Title: Scratches

Author: se7ensecrets

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Donna Noble/Rose Tyler

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mild descriptions of self-harm.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately these characters are not mine. =( Owned by the BBC.

Summary: Takes place during "Turn Left", after Donna is confronted with the Time Beetle on her back. Rose finds Donna in a catatonic state.

"Donna?" Rose called out quietly, seeking her out as she walked into the small room UNIT had provided for the redhead for the time being. She ventured over to the bathroom door that was closed and pressed one of her ears to it lightly, listening for anything that could be urgent, but there was only silence.

She tapped on the door lightly before asking, "Donna, are you alright?" but was rewarded with nothing in response.

Starting to worry but feigning, Rose crossed her arms and with a firm voice stated, "Donna, if you don't respond I'm going to be forced to come in uninvited."

Rose stared at the closed door intently for a moment, hoping she'd hear something. Anything.

Time's up. She wiggled the door handle and was relieved to find it unlocked. She quickly swung the door open, anxiety about what she'd find on the other side eating at her. What she was confronted with, though, she had not entirely been expecting.

Rose gasped at the sight of Donna sitting on the closed toilet seat lid, shirtless and shaking with dozens upon dozens of scratch marks streaking down her naked back. Some of them were bleeding, others weren't quite as severe. She had her hands resting on her knees, blood underneath her fingernails, just staring at them.

After Rose's brain fully processed the image in front of her, she crossed over and crouched down beside Donna, placing a hand on her thigh and lightly squeezing. She wasn't sure what to say to her. Asking her if she was alright seemed stupid, because it was clear that she wasn't. What she really wanted to do was get her cleaned up and attend to those nasty scratches on her back, but she needed to get her moving first. She seemed like she was in a daze. Possibly shocked by her own actions and everything that had gone on today with the Time Beetle.

"Donna, sweetheart, can you hear me?" Rose asked gently, her voice trembling, as she stared up into Donna's tear stained face and reddened eyes. Her mouth was moving slightly, but nothing was coming out. She was becoming increasingly worried that Donna wasn't speaking, so she instinctively took her face into both her hands, forcing Donna to turn and look at her. "Donna, please!" she cried softly, pleading.

Suddenly, she heard a strangled "I'm sorry" escape Donna's dry mouth. Rose sighed in relief and pressed her forehead against Donna's as she stroked one of her hands through her messy tangle of red hair, taking extra precaution not to graze the inflamed scratches that plagued even the tops of her lightly freckled shoulders.

Pulling back some, Rose looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "Sorry for what? There's nothing to be sorry for."

Donna swallowed before admitting quietly and with little to no emotion, "For not being who you need me to be."

Rose could nearly feel her heart physically break at those words. She could feel her face start to screw up as the urge to cry became stronger, but she didn't want to completely break down in front of Donna, who needed her desperately right now. But she couldn't help chiding herself, thinking that this was all her fault. This shouldn't have happened; she never should have made her look at the Beetle. Because of her, Donna was in anguish. At the very least, she should have known better than to leave her alone for any amount of time. She should have stayed with her. It was her job to protect her. Yes, it was also her job to see that Donna fulfills her destiny, but keeping her safe goes along with it, and Rose felt that she had failed at that on every level.

Rose's mouth had run dry, and words were becoming harder to put into order. Her eyes flickered to Donna's injured shoulder and tentatively brushed her lips across the scratches there, trailing them repeatedly.

Donna winced slightly at the feel of the blonde's lips. It stung, but felt good at the same time. Almost healing, in a way.

Rose stopped her movements, and whispered, "No. I'm sorry."