The Wolf in Her Cage: Chapter One
(Takes place right after the episode Turn Left)

"End of the universe? What do you mean by that?"

The Doctor turned to face her. The expression on his face, a bizarre mixture of hope, grief, horror and fear, was a myriad truly impossible to understand. Donna stared at him, watching as he ran trembling fingers through his hair, took a deep breath in through his nose, and turned away from her again without an answer.

"Doctor?" said Donna cautiously, no little fear rising in her voice. "What's going on? What's 'Bad Wolf'?"

"It's her," he muttered, almost to himself. Suddenly, he spun around to face her. "You said that she said 'the darkness is coming', what did she mean by that?"

Taken off guard, Donna stammered.

"I…I don't know…it's…a bit blurry, I can't —,"

"Try, Donna," the Doctor urged, his deep brown eyes wild and strangely comforting. "Try to remember! What did she mean?"

Donna's eyes closed. Images flitted past beneath her eyelids, too quickly for her to comprehend any of them. A dim murmur of voices, none of them decipherable, pounded in her ears. Feelings — fear, panic, determination, confusion — rushed in her blood, making her head swim. She swayed, but felt no real connection to her body; she was an outsider, a watcher as her body started to fall, a spectator as the Doctor rushed forward to hold her steady.

"I don't know," she felt herself murmuring. "There was…there were things that happened, things that you stopped, but you…you died, you weren't able to…and then, and then the woman came. The blond woman. She…I don't know, helped out, or something. She knew things…it was like she travelled with you, once. I think she said she had. Lucky her."

She heard the Doctor's sharp intake of breath, so slight she would have probably missed it except he was still trying to hold her up and was too close to disguise anything. Her eyes opened and she swayed dangerously again. The interior of the TARDIS — glowing so strangely with emergency crimson light — spun in circles around her.

"Who was she, Doctor? She wouldn't tell me her name. I don't remember much, but I remember that. Who was that woman?"

The Doctor stepped away as Donna leaned herself against a pillar. He swallowed harshly, his eyes darker than she could ever remember them appearing since she had first met him.

"We need to-"

But he didn't seem able to finish his sentence. He faced the console, peering intently at the controls. Donna suspected he was only doing that to have something to look at. "We need to return to Earth," he said at last, fingering a lever with one hand and an oddly shaped knob with the other.

"Doctor?"

He didn't turn around. She didn't expect him to. He continued playing with the controls, dancing around the console in an attempt to get the ship in flight. His brows furrowed as he paused, looking suspiciously at the glowing column when it stayed determinedly still. With a frown, he tried again.

"I'm sorry," said Donna softly. She carefully let go of the pillar, gradually feeling the ground beneath her feet come to a hesitant rest.

"Defender of the Earth!" he shouted suddenly, from the other side of the console, turning to her again with a strange fire in his eyes. "That's who she was. Is. Defender of the Earth!"

"Sounds about right," Donna agreed, hiding her confusion. "Sure acted like it."

Expectantly, he pressed down on a lever. Nothing happened. The Doctor sighed, then reached down to a little shelf underneath the console, coming up with what looked like a small mallet. He started beating random bits on the console, Donna watching bemusedly.

"What's wrong with the light?" she asked, looking at the central column with interest. It wasn't green anymore, certainly, and not nearly as comforting. In fact, everything about the TARDIS right now seemed…wrong.

The Doctor started to speak, putting away the mallet in resignation that it wasn't helping, but then suddenly the time rotor began wheezing, a harsher sound than Donna had ever heard it make before. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it sounded like it was sick, or about to be.

"No, no, nononono!" shouted the Doctor, the singular words running together. He went off in a frenzy, hitting controls, running around the room, and Donna felt her knees buckle as the ship jerked.

She gritted her teeth as struggled to keep her balance and grabbed onto a railing to assist. The TARDIS gave another shuddering jerk, almost tearing the railing from her hands and nearly sending the Doctor flying across the room. She gasped as the floor tried to buck her off like an angry bull. "What the bloody hell did you do?"

