Myths. That's all everything was, myths.

They were like the stories her Gramps talked about – God bless her Gramps- of all the aliens and whatnot that he believed in, whilst he climbed his hill, near enough every night, and gazed up at the stars, waiting for them to tell him an amazing story through his beloved telescope as he sat on that old stool and blanket, thermos in hand.

But Donna Noble was still waiting for her story to begin. Or, so she told herself.
Well, what a load of rubbish! Story? Yeah right, she was nothing, and anyone who said otherwise was just choking on their own crap!
Her father and grandfather always had such faith in her, and she loved them for it. But sometimes she felt...like she was destined for something more. For something beyond this typical nine to five lifestyle. Not that she had a job, anyway. Not that she didn't want one - oh, she certainly did. Her family didn't nag, now that her mother was gone. It had been a difficult few years...But they were starting to get past it, now. Her father had returned to working, he'd carried on, like all good British should. Moving on, as Donna still tried to find somewhere that didn't involve just being 'a Temp'. Sylvia had constantly nagged her about finding a proper job, and it was seriously harder than it sounded. Everywhere just wanted to hire someone for a quick six months here, and a few weeks there. Which could be great, yeah, Donna used to love it, but now, the Ginger wanted somewhere more permanent. Damn the flipping economic crisis! Sure, she had a CV with a mile-long list of different jobs with experiences, and a scratch-few borderline grades that could just about get her into some places, but it was never enough.

Nah, even if no-one was there to constantly drum it into her head anymore, she knew what 'good enough' was, and she wasn't even capable of that. She couldn't even blame the credit crunch for that, not really. She wasn't self-pitying herself with a big 'woe is me', Donna just knew what was fact. Or what she thought was.

Facts could be myths. Like the stories of that tall, lanky man, with messy brown hair and a blonde accomplice from all those years ago. The one that had stood up to those Cybermen thingies, and destroyed them. They were never seen again. Vanished into thin air, or something like that. Who was to say that they were nothing more than a nice story made out of a horrific disaster? No-one knew any better. So Donna was forced to believe that was all they were. Myths, wishful stories. The only thing that Donna could think of, when she thought of that day, was how her mother had been taken from them. That was real.

Then there was that time the stars started going out! Really, even a few months ago, even. She'd been watching the stars with her grandfather as usual, and then...Suddenly...It changed. The positions of the constellations and everything. Suddenly they were nowhere. Blank spots in the sky. They wanted to report it, they wanted to do something... But even her Gramps, even Wilfred Mott, as the expert he was, was at a loss. He didn't know what any of it meant. So what could it have been? God knows.

Though...Somehow, they'd been saved. Words had reached her ear about some secret organisation at Canary Wharf - called 'Flamewood', or something. She'd looked for it, but of course, it didn't exactly have a website. She couldn't simply put 'alien-fighting organisation' into bloody Google, now, could she? She wanted to believe her Gramps, but...Sometimes Donna couldn't believe things, even if she wanted to. She needed the hard evidence. The proper stuff.

She needed to see it first. All of it.

"What do you fancy for tea? Take out – Bit of a treat, yeah?" The only granddaughter asked her Gramps. She tried, she really did, to make sure that they had good, varied meals. Hell, she'd even managed to get past cooking pasta and use rice with some things. Luckily, it wasn't always down to her to cook tea, and tonight, it was getting late since Wilf had already been up on the hill. It was too late to start making any fuss about cooking.
"Yeah, that should do the trick, sweetheart." The older man offered her a kind smile.

Ding Dong.

"Oh, who's at the door now?! Get that will you, Gramps? I hope it's not one of those bloomin' Avon collectors. I've told her, I said, I'm not buying anymore!" Donna called from the kitchen as she rooted through the drawers to find their stash of leaflets for the various Chiswick takeaways.

More frantic knocking came from the door, and an instant of a second later, it was followed by a second and a third ring of the bell.
"Scratch that, I'll get it." She patted Wilfred on the back and pushed a few leaflets into his hands as she brushed past him to get to the door, as he made his way into the living room. "Make yourself useful and decide if we're having Chinese or what. It's probably just those kids from down the street, /again/..." She rolled her eyes and opened the door, expecting no one, and a laugh echoing from down the street.

However, the one thing she didn't expect was a blonde woman with tear tracks on her face, wearing a black militaristic suit and a desperate expression. "Who... What?"

