I am currently re-writing some chapters. Only little things, since I found some things that didn't quite work. Eg. This story takes place after The Poison Sky, yet I wrote that Donna did not know the Doctor worked for UNIT. These are all to be corrected :D

It was early morning when Donna awoke to the steady, single beat of the monitor. It had been three days, and he was still motionless. Lying pale and ashen on the white hospital bed, hooked up to so many machines. She was yet to be told the full extent of the damage, as even Dr. Sullivan didn't know how bad it was. He didn't know how long the coma was going to last either. It was horrible seeing him so sick. He just didn't get sick. He just didn't. But he was. And there was nothing she could do about it.

The digital clock on the bedside table – half obscured by a vase of white and red roses – read 8:47am. Sunlight, warm and bright, filtered through the open window, along with a cool breeze. It blew the scent of the flowers in her direction and ruffled the curtains. She sighed and slowly got to her feet. She had refused to leave his side, even when she was told to go home. So she slept at the hospital and called her folks regularly, as was their agreement.

In ten minutes a nurse would come in and check on his progress. She would ask Donna if he awoke during the night and she would so 'no' and the nurse would say she's sorry and then she'd leave. It happened every day. She decided to get some breakfast first, so she patted his hand affectionately, carefully avoiding the IV, and headed off. He was in a private room in ICU, for even though his condition was stable, it was still critical. They said his heart could give out at any moment, and that scared her. More than she let others see.

She was tired, and coffee was her new best friend. She would wake up constantly during the night due to nightmares or thoughts that he had died and the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on her. If not for her coffee, she would probably fall asleep during the day quite often. Breakfast was usually toast and cereal and she would chat with people who had close friends or family members in the hospital, just to relate. Some even had it worse than her.

After breakfast, she dejectedly returned to ICU to see Dr. Sullivan waiting for her with some x-rays. He looked grim, and she braced herself for the worst. "I'm terribly sorry Ms. Noble..."
"But?" He gave a fleeting, weak, sad smile. "But the news is worse than we thought," she sat in a plastic chair as he put the x-rays on a light board. They were of two very different brains. "There has been severe damage to the Frontal and Left Temporal Lobes and minor damage to a section of the Cerebellum called the Hippocampus," he pointed out the sections of brain he was referring to. "...So what's going to happen to him?" He took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out as a sigh. "The Frontal Lobe is used for reasoning, planning, speech, some movement, emotions and problem solving, the Left Temporal Lobe is for recognition of sounds, memory and speech and the Hippocampus is important for learning and memory and converts short-term memories to long-term memories and is for knowing our relationship with the world around us,"
"So...?"
"He will no longer be able to speak and possibly hear, he won't be able to understand English but it is possible be will remember the basics. He may be Amnesiac and will quite possibly have limited movement, and it's possible he may need to be re-taught how to walk and move around properly," she lowered her eyes and stared at the floor, fighting back tears.

Dr. Sullivan looked almost as sad as her, staring unseeingly at the wall behind her. "He won't remember me," she whispered incredulously. It took him a second – he was clearly lost in thought – for him to realize she'd spoken. "Hmm?"
"He won't remember me," she repeated, louder. "I'm afraid not,"
"You know him," he took a step back and stared at her. "I-no-I mean I-... Err,"
"I know you do," he looked as if he was about to argue, but then he gave up. He sat on another chair and sighed. "There's no point in arguing... Yes, I know him,"
"I've never seen you before though,"
"I knew him many years ago, I travelled with him for a while, with Sarah,"
"Uh-huh,"
"Yes, he was UNIT's scientific advisor,"
"Ah..." They renaubed silent for a few seconds.

"I met him in the oddest circumstances," he stated, turning to watch the Doctor. "Trust me, so did I," he smiled at her comment, and his eyes lit up. "I got a call from the Brigadier telling me it was an urgent case, so I hurried there to see a man on the floor, muttering in some kind of delirium. He was talking about a spinning mouse or something,"
"Was he alright?"
"Sort of. I took him to the sick bay to do a proper examination, but when I went back with the equipment both he and his jacket were missing, I guessed where'd he'd gone and found him about to leave in the TARDIS," Donna smiled. That sounded like him. "So I tried to stop him but he was... It's hard to explain. He was trying to persuade me to let him go, I refused so he tied me up in a metal cupboard until Sarah and the Brigadier found me," she laughed. "I was at my wedding,"
"Oh dear,"
"And then I was suddenly in the TARDIS. I thought he'd kidnapped me or something,"
"He's regenerated again," he stated. "He's what?"
"Regenerated," he took out his wallet and showed a photo within. It was obviously of a younger him, standing beside a man with a ridiculously long scarf wrapped around the two of them and a young girl who had her arms wrapped around the man's waist. Doctor Sullivan was trying to inconspicuously steal the man's fedora.

That couldn't possibly be him. But the photo looked old enough to be genuine. "That's him?" She leaned closer to the photo, unbelieving. "Yes, quite different wasn't he?"
"That scarf is ridiculous. I'm guessing the girl's Sarah?"
"Yes, Sarah-Jane. She saw him very much as a brother. To me... He was more of a mentor I guess," he shrugged, and then seemed to notice the time. "Oh, sorry Ms. Noble-"
"Call me Donna," he smiled and they shook hands. "Harry," he informed. She was glad to know someone else who was friends with the Doctor. He seemed nice. But then reality came crashing down and the full force of what was happening hit her. Tears filled her eyes and she sat heavily in the chair. The slow beating on the monitor was no longer comforting. The steady rhythm faltered, and then sped up. It returned to a more normal beat and Donna wandered whether she was imagining it. His breathing hitched. There was a pause. His eyes opened.