shadows unobserved.
"It won't be long now, maybe minutes." One commented quietly, checking the clipboard she held in her hands.
"I'll go to the lounge and wake the family." The other returned as their voices faded down the hallway.
Doubt vanished as quickly as his previous companions as the Doctor stepped tentatively into the sick room. He stiffened as he entered; Death had already marked this place as his own, and now that being taunted the centuries-old alien.
"You can't hide forever, old man," Death scoffed. "You're dying again, so why not just give it up now and skip all this pain?"
"Not now, not yet." The Doctor muttered against set teeth, fists clenching involuntarily.
"No," Death said seriously. "But soon, if even just for a short while as you change who you are and turn into someone else."
The Time-Lord ignored this comment and walked over to the bed, gazing on the elderly woman that lay there, eyes closed. Her wavy grey hair still held a tinge of its original red and her paper-thin skin barely moved with the slight rise-and-fall of her rasping breath, like the dry rustle of paper before a fire.
"Donna?" The Doctor whispered hoarsely, kneeling next to the dying woman's bedside as her eyes weakly fluttered open, focusing on the strange man before her.
"Do I know you?" She asked softly, peering into his face as confusion etched yet another wrinkle on her forehead.
A sad smile floated across the time traveler's lips at the irony of his situation. "No," He admitted. "But you did, once."
"Wha-"
"I'm sorry," The Doctor interrupted hastily. "But I think the most important woman in the universe has a right to remember…one last time."
So saying, he gently placed his fingers on the old woman's temples, pressing their foreheads together despite her feeble protests.
"Remember me, Donna, remember me." He begged under his breath, focusing in his mind of all their shared adventures and channeling it to her.
A dreadful heartbeat of agonizing silence followed, before Donna jerked away, eyes filling with both tears and memories long ago taken from her.
"Sp-Space Man?"
An unexpected lump rose in the Doctor's throat. "Yes, Earth Girl, it's me."
Donna sighed in contentment, a shadow of her cheeky grin crossing her face. "Thank you, Doctor." She murmured, eyes closing as she succumbed to Death's tender embrace.
"Donna…Donna!" The Doctor said urgently, already knowing that she would never respond. The Time-Lord allowed himself one small outpouring of grief as forbidden tears spilled down his cheeks. "Goodbye." He managed, giving her stiffening hand one last squeeze before standing and leaving the room.
His Converse growing heavier with every step he took, the Doctor made it back to the TARDIS and shut the door behind him with a soft click. The Donna that had just passed away was one her husband and children had never known. This Donna had been to the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, rescued the Ood from slavery, investigated live fat, of all things, and had saved the entire universe…himself included. This Donna had died as she ought to have lived.
He sighed wearily and rested his head against the console as pain again racked his body like a seizure, a vivid reminder of his own waning state.
The TARDIS hummed soothingly, knowing the gut-wrenching heartache her thief was going through. A haunting melody began to play, a few simple notes that echoed throughout the silent ship, conveying the empathy and care that words failed to express.
The Time-Lord closed his eyes and let the music wash over him in waves of nostalgia as the box spun through space to their next goodbye stop. Despite the hurt gnawing his insides, the Doctor's hearts were strangely at peace, knowing his beloved ship would always be there, no matter the years, no matter the face. The Doctor and the TARDIS, traveling space and time together.