Without any warning, and with just a look of slight shock on the girl's face, she barged her way inside their cosy little home, pushing past Donna and slamming the door closed behind her. "Who the flipping hell are you?!" Green eyes widened as the woman produced a large, impressive looking gun, and an audible gasp left the Ginger's lips.
"Gramps, stay in there!" She called out a warning, but it was already too late, for her Grandfather had already wandered into the hallway, eyes widening, but not at the massive out-of-space, sci-fi looking gun, but in recognition. His arm shot out, shaking finger pointing at her.
"Oh, I know you!" he said excitedly, and the girl's brow furrowed. "You're the Vitex girl! Peter Tyler's long lost daughter! Hey, Donna, she was in the papers a few years ago, remember? And then the tabloids…"
At the mention of this, Peter Tyler's apparent daughter groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, almost as if she was used to, and tired of getting the same response. Did she have a flipping habit of forcing her way into people's homes and being recognised?! Mass psycho who had too much of Daddy's money and wanted to make an indecent name for herself?!

"No… No, I'm not," she said flatly. "I get that all the time," she added dismissively. Wilfred looked like he wanted to argue, but she raised the gun again, and he quieted.

She turned back to Donna, who was staring at her with both shock and near anger on her features. "You have to come with me. Now," she said firmly, pointing the weapon at the redhead.
"What? I ain't going anywhere, sunshine. I don't care if you have that big, kickass, flaming gun. You don't just come into my home and demand that I come with you." The former temp took a step forwards, surging with a confidence that had come from nowhere. "If you're not long-lost Tyler, then who the Hell are you meant to be?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said, her words slowing down and a kinder look filling her tear-stained eyes, in an almost defeated look. "You will come with me. There's a man…And he's saved the world so many times…and he's saved me…and now he needs to be saved, and nothing I can do will help him. But you, Donna, you can save him. And you will," she said, pointing the gun straight at her head. "I will kill you if I have to, but I don't want to. Don't make me. Just get in the car, and don't say a word. Make this easy," she said, her voice almost pleading now. "Please."

"Now wait just a minute, young lady," Wilfred began, his hand going to a drawer that held a small pistol, but when the blonde turned her eyes to him, he withered. She gave him a look of such pain, such sadness, that his words died on his lips and he felt his own eyes burn. "Donna," he said shakily, "go with Miss Tyler," he said quietly. Rose flashed him a small smile, thankful that he wouldn't make things harder than they were.

It felt like she'd been betrayed. At one moment, she thought she was going to be saved by her Gramps, but no, he told her to go with her. Just go?! How could they trust her? They knew nothing about her.
But, with that look in his eyes, that small, reassuring look of kindness, she knew that she could trust him, and that she'd be safe.

"You look after her, alright?" Wilfred pointed his finger at the woman. She gave a solemn nod as Donna said "I'll call you". She didn't even know if she'd be allowed to call him.
Allowed?! That was like she was having her rights taken away.

Once they were outside, a black 4x4 was instantly noticeable, purring in the night as it sat, still running.
"Get in," Donna was ordered, being thrust toward the passenger door by the woman who seemed to be struggling to keep herself together. Instantly climbing into the vehicle and strapping on her seatbelt, she watched as the other woman got in on the driver's side, flipped open her phone and urgently dialled. "I've got Donna Noble. Take John's blood, whatever you can, and filter out the…special…elements. Donna will donate her blood, and you're going to find a way to combine her blood and those elements of his. Get to work. We'll be there in twenty," she said, hanging up and speeding off, ignoring Donna's glare that burned into her face.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," she said quietly, almost nervously, with her eyes trained on the road. "I'm Rose, by the way, Rose Tyler."

For a woman who read all the gossip magazines, Donna didn't really need the confirmation, even if, only minutes before, the woman had been denying her relation to the famous Vitex founder. This woman had been tracked and followed for months after she appeared in the light of the headlines a few years back; Peter and Jackie Tyler's long-lost daughter comes home. No-one had even known that they'd had a daughter. Everyone believed that they'd just had a dog, until she rose to the spotlight. But there was no doubt that she was their daughter.
Now, that fame was all in the past, and she occasionally appeared in pictures of lavish functions, or being complimented on her attire. Or, oooh, who was she spending so much time with? She was a minor celebrity that the press loved to hear about. Though, she almost seemed to hate the attention. Luckily, in her favour, there wasn't too much of it.

Blimey!

The city was speeding past her window at quite the rate. Buildings and lights all becoming a blur as they hit the motorway. Donna didn't dare look at the speedometer of the vehic—
80..90…100!

Just as long as Rose kept her eyes on the road, it would all be okay, she mentally repeated to herself in a mantra.