"I don't know!" the Doctor yelled, clutching at the console, unable to stand straight enough to attempt anything more in the way of regaining control.

When at last the rotor came to a halt and Donna felt it was safe to brave walking across the floor, the door burst open, clean light filtering inside, banishing, temporarily, the crimson wrongness of the TARDIS.

"Martha!" yelped the Doctor, surprised. The other doctor — a real one, Donna mused wryly — looked just as confused as Donna felt.

"What are you doing here?" asked Martha as she made her way up the ramp. She frowned at the central column. "What's wrong with the TARDIS?"

The Doctor straightened.

"I don't know, it's almost like —,"

"It looks like it did when the Master made the paradox machine," Martha interrupted, studying it critically.

"A what?" Donna repeated, lost.

The Doctor grimaced at her. "Long story," he explained. Donna rolled her eyes.

"I'll tel you later," Martha mouthed.

"Martha Jones," said the Doctor, and Martha looked back at him, bemused.

"Milligan, actually," she corrected, and Donna noticed for the first time that there was a golden band on her left hand.

"Are you—" she couldn't finish.

A smile broke out on Martha's dark face, and her eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

"Congratulations!" Donna exclaimed, and suddenly forgot about the direness of everything else. She bounded up to her friend and embraced her tightly. Martha laughed.

"Thank you," she said. "Doctor?"

He was looking away from them, his jaw set. Donna stepped back, exchanging glances with Martha.

"Something wrong?"

"Very wrong," the Doctor said. His voice was hard. "I didn't bring the TARDIS here; she brought herself."

"She?" Donna repeated with a snort. The Doctor didn't even spare her a glance.

"The TARDIS is alive. She was grown, not built. And something is very, very wrong with her," he stroked the console lightly, and the light flickered in response. "Where are we?" he asked Martha.

"Cardiff," Martha replied. "Right on top of the rift. The team's out chasing Weevils in London. Weird, I know, but that's why they aren't here. I only just got here by train."

His expression, or what Donna could see of it, did not change. He did, however, look up at the ceiling and sigh breathily.

"I share a telepathic link with the TARDIS. Sort of. Well, almost sort-of. But it's not there anymore. I can't hear her!" he sounded frustrated.

"Maybe she's sleeping?" Martha suggested lamely.

"Maybe." But his tone said anything but.

The Doctor walked around the console, to the display screen. He fiddled with the controls in front of it, and the monitor flickered tentatively. Tongue between his lips in concentration, he tried again.

"You can fix her, though," said Donna confidently. "Right?" she added, after a few seconds of dead silence.

"Oh yeah," said the Doctor, obviously trying to copy her earlier strength. "No problem. Stabilize the field of hydroelectric atoms in the amygdalic disc in the temporal distortion magnets and it'll be right as rain! Not that I can really imagine anything being literally 'right as rain'; honestly, what is it with you humans? You go on and on about how rain is depressing and gloomy and then come up with something that says the complete opposite!"

Donna wondered if the Doctor was taking advantage of their lack of knowledge of time machines to talk nonsense that sounded good. The slight on humans was easy enough to ignore, though, as he did it all the time. From the disgruntled look she got from Martha, she assumed she felt the same.

"Aha!" he cried triumphantly, and, as if on cue, the screen brightened, filling with symbols and numbers that gave Donna a headache just to look at. Martha seemed curious, though.

"What's it say?"

The smile on the Doctor's face faded, slipping away like oozing slime, and Donna knew that whatever it was, it definitely wasn't a good thing.

"The TARDIS's consciousness is being repressed," he muttered incredulously. "It's like there's nothing left; she's a newborn in an old body!"

"How is that possible?" said Donna.

