AN:

This is a little thing I thought of while watching Doctor Who clips on YouTube. Okay, so they emphasise and emphasise the fact that ALL of the Doctor's family died on Gallifrey, which I'm cool with. But I just wanted to give a brief glimpse of the Doctor flouting the rules, just once, to see Susan again. I hope you like. I do not own Doctor Who.

After The Doctor's Daughter. Donna and the Doctor have dropped Martha off at home, but have not yet come to The Unicorn and the Wasp. After losing Jenny, the Doctor makes a trip.

'So, where we off to now, space man? Somewhere relaxing? Please, say somewhere relaxing. My feet are killing me! And I think we both need a break from the whole 'saving the universe' thing. Yeah?'

The Doctor looked up at Donna, doing her best to be bright and airy, to lift his mood, and he smiled.

'Yeah. First, I just want to make a stop. You don't mind, do you?'

'No,' she said, pity etched on every line of her face. He'd have winced at it, if at that moment he really cared that she felt sorry for him. He'd told her that he'd been a father. She was never going to look at him the same again.

They materialised in the 22nd century. London. It wasn't that different from the London that Donna knew. The Doctor knew where they were. He'd had the co-ordinates for years, but he'd never dared to use them more than once. Only once before. Just down the street. She'd be just down the street.

'This way, Donna.' He told her, and she followed, ever eager for a new experience. They were heading down the pavement, and his eyes scanned back and forth, back and forth, waiting for her to appear and hoping he didn't run into her head-on. That would be difficult to explain. She would know him. Whatever his face, she would always know him.

Then, all of a sudden, there she was, heading towards him, head bowed against the wind he hadn't noticed before. He grabbed Donna's arm and pulled her into a side street:

'Oi! Watch it!' she exclaimed. When he didn't respond, didn't retort, she knew something was wrong. 'What is it, Doctor? You didn't bring me here to hang out in an alley. What's going on?'

She was almost level with the entrance to their lane.

Then, all of a sudden, there she was. Without a turn of her head, without any sort of movement to acknowledge them, she was there and then gone. Madness, temporary madness, gripped him. He wanted to run at her. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders. He wanted to tell her to stay on Earth, to stay with David and to not get involved. He wanted to tell her, this woman who to him was still a girl, to live.

But she was too much like him. Like Jenny, she would sacrifice herself for a cause she believed in. Like Jenny, she would die so that others could live. Why did she have to be like him? Why couldn't she be a coward? Why couldn't she just stay where she was? Where he'd left her, and live? Tomorrow, she would leave for Gallifrey. Tomorrow, she would walk down a road from which she could never turn back. Tomorrow, effectively, she would sign her own death sentence. And she'd destroy him all over again.

She was gone and every thought he'd had had lasted just a few seconds. She'd turned a corner and disappeared. He knew the route she'd take, he'd followed her that other time. The TARDIS was parked opposite wherever she was going. He'd never know she was here.

'Come on, Donna. Let's go.'

Donna being Donna, she wouldn't take that for an answer.

'Doctor, what is going on? What were we standing here for? What have we come here for?'

'I – I wanted to see someone.' He muttered, digging his hands in his pockets.

'Who?' she asked, throwing her hands out.

'A girl – a woman – she couldn't see me. It'd create all sorts of problems. But, I needed to see her. Today.'

'Why?' she questioned, softer this time.

'Because – because tomorrow she leaves. Tomorrow, she goes somewhere where I can't protect her. And…eventually - she dies.'

'Oh.' Donna stared down the street, as if she could summon this phantom woman back with just her eyes. 'Who was she?'

At that moment, he didn't know whether he could. He'd never told another companion about Susan. But Donna knew he'd been a father. Half of what he would be saying was already out there. What did it matter if he said just a little bit more?

'She was Susan.' He coughed, and, before he could change his mind: 'She was my granddaughter.'

Donna's gasp was loud.

'I knew you had kids but -'

'I'm over nine hundred years old, Donna. Is it really that much of a surprise?'

'No – no I don't suppose it is.' A silence stretched on. 'Do you miss her?'

'Every day. Her, my children. My wife. All the time.'

The revelation of a wife almost knocked Donna off her feet, but she didn't question him. Now was not the time.

'I'm sorry, Doctor.'

He inhaled, he closed his eyes a few times. He was locking away that part of himself. He was trying to forget.

'I know.' With one more deep breath, he smiled. 'Shall we?' He held out his arm. 'We've got a lot to see Earth girl.'

For a moment she was sad. He'd shared parts of his life she didn't think he'd ever shared and now it was like it had never happened. She doubted they'd ever speak of it again. But, if ignorance was bliss, she'd let him have it. He'd had enough sadness in his life. He'd even had enough sadness for today.

'Okay. Where to, space man?'

Later, when they'd visited outer space and different times, and Donna had collapsed from exhaustion, he sat in the control room, staring up at the screen connected to the exterior. In a way, he'd fulfilled his promise to Susan. In a way. And that was all he could ever do. She was gone. Gone for good. He was the only one left.

One day, I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine. Goodbye Susan. Goodbye my dear.

Goodbye.

AN:

Well what did you think? Angsty I know! Please tell me x