But that was just one of the minor worries. Her head was spinning, and not just from the force of the speeding car. She felt as if she was already losing her free will, because apparently she was meant to donate her blood to some bloke called "John," because...why? Who was "John"? Not that she had anything against a poor bloke being saved or whatever…But why couldn't he take normal blood? She wasn't special, and she certainly wasn't a Martian or some other type of alien. She was human, London-born and bred. Hell, she didn't even know what blood type she was, but for some reason, this...what was it, a company, corporation? They seemed to think that she held a certain type of blood that would save this certain man. She had no idea why. She'd never met this man. Sure, she'd met people named "John", but never had a relationship of any sorts towards a John. And now she was being forced to 'donate' blood to him? That was just rich.

And as she glared at Rose, taking in the flat expression, the face that was long-since stained with tears, Donna began to understand. She didn't dare diminish her resolve, or the fiery, green-eyed gaze in Rose's direction, but she understood.

This man, the one she now assumed was gravely injured...somehow, he meant something to her. They were more than coworkers.

She checked Rose's fingers, and found nothing. So they weren't married, or engaged.

But somehow...She could tell how desperate she was, and how much she loved him. By finding Donna, by forcing her to come all this way, almost a prisoner, that was proof enough that she'd be willing to do anything to save his life. That was something special.

She relaxed her expression, knowing now that of course Rose wouldn't hurt her. And because of that, she would go willingly. She would do anything that was required of her, even if it didn't make any sense to her, privately.

Rose had mentioned that she had questions, and blimey, did she have a few. She took a deep breath. "Who is he?" she asked quietly, her eyes darting to the blonde's closed-off face. "Why do you need my blood?"
There was a bit of a pause that left Donna to contemplate all the various situations, as the ginger turned her face to the dark, almost black, sky and figured that they must be heading into the heart of the city, and privately wondered where exactly they were going, and if she was allowed to know. Or if it was all secret, and they'd take some blood samples from her, wipe her memories, and leave her on the side of the road. Or maybe they'd take her back home without any explanation. Either way, she didn't like the sound of either.

Or maybe...just maybe...they'd let her stick around until they were sure her blood did the trick, and this man, John whatever-his-face-is, was healed, and then maybe he and Rose would be feeling good enough to tell her exactly why her blood was so special and why they'd needed her. She damn well deserved a decent explanation! And a nice cuppa wouldn't go amiss, too.

Finally, breaking the silence and the tension between them, Rose began to give an answer.
"He's…John. My John. He's something…unique. Irreplaceable," she said quietly, her voice shaking though she tried to keep it steady. The poor woman was obviously terrified. Donna herself gave a nod, urging for her to go on. It seemed to take a minute or two more for Rose to give an answer to her second question. "We need you because you are also…unique. You don't realize this, I can see it in your eyes, but you're brilliant."

What a load of rubbish!
"Ha." A mocking, sarcastic sound left Donna's lips. "Don't. What have I ever done, for anything? I'm useless. Look me up, I'm no-one. Sure, I may have won the pub quizzes a few times, but that's just luck, and because Tracy flippin' Williams couldn't put a team together if her life depended on it!"

A silence grew between the pair again.

Suddenly, a sharp turn was taken; slinging the van roughly as a door opened in a wall with no warning, and they drove through it.
Bloody hell. She really was going to some sort of secret MI5 base.

"We're here," was announced over the sudden braking of the car, with Rose's knuckles almost turning white at how hard she was still gripping the steering wheel; seeming lost in her own thoughts.
"Rose…" Donna soothingly whispered as she undid her own seatbelt. The blonde's eyes instantly flashed up, and with determination she hopped out of the van, ran to the opposite side, grabbed Donna and pulled her by the hand through the twisting and winding corridors, never stopping. Running. Never giving Donna a chance to look in awe of the place that she was in, as the redhead's feet pounded against the ground as she was pulled along in tow. For God's sake, she was inside what she presumed to be was Canary Wharf! /Torchwood/, even, as she managed to catch a glimpse of one of the signs! Never mind that, though. They had a mission - A life to save.

It was only when they reached a bright white room named 'The Infirmary' did they seem to slow down and stop. A crowd of scientists and people in lab coats buzzed around them, and Donna tried to get her breath back as they all looked at her. Peter Tyler had appeared, yelling about his daughter being reckless and blowing both of their covers and dabbling in other peoples' lives, but Rose seemed to pay him no attention. Donna understood this completely. Time was everything, so she trained her eyes on Rose's and nodded.
"Don't be scared. They're not gonna hurt you, I swear. Only a little blood, yeah? Just think of it as a donation. And it is…so important…you can save him," she said, beginning to ramble with her eyes finding a fresh supply of tears.

The last thing Donna heard as she was being sent off to some room, by a doctor who'd introduced himself as Owen Harper, was Pete tell his daughter that John wasn't doing very well.