"I dunno," he frowned, typing something. The screen changed to a view of the area outside the TARDIS. Donna and Martha joined him, peering over his shoulders. "It seems like it's coming from some sort of interference outside the TARDIS," he said.

"Something's interfering with the TARDIS?" Martha repeated dubiously. "How is that possible?"

"It isn't," the Doctor admitted, and there was a pause in which they all exchanged knowing looks. Simultaneously, they all burst into wide, full-blown grins of unadulterated excitement.

"Wait, look!" Donna shouted suddenly, making Martha and the Doctor jump and stare, following her finger.

"What?"

"I don't see anything."

"There," said Donna, jabbing a finger at the screen, her heart pounding. "Right there! Don't you see her?"

"Her? Donna, what are you talking about? There's just a fountain, no one is—"

"No!" Donna insisted, shaking her head. "Right there! It's her, that woman I saw in the parallel universe!"

"Parallel universe?" Martha repeated, wrinkling her nose confusion. "When did you—"

She was interrupted by a hoarse, strangled whisper from the Doctor, who was staring wide-eyed at Donna, like he'd seen a ghost or something.

"It can't be."

"Can't you see her?" said Donna desperately. The Doctor shook his head slowly.

Then, before she could even blink, he was at the doors of the TARDIS, throwing them open. Sunlight gleamed down on Cardiff, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. In fact, for a place so close to the rift and the Hub, it was downright peaceful. People milled about in the distance, but otherwise there was no one anywhere. No one standing at the fountain, certainly.

"See? She's right there!" uttered Donna in a harsh whisper, her and Martha having followed him. The Doctor and Martha looked at her like she was crazy.

"Donna," said Martha, voicing all their thoughts. "There's no one there."

"Yes, there is!" she insisted adamantly, pointing rudely at the blonde wearing a blue leather jacket and black jeans.

"Martha," said the Doctor. He sounded partly fascinated, partly disappointed, and a third confused. "I think Donna might actually be seeing someone,"

"So?"

"So," the Doctor puffed out a breath, looking at Donna. She flinched at the look in his eyes. "I think Donna should go talk to her."

"Talk to who?" Martha asked again, aggravated.

"Maybe she'll tell Donna," he said, with a fleeting smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Anything in particular you want me to tell her?" Donna muttered, still not quite believing neither of them could see that infuriating woman.

"No," said the Doctor immediately, but his voice was curiously a few octaves higher than normal. "No, just…get what you can out of her, I suppose. Just be careful. We don't know if she…well, just be careful, all right?"

Donna gave him a doubtful look, then glanced at Martha, who had her eyebrows lowered in a state of utter perplexity. She almost laughed at the trio that they made.

She looked to Blondie. Whoever she was, she was facing away from them, but whether or not that was deliberate, Donna didn't know. But the clothes, hair and height were distinctive from the few distorted glimpses her memory allowed of her, so she determinedly sucked in a breath and stalked towards her, two gazes burning into her back as she went.

"Who are you, then?"

It hadn't been what she had meant to say first, honestly. The words just popped out of her mouth before her mind gave them any permission.

"I told you," said the woman without turning around, her downtown London accent belying a mind, Donna was sure, could be absolutely devious; "just one wrong word and reality could come crashing down around us. That's why the Doctor can't see me. I've got a modified perception filter and temporal...well, a temporal scrambler, I guess you could call it, so the TARDIS can't recognize me, either."

Donna walked over to her side. Blondie continued to peer into the watery depths before them as if completely unaware of Donna's existence.

Right.

"Your name can't possibly —,"

"Yeah, it can," Blondie interrupted her, and her head turned to look directly at Donna. Her hazel eyes swam with something unidentifiable. "I'm technically not even supposed to be here, not this time. I could tell you my name, but that would be like shoutin' at the universe that I'm here. Trust me, you don't want that to happen. Much better off just knowing my face."

She turned back to the fountain.

