Part 2- Takeoff
There was a chill in the air, but the sun shone brightly overhead, making the cold slightly more bearable. It was January, the beginning of a brand new year with a new brand of insanity in store, and talk of the Christmas madness was finally beginning to subside. It had been another one of those daft alien hoaxes that Donna Noble had missed out on, and she was grateful for all the fuss to finally fade.
Still, the dreams had gotten worse since Christmas. She never liked the blasted holiday, but lately it had become nearly unbearable. She had decided to chalk it up to the tight budget she found herself under, and clung to that notion like a child clung to a security blanket, no matter what evidence she encountered to the contrary.
The walk wasn't clearing her head like she had hoped it would. When she woke up that morning her head hurt more than it had in a while. She couldn't be sure why, the dreams from last night having slipped away from her consciousness, but her head hurt and she hoped that getting out would help a bit. So far, it hadn't. Instead she had shouted at three people, one of them a sweet old lady, who insisted on getting in her way and being all around irritating. She hadn't meant to snap at them, really she hadn't, but every little thing seemed to grate on her nerves.
Finding a park bench, Donna sat down. All she had to do was just stop and think and breathe in the fresh air. That's right, all she needed was a little bit of fresh air, and perhaps some solitude for good measure. Closing her eyes, Donna sucked in a few slow, even breaths. For the first time in a long time, she finally felt relaxed, sitting on this park bench alone. The wind whipped at her hair, the sun beat down on her neck, and a welcome calm washed over her. It may not have been ideal, but it sure did feel nice. As she began to slip into an almost meditative state, she was snapped out of it by a clanging noise from beside her.
God help the poor soul who had the misfortune of disturbing her.
Donna's eyes flew open and she set her features in her signature Donna Noble Devastating Glare. "Do you mind?" she snapped.
The target of her ire was a boy who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He had strong features and a healthy head of dark hair that flopped forward, falling into his grey-blue eyes. He was dressed rather oddly, the tweed jacket hardly weather-appropriate and the bowtie hardly fashion-appropriate, but he did not appear to be bothered by the cold weather or his daft appearance. The racket he had been making came from some sort of... whatchamajigger that he was fiddling with. The boy looked up at her and pocketed his gizmo.
"Terribly sorry, didn't mean to disturb you."
Donna scoffed. "If you were going to make a racket and didn't want to disturb me, you could have sat down somewhere else, thank you very much!" She could hardly believe the nerve of this kid!
He didn't appear to be bothered by her irritable reaction. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a bag. "Jammy Dodger?" he offered.
No, she bloody well did not want a bloomin' Jammy Dodger! She could have snapped at him with those exact words. They probably would have gotten the point across that she wanted to be left alone and cause him to indeed get up and leave her be. She didn't snap at him, however, and instead heaved a sigh. She was tired of yelling at the world, and perhaps, for once, she would humour this kid and indulge after all.
"Yeah, alright." She took one of the offered sweets. "Thanks. I'm Donna Noble, by the way."
The boy smiled at her. "Nice to meet you, Donna Noble."
"Sorry for getting cross with you."
"No, it's quite alright. I assure you, Donna, that you have absolutely no reason to apologize to me."
She gazed at the boy. He was rather curious and strangely familiar, like a dream you struggled to remember too long after you woke up. She couldn't quite place if she knew him from somewhere or not but the peculiar way he emphasized the word "me" gave her the idea that she somehow did. Before she could question him about it, he spoke up.
"Is something the matter, Donna Noble?"
She searched his face and saw genuine concern. Who was this boy? He had met her not five minutes ago, she had given off a rather rude first impression, and he was concerned for her well being. There was something in his eyes that scared her. They seemed more ancient than a twenty-something-year-old's eyes had any right to be, and there was enough pain and suffering in those eyes to put all her little financial concerns and bad dreams to shame. But there was something else... Something so warm and considerate. Something so passionate and compassionate. Something that made her want to open up.
Donna looked away quickly, fearing that she would drown in them if she stared too long.
There was indeed something the matter. She felt lost, lonely and frightened. Earth was a big, scary planet, and she was just doing her best to find her place in it. But she wanted more. Sometimes she wanted to run, so fast and so far, never stopping, and never looking back. She wanted to pump her legs and tear through the streets. She wanted to run and run and run until her lungs burst and her heart beat its way right out of her chest. Unfortunately, reality liked to rear its ugly head and keep her stationary. Reality kept her chained up inside her tiny little flat in Chiswick. She had so much to run from, but nowhere to run to.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." The boy broke her reverie, sounding just a little bit disappointed. He was giving her a sympathetic look.
"Right," Donna snapped. "I don't have to tell you anything. I don't even know who you are."
He nodded. "Exactly," he agreed softly. "You just looked like you might need to talk to someone. I'm a very good listener."
If only she knew. There was so much about this boy she didn't know. She didn't know how bad a listener he actually was. She didn't know how much guilt he felt for her situation. She didn't know how much it was killing him to see her face again. She didn't know that once, she had been this man's greatest friend. She didn't know that she had done everything in her dreams with the man who sat beside her. She didn't know that just by sitting there, he was breaking every single one of his own rules. She didn't know that one day very soon, he would be going to his death. She didn't know that he was there to say goodbye.
