(Note: Some Borrowed Dialogue)

Donna pounded helplessly on the TARDIS doors. The Doctor was out there, with the Daleks, and she couldn't bear to be left behind. "Doctor!" she called. "What have you done?" She tugged at the handle, tears of frustration and fear burning in her eyes.

She heard him, just outside, and felt him rattling the door handle. "It wasn't me, I didn't do anything!"

She shouted, pounding her hands on the door. "Oi! Oi, I'm not staying behind!" Please, no, she thought. Not like this, not now. "Doctor!"

She heard, speaking to the Daleks, and she could hear the fear in his voice. "Stop it! She's my friend. Now, open the door and let her out."

"This is Time Lord treachery!"

" Me? The door just closed on its own!"

The Dalek replied, in its strange, metallic voice, "Nevertheless: the TARDIS is a weapon and it will be destroyed."

No! She thought frantically, as the floor tilted out from under her, nearly knocking her off her feet. She grasped for the railing and felt a sharp pain as her arm banged against it before she could get a grip. "Doctor!" she called, but she knew he was gone, perhaps lost to her forever. The floor tilted again, slamming her against the railing as fires began to erupt from around the console.

The ship, she had to save the TARDIS, she thought, as she stumbled to the console, narrowly avoiding the flames that danced around it under the grating. The ship tilted wildly again as she touched the console. Tell me what to do! she thought frantically, but the ship was silent, apparently as powerless as she was. There was another lurch that did knock her off her feet, and she landed hard on her hands and knees under the console, next to the softly glowing jar that held the Doctor's hand.

Time seemed to slow as she looked at it, and she suddenly knew what she needed to do, as though someone were whispering instructions to her. Save us, save yourself, the voice whispered. She reached out her hand, shaking, to touch it, even as the flames and smoke intensified around her. As she made contact with the jar, a burst of energy flared through her, up her arm and down her spine, and she was frozen, trapped in the energy surging through her. Her entire body seemed consumed by the electric energy. She saw the jar burst open and the glow escape from it, before she was thrown backwards and the world went black.

"Nah, never-mind Felspoon. You know who I'd like to meet? Charlie Chaplin. I've heard he's great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin?" She picked up the phone as she circled the console, knowing she was babbling, fearful of stopping to think what was happening. "Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester, Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction, friction, fiction, fixen, mixen, rixten, brixton—" She drew in a gasping breath as she finally stopped the flow of words. She pressed her hand to her head, trying to catch her breath, as the Doctor moved closer. She couldn't bear to look at him. "Oh, my God."

She cringed at the sadness in his voice as he asked, "Do you know what's happening?"

"Yeah." She could feel the neurons misfiring, knew which parts