"You said…" Donna paused, trying to remember. The details were so muddled it wasn't even funny. "You said I was going to die, and I did, sort of. How could you know that when that universe wasn't even real?"

Part of her wasn't even aware of what she was saying. Most of her wanted to tackle this woman to the ground and wring her neck until she got some straight answers. Briefly, she wondered what she looked like, supposedly talking to herself, and looked over her shoulder to see the Doctor and Martha deep in conversation, somber expressions galore.

The woman didn't answer for a while. She was staring up at the sky now, apparently unfazed by the sun.

"And why are you always wearing the same clothes?"

She laughed a bitter laugh in response, and Donna was taken slightly aback.

"It's been a long day," she said with little sincere mirth.

"Yeah, I'll bet."

"Donna Noble," said the woman, as if feeling out her name. "Do you have any idea how many of you I've met?"

Donna couldn't reply to that for the life of her.

"I've been to maybe a dozen different universes, some with me, all of them with you, a few with Martha, and absolutely none of them with the Doctor, except this one. He doesn't exist anywhere but here. Funny," she laughed, and it truly seemed genuine this time, "I was born in this universe, and now that another universe has gotten used to me, I'm not welcome here anymore."

Something twinged in the back of Donna's mind, a vague, passing memory that she felt was important but flitted away too quickly for her snatch at it.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, and the woman smiled at her. It was a dazzling smile, a bright one that made her seem like the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before either of them spoke again.

"Donna," said the woman, and her voice was set and even, like this was the conversation she'd come here for, "since I am here, and you're here, I might as well take advantage of it. I need you to tell the Doctor something for me. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, o' course," Donna replied in an instant. "Why wouldn't I?"

Blondie flashed that smile again.

"Tell 'im that…" she hesitated, her smile faltering for just a moment. "Tell him that Darlig ulv Stranden is the weakest point for the Void right now. Canary Wharf will break right after that, but I've got that one covered."

She took a small, shuddering breath before letting it out slowly.

"What?" said Donna, half-laughing. "What's that supposed mean, 'the weakest point for the Void'? What is the 'Void'?"

The woman's expression withdrew until Donna found herself incapable of reading any part of it.

"The Void is the darkness," she said, and her tone seemed hollow. "It's nothing — no light or thought or anythin' — some people call it Hell. It's the only thing that keeps all of the universes from blending together like some sort of really awful milkshake. Right now, it's coming. It's eating up the multiverse - all the different universes - one by one, 'cause some idiot ripped a hole in the fabric of its defences."

"Who would do something like that?" gasped Donna, horrified.

The woman shook her head with a tiny smile. "I don't think they did it on purpose, not for that, anyway. I think they were just trying to escape."

"Escape? Escape what? I thought you said the Void was nothing!"

"It is. It's just…there are…things, creatures that got trapped in there, because there wasn't anywhere else for them to go. Things just as bad as the Void itself."

"Like what?"

"Daleks. Cybermen," she waved a dismissive hand. "Other things, too, but those are the main ones."

"And what are they, the stuff of nightmares?" She meant it as somewhat of a joke, but her voice cracked and she looked away so the woman wouldn't see how terrified she really was.

"Yeah," said Blondie seriously. "Yeah, they are. And after we deal with the Void, we'll have to deal with whatever caused all this to start with."

"Any idea what it is?"

The woman shook her head.

"Could be one Dalek, could be all the Cybermen. Could be everything that's ever been trapped there. It's impossible to tell right now, though."

"Is it?"

"The Doctor'll figure it out," said the woman with such confidence it surprised Donna. "He always does."

"Were you and him…"

No reply.

Donna shook herself from the flashback.

"But you need to tell him," Blondie continued. "The barriers are weakest at Darlig ulv Stranden — that's in Norway, by the way — and as soon as the Void breaks through there, it'll come out at Canary Wharf, too. Tell him — tell him Bad Wolf will help out when the time is right."

Her head snapped to the side suddenly, like she was listening for something.