"Now, it won't hurt a bit." Dr Harper gave her a warming grin, the first one that she'd seen in ages, as she lay down on the bed and he gently dabbed her arm with a cotton bud. "Sorry about the fuss, by the way." God, he seemed like the first normal person that she'd met that night, and he was the one taking the blood out of her. "Typical of Rose, being dramatic and going against all the regulations. But, she's been through worse. You should have seen her with the cannon."
"The what?" Donna asked, before shaking her head. "Never mind. Doesn't matter." She wouldn't understand. "But really, it's okay. It's some devotion, actually. He must be something if she'd go through such trouble. I just hope that it actually is my blood that you need. All I know is that it's O, and even that's a guess."
"Nah, it's more complicated than that." Owen stated as a needle pricked through her skin and her crimson blood began to flow through a tube, all the way up to a small container. "God, Rose knows the story better than I can explain it. She was there. Basically, long story short, it's about the genetic make-up, the genes in your blood; the DNA. We extract them, give them a good old mix with some of his, and hope for the best." He paused for a moment. "Well, it's a bit more scientific than that, but it's the easier way of saying it."
"Better to go with that. I just about understood what you were saying." Donna reassured him with a smile and a small laugh.

It was only a few more minutes until a bit of blood had been taken from her. Not too much at all. From what she saw, and tried to understand, they'd managed to filter out the 'Doctor' parts (whatever they were – but she didn't ask yet) in order to combine them again with the 'Donna' parts. She understood the basics of what they were saying. Just enough. Then, they began to clone the mixture of the new blood, so that they would have enough to fill up "John".

It was announced that the 'process' had begun, as wires seemed to thread into the man and crimson fluid flowed into him, and Rose Tyler sat down next to Donna Noble, who was sipping the orange juice that she'd been given and being ordered food to help replenish her; constantly being thanked for her troubles.

"He's going to be okay." Rose told her, like she knew John - the man that she'd never even met. Though, the reassurance seemed more for herself than for anyone else. Donna couldn't even see what the poor bloke looked like.

And soon, it grew silent once again as all they could do was wait, and listen to the heart rate monitor in hope. From what they were saying around her, it was up to him to do the rest of the fighting.

She wanted to say something - what had they meant about certain aspects of her blood, and his, being filtered? If they'd gone to all the trouble to get her blood, why had they needed to filter it? And...bloody hell, in the first place, why did they even need her blood? She'd started to think that maybe he was some alien, some green-faced alien that a human had happened to fall in love with. It sounded like something her Gramps would tell her. Of course, none of that explained why they needed her blood...but she had a feeling that Rose would tell her, eventually. Not now, but maybe when John was feeling better. There was always that to hope for. And for Rose, for the love that she knew those two had...she would cross her fingers and certainly hope for the best.

Maybe she'd even be invited to the wedding! Oh, Donna Noble loved weddings!

An unrealistic thought, perhaps. But it helped her force herself to know that he would heal... She didn't know him, of course. But somehow, it was like she had a kinship with him, that she'd always known him, but had never met him in her life. It was a stupid thought, really. She'd only just caught a glance of him, and he was unconscious. She was being daft, but still. Maybe he really was her long-lost brother or something, that her mother and father and grandfather had never told her about. That was something. And maybe that would explain why they needed her blood...maybe... To ensure the best results, perhaps? It was just a thought.

"BeepBeep... BeepBeep… BeepBeep… "

It was a soft, reassuring sound that began to fill the air. She could practically feel the tension in the air starting to evaporate.

"There's so much you should know," Rose said quietly to Donna, never turning away from John, as they found themselves sitting closer to the healing man, on seats provided by the team. She didn't know if it was her place to be sat there, but, they'd reassured her that it was perfectly fine. And well, since she'd given him her blood, she did bloody well deserve it!
"So much," she repeated quietly. "And maybe someday, you'll know. I wonder," she said, pausing for a moment to smooth John's hair away from his forehead, again. "I wonder, do you dream of him sometimes? Weird dreams that you can't understand at all? And when you wake, you can't really remember them clearly, nothing very specific, but you're left with a feeling…and you feel out of breath, like you've been running?" she mused quietly. "I bet you do, even if you don't know it. And that's him. That's them…both of them. And now he's here, in this world. I'll do anything, anything to keep him here. Alive. Even take you at gunpoint," she said, her tone trembling. "I wish there'd been time for us to meet properly. To talk to you, explain things. But there wasn't."

