Title: What Would I Do Without You?
Pairing: Ten/Donna (if you squint)
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship
Cat: Gen
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Sometimes the Doctor thinks he'd be better off alone. But does he really mean that?
Author's Note: Not much to say here, other than I'm a horrible person & I've been craving fic where the Doctor makes Donna cry & then comforts her because he realized he was a jerk. So, there's that disclaimer out of the way. (And if you know anything about me, you know my tendency for happy endings, so keep that in mind.) Enjoy!

They stomped back into the TARDIS, the Doctor ripping off his coat and throwing it off to one side. Donna swallowed and watched the brown fabric billow to the floor, then turned her attention back to the Time Lord in front of her.

"I said I was sorry," she said, though the bite in her voice didn't sound all that apologetic. "How in the world was I to know I was being offensive? It's not as though you told me, and news flash! I'm not some omniscient alien like you!"

He didn't look at her as he took his place at the console and got the ship into the vortex. "I'm not omniscient," he muttered.

"Well, you sure act like it sometimes," Donna snapped, then headed down the hallway to her bedroom, not even waiting for a reply.

The Doctor stood at the console, yanking levers and slapping buttons, his irritation palpable. "Bloody typical. Can't go anywhere without trouble." He sighed. "I'd be better off on my own."

Behind him, unknown to the Doctor, Donna stood in the hallway, having come back to have a word with him. But after hearing his words, she turned and fled for her room, attempting to keep herself from crying to no avail.

She sat heavily on her bed, then stared at the floor for a few minutes, before getting up and retrieving a suitcase from her wardrobe. If he wanted to be alone, she would make it easier for him.

Donna couldn't stop her hands from shaking as she pulled clothes from hangers and folded them into somewhat neat bundles, trying to focus on packing things into the open luggage, but when she grabbed the purple dress she'd been given in Pompeii, she was undone, and sank to her knees, unable to stop herself from giving a choked sob.

Back in the console room, the Doctor frowned at the levers before him as he contemplated the day's events, but a note of urgency from the TARDIS made him look up and take notice.

"What is it?" he asked aloud, even though he knew the ship wouldn't respond vocally. She was giving off a distress signal of some sort. Something was wrong. Something. . . His eyes widened. "Donna? Is Donna alright?"

The note of urgency grew and that was all it took for the Doctor to sprint down the hallway, calling out for his companion as he did so.

Once he reached Donna's bedroom, he didn't even bother knocking, just barged right in, calling out, "Donna, are you okay?"

His abrupt entrance shocked Donna up from the floor, and she quickly brushed her hands over her face in an attempt to rid herself of her tears. "What the hell do you think you're doing, barging in here? I could have been naked!"

The Doctor had enough grace to look sheepish at that, but he wasn't about to let that dissuade him from explaining himself. "The TARDIS. . . She was giving me a distress signal. . . I thought maybe something happened. . ." He finally stopped to look at her and saw she'd been crying. There was no hiding that. He felt his hearts drop. "Donna? What's wrong?"

She couldn't bear the look of concern on his face and turned away from him, wiping at her face again. "Nothing. I'm fine."

He risked taking a step closer to her. "You're not fine. You've been crying."

She suddenly turned back toward him, surprising him and making him take a step back. "Oh, decided to notice that, did you?"

"What?" the Doctor asked, thoroughly confused about why she was being so hostile. "Donna, I don't. . . What are you talking about?"

Tears shimmered in her eyes anew as she explained, too upset to hide it anymore. "If you wanted me to go, you could have just told me."

That certainly wasn't what he was expecting her to say. "What in the world. . . Donna, where would you ever get an idea like that?"

"From you!" she shouted, then lowered her voice. "I had come back to give you another piece of my mind, but you were talking to yourself – or to the TARDIS, whatever, same thing – and I heard you." Her voice cracked as she finished. "You said you'd be better off on your own." She let out a soft sob then, turning for her bed and sinking down onto it, avoiding the Doctor's worried gaze.

"Oh, Donna." He wasn't sure what else to say. He just knew he had to assure her he wanted her there, needed her there. He hesitantly moved toward the bed and sat next to her, cautious of any sudden slaps he might receive – though he supposed if she heard him say that and assumed he wanted her to leave, he deserved a slap. "I didn't mean that. Haven't you ever said something in anger that you didn't really mean?" She didn't answer him, just sniffled, and the sound tore at his insides. "Come here," he said, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. He put his other arm around her in a proper hug, and she let down her barriers and began to cry properly, her hand sneaking under his blazer to fist into his shirt.