"I have to go now, Donna. Promise me you'll never leave him?"

Confused, Donna nodded. What else could she do?

"When will I see you again? Will I ever? What about the Doctor? Will you ever see him?"

So many questions, not nearly enough time. Ironic, that.

"Heads up in about four days, Donna Noble," said the woman, as Donna had glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor as she spoke of him. When she looked back, no one was there. XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright,
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark,
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage,
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

Rose hit her head against the wall. Repeatedly, but softly, so she wouldn't actually bash her brains in, as she felt like doing. Guilt and pain lanced through her every nerve, and she felt like screaming. She was completely alone, though, so she supposed she could scream if she really wanted to. But it wouldn't do any good. It didn't before.

Silent tears trickled down her cheeks, and she hated herself for it. Hadn't she cried enough already? She didn't deserve to do it anymore — didn't even have the right — so why was she standing here with smudged makeup and wet paths of the choking agony of continued loss on her face?

Bloody hell, the multiverse was ending and all she could think about was how unfair it was that she still couldn't see him. Pathetic. That was all she ever was. Pathetic.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

She banged her head harder, hating the voices in her head; the singing,
iincessant singing that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. As far as she could tell, it didn't mean anything. It was just reference. Reference to four completely different people all in one thing together.

Her headache intensified.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

Everything was as they'd left it. White walls, with maybe a layer of dust that hadn't been there before. Two levers on each side. Super-strength magnaclamps stuck next to them — not close enough, she thought bitterly. Computers behind her, unused for the last few years. It seemed to her like no one had been here at all, since…then.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

She stopped the banging, since it obviously wasn't helping.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

Nope. Definitely not helping.

She groaned out loud.

Not for the first time, she wished Donna were with her. Donna kept the damn singing away, brought some relief, some sense of quiet that she never had anywhere else.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

Any minute now, she thought. Any minute and the Void would rip apart the wall she was staring at. Any minute and she would have to release Bad Wolf. With any luck, the Doctor was in Norway doing his part.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

Rose gritted her teeth and told herself she could endure it.

In every other universe, there had been no defense. Oh, she had tried—God knows she had tried so hard—but the Void had always consumed them in the end. Then again, none of them had ever had the Doctor. Just her and Donna in most cases, and occasionally Martha and Jack. Sometimes she even got to work with herself.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

She fought the urge to tear out her hair in frustration. Never went away, this singing. Ever since she had discovered the messily sealed breach at Torchwood.

It felt like a forever ago.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

The singing was getting louder, she realized. More constant, less distant. It was almost time.

Any second now.

Maybe she would get to talk with the Doctor after this. After this, the defenses around this universe would be stronger than any of the others anywhere, so she figured it would probably be able to stand it. The jumper ought to be ready by then.

And if it didn't work…what the hell would she do?

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.
Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.
Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage
Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

Rose, acting on impulsive anger, pounded her fists on the wall as hard as she could. Then she actually punched it, not feeling a damn thing as blood poured from her bared knuckles.

It was relief, in a really morbid, sort of twisted way, though she had never been one for self-mutilation.

Stars, stars, shine Red so bright
O' sons of heaven filled with Light.

Donna Noble. The most important woman in the whole of creation; redheaded, hot-tempered, innocent and full of wonder and life and self-deprecation.

Moon, Miss moon, so lonely in the Dark
Though dawn will come, she leaves her mark.

Martha Jones — no, she saw with a smile as Bad Wolf prowled restlessly within her mind — Milligan. Martha Milligan. Good for her. She means more than she realizes, too, Rose thought.

Storm, wild Storm, lovely in his Rage,

Doctor. Her Doctor. She'd promised to keep him safe, so long ago, and so she had vowed for forever that she would. He'd never be alone, never be without the love of life and humanity she'd seen in him so long ago now. Never.

Ruthless is his tamer, the Wolf in her Cage.

And her world exploded into silvery flame.