She didn't know any of this. She couldn't know.
"I feel... lost," she said finally. "I'm doing the best I can but it's just not enough."
"I know the feeling."
Donna scoffed. "What the hell do you know? You're, what, twelve?" She sighed. "Sorry. Did it again. I donno. You hear all this talk these days about aliens and strange happenings, and I know it's all barmy, but part of me really wants to believe it. Sometimes me and my Gramps sit up on the hill and gaze at the stars, and sometimes I picture something more. I know he does too."
"That's not barmy at all," the boy assured her. "Picturing the possibilities... That's so human!"
"It's not even that, though. It's not just the stars and the aliens. I want more out of this world. There's so much about this planet, our home, that we don't know and we haven't discovered, and I want to see that before I even think about roaming the stars." Donna sighed. "I took a trip to Egypt once. Not even really sure what compelled me to do so, but I was determined to go and get out and do some proper travelling. But it didn't go the way I planned. Nothing ever really does. Now I'm stuck here. And I'm happy enough, I suppose. But I want to see the world, and get out, and do something more."
"What's stopping you?"
"Money, mostly. And maybe a little bit of fear, I donno." Donna's face darkened. "But I suppose that's all well and good for young dreamers like you. You've got your whole life ahead of you, all the time in the world to travel and see it all. I just can't do that anymore. I've got to support myself and my family."
The boy said nothing. He seemed to be fixated on some point far off in the distance, staring vacantly ahead as if there was something he couldn't quite see. He remained silent, but flashes of thoughts danced behind his eyes, as though what he was searching for in the distance was nothing more than the right words. When he spoke again, Donna wasn't sure whether or not the words he used were indeed the ones he had been trying to find.
"Of course, you're right. Reality likes to catch up with us dreamers once in a while, too, and nothing about it is ever easy"
"No, that's just it," Donna agreed. "Reality is hard. I thought that by now I would have had it all figured out. I was supposed to do something big and be someone important. I suppose I'm doing better now, on the mend a bit, but it doesn't feel like enough. I can't help but feel, sometimes, somehow incomplete. It doesn't happen all the time, but every once in a while... It just hurts. And then sometimes I realize that all my problems don't mean a whole lot, because there are countless others suffering much more than I am. I want to help them, but how can I do that when I can't even help myself?"
Donna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could feel that awful stinging behind her eyes. When she spoke again, she did her best to keep her voice even and soft.
"Funny thing is, I don't think I ever cared this much, I was always a bit selfish. Still am, I suppose, but it comes and goes, and the pain of this world is just unbearable. The worst part is, there's nothing I can do about it. Not realistically. I could give away everything I owned, but it's just not practical. I feel so helpless."
The boy turned his gaze on her, those intense eyes shining as they looked into hers. "Oh Donna Noble..." he muttered, the emotion in his voice matching the intensity of his gaze. "You're not helpless, I promise you. You're... brilliant. I just think you have a hard time accepting it. Things are going to get better, I can almost guarantee it. Never lose that compassion. Just be patient, and someday you're going to be able to make all the difference in the world."
He sounded so sure of himself, and even though Donna knew that he was talking utter rubbish, she couldn't help but believe what he said.
"If only you knew me..." Donna mused. "You would be questioning my well being. Everything I just said... They don't understand how I feel. I don't usually act like this, and my family and friends would wonder just how much I'd had to drink and how early I decided to start if I said any of this to them. I don't know why I told you, I don't even know you."
"Oh, I just have one of those faces. I told you, I am a very good listener, and people like to spill their guts to me." He smiled at her, a charming and brilliant smile, and rested his hand on her face, fingers brushing up against her temple. Under any other circumstances she would have broken his hand off then and there, but all of her interactions with the boy thus far had been so strange that she decided to just go with it. She felt an odd sort of calm in his touch, and gave him a gentle smile in return.
After a moment, the boy removed his hand and leapt up. "Well Donna Noble, it's been brilliant. Excellent to meet you, I promise." He paused and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen in all of her life. It seemed to have its own luminosity, emitting a glow that reached out and warmed her heart. "Goodbye," he said, meaning his farewell for someone so much more than a stranger he had met just a few minutes ago.
He turned on his heel and began to stroll away, but Donna called out "Wait!" and he stopped. "You didn't even tell me your name. Who are you?"
"Just a friend."
Those three words were very simple, dismissive and casual, but she couldn't help but feel that he meant so much more. She felt that he cared deeply for her, and for that boy to call her a friend was far more remarkable than she realized. Before she could say anything on the matter, the boy was gone without a trace.
Donna Noble could say, with all honesty, that this had been the strangest walk she had ever taken in all of her life, and it had nothing to do with her spending most of it sitting on a park bench. That boy had been someone special. She knew from experience that strangers trying to get friendly with her when she wanted to be left alone didn't fare well, but this boy hadn't felt like a stranger. If anyone else had sat on that bench next to her, they would have received an earful of very unpleasant words and then be sent on their way, but that boy hadn't sparked any irritability in her. She felt much better for talking to him, and she couldn't explain why. She had a feeling that she would probably never be able to, and accepted that fact much more readily than she had expected.