He let her cry against him for a few minutes, rubbing soothing hands on her back, before he spoke again. "Do you know why I was so angry about what happened today?"

Donna sniffled again. "Because I couldn't keep my big gob shut?" she mumbled into his shirt.

He didn't even laugh at that, just tugged her even closer to him. "No, Donna. I was angry because of what they wanted to do. We're lucky we got out of there when we did."

Donna pushed away from him slightly so she could look him in the eye. "What were they going to do?"

When he looked down at her, she could see fire in his eyes. "They weren't what I expected. They were much worse. Much, much worse."

"Doctor?"

His chin dropped to his chest for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was strained. "They would have tortured you. Tortured, raped and murdered. I saw the hunger in their eyes when they looked at you, and then when you argued with them, they were practically broadcasting their desires all over their faces. We had to leave, immediately, not just because of what they would have done to you, but because what I would have done to them."

He had tightened his hold on Donna as he spoke and she felt him trembling, whether from anger or some other emotion she couldn't be sure. Then she thought of his words, what would have happened if they hadn't left, and she let out a low moan. "I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, and before the Doctor could say anything, she bolted out of his arms and into her bathroom, collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet and vomiting through her tears.

It took the Doctor a few moments to join her, then he was behind her, holding a warm damp flannel and a cup of cool water. He waited for her retching to cease, then crouched down next to her, handing her the flannel. She wiped her face with it, then handed it back to him as he gave her the cup of water. She rinsed her mouth, spitting the water into the bowl, then took a long drink, while the Doctor rubbed comforting circles on her back.

"I'm sorry," he said shortly thereafter, and Donna turned to him with a look of confusion on her face.

"Sorry for what?" she asked. "If you're apologizing for getting us off that planet, you have nothing to be sorry about."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I just needed you to know. . ."

He looked so pained that Donna couldn't help but reach out to him, placing her hand on his thigh and squeezing gently. "I know," she said. "Don't apologize." She ran her tongue over her teeth then and made a face. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to brush my teeth."

"Of course." The Doctor stood, then returned to her bedroom, debating for a moment if he should stay or go, but he felt they weren't quite done talking, so he sat down on her bed and waited for her to return.

Donna came back a few minutes later, cocking her head in concern at seeing the Doctor's hunched figure. "Oh, Spaceman?" He lifted his head at that and she sat down next to him, gathering him into a tight hug. He returned it gratefully and heard her sigh into his shoulder. "I'm okay, Doctor. Because of you."

He hugged her for a bit before pulling back, shaking his head. "No. Well, I mean, I suppose I did get us out of there, but I was the reason we were there in the first place."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Oi, not this again. Doctor, I knew what I was getting into when I started traveling with you. And you got us out of that situation before anything could happen, so no guilt trips."

"But. . ." he started, and Donna pressed a finger to his lips.

"No," she insisted, then dropped her hand. "So you don't want me to leave."

He shook his head, the action frenzied. "No. Never." He paused. "It's just. . . thinking about what could have happened today. . ." He closed his eyes, overcome with emotion. "I can't bear the thought of something happening to you, Donna." She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued before she could, though he hadn't opened his eyes yet. "And it's not because I feel guilty and would blame myself, though I certainly would."

"Doctor?" Donna's voice was gentle and enough to make him open his eyes.

"I need you, Donna," he said, his voice ragged. "You were right, all that time ago, about needing someone. But it's not just anyone. It's you. I don't know what I would do without you."

Donna could feel the tears rebuilding in her eyes, this time from the sheer emotion of his confession, but she steeled herself and shook her shoulders, sitting up straight. "Right, well, that's not happening, so no need to get all bent out of shape about it."

The Doctor couldn't help but grin at that. "You're a marvel, Donna Noble."

Donna smirked a little herself. "So I've been told, Spaceman." She let out a deep breath. "We all good then?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor insisted, the brightness back on his face, which made Donna smile. "In fact, I'd say we're brilliant."

Donna groaned at his use of what she was sure was his favorite word in the universe – though allons-y and molto bene came close (even if molto bene was more of a phrase than a word) – but gladly accepted the hug he gave her, never happier for the way time had brought them together, not just once, but twice.

"Donna Noble and the Doctor," the Doctor said, as if reading her mind. "Together in the TARDIS."

"Just the way it should be," Donna finished, and her breath hitched when the Doctor tightened his hold on her, as though she might disappear if he didn't.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and Donna felt a shiver run down her spine at that simple act of tenderness. So simple, but so meaningful. He moved his hands to cup her face and lifted her head to look her in the eye, saying just one word, the only one that mattered.

"Forever."

THE END