As Rose spoke, Donna couldn't help but scoot forwards in her seat a little and catch a bit of a glimpse of him. He looked familiar, as she found herself studying him. Not someone that she knew, but not a stranger, either. She felt a sort of warmness towards this man in the bed with messy brown hair, and a face that looked like it could hold the biggest grin ever.
Well, that was stupid, but she could just feel it. He seemed…Nice. Not nice, but friendly. A mate.
Maybe Rose was right. She couldn't remember any dreams like that, but she didn't feel totally indifferent towards John. Some part of her, which was getting really daft, wanted to get to know him.

"I never told him how important he was. How he held me to this earth like gravity, and how I would've long since spun out of control if he'd not been here for me to hold on to. And if he dies now, he might never know. I'll never forgive myself." Rose continued.

"It's alright." Donna found herself forgiving Rose's hasty actions. It was strange, but she felt like she could trust them, and she could hardly begrudge someone a chance to live.
"Maybe…Maybe when this is over, we could grab a coffee or something a bit…Normal?" The redhead suggested with a bit of a smile.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." Rose briefly turned to flash a small smile at Donna, before she turned back to focus on John, with her hand slipping into his, in what looked like one heck of a tight grip, as more silent tears spilled down the blonde's cheeks.

Then, Donna allowed Rose's words to sink in. And she remembered...as Rose spoke of 'this earth' like it was optional...she remembered the stories. Just flashes of memories, of the stories her Gramps had told her, but never once believed...

The stories of the tall, thin man with messy brown hair, and his blonde-haired assistant. Them, along with Pete Tyler...Somehow, they'd saved the world...and were never heard from again. Some people even believed them to be alien, though Donna of course never believed it. "It was you two," she asked quietly, "Wasn't it? That stopped the Cybermen all those years ago. Never believed it, really. But still...they had to come from somewhere. The brilliant, tall man and the blonde girl. Saved the world, you did…"
That earned her a half-laugh from Rose. "I really didn't do much of anything. Ran a lot," she said, never moving her eyes from John. "He really did all the work. But…it's complicated. He's…" but her words faded, and Donna didn't prod any further.
God, she needed to start a list with the amount of questions that she'd been postponing!

Both of the women's heads perked up as they noticed something. The beeps were starting to rise. They were becoming stronger. Rose leaned in, resting her forehead against his as she encouraged and whispered to him. "That's it…come on…" and Donna found herself inching closer as her curiosity got the better of her.
"Come on, listen to me. Please…Hear me…Open your eyes. Just open your eyes. Open your eyes, John. Please…please…" She urged him, and encouraged and begged for him. It was obvious that she would wait forever, for him. And that forever still didn't show how long she would.

"Thank you, Donna," she said quietly after a few moments. "Thank you for coming with me. If you hadn't…if he lives, it will be because of you," she said firmly. She closed her eyes, seemingly battling with her own exhaustion. "The gun wasn't even armed, you know," she added. "I wouldn't have shot you. I would've brought you here against your will, but I wouldn't have killed you," she said.

The door opening behind them silenced her, but neither of them turned to see who had entered.

"Oh my god," came the recognisable voice of Jackie Tyler. Even if Donna hadn't personally met her, she could still recognise that voice from the Tyler household. The older blonde was there in an instant, arm around Rose as if she was steeling her against the world, as the daughter took a moment to lean into her mother's shoulder.
Pete crossed the room to join them and stand on the other side of Rose, and Jackie turned to Donna, throwing her arms around the other woman with no warning at all, greeting her as if she were an old friend.
"Thank you! Oh, bless you." She was just a bubble of pure gratitude as Donna found herself hugging the other woman back. She seemed so much nicer than she had been presented on the telly.
A bit stuck-up, really. But no, this close, Jackie Tyler seemed like an almost down to Earth kind of woman. Headstrong.
The media was always misrepresenting people.

Suddenly, interrupting Donna's little chat with Jackie, a small whisper of "Rose" was heard coming from the bed. "I'm here, John," Rose instantly rushed to tell him. "I'm here. I've got you. You're going to be okay," she said, not hiding the happiness in her voice as yet more tears spilled down her cheeks.
"My Rose," the man murmured again, this time, his face splitting into a smile as big brown eyes slowly opened to look up at her. "You saved me."
Various physicians surrounded them and began to ask them millions of questions, as Rose and John exchanged the biggest beams of smiles possible. Blimey, that was some love.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Noble?" Asked Dr. Harper, who seemed to have little patience with the chemistry that was developing between the couple.
He paused for a moment as he glanced around the room. Taking in everyone's faces, and giving Donna one of the greatest smiles she'd ever been given in her life. It filled her with such warmth, as she found herself raising an eyebrow at the curious surname of 'Noble'.

"I feel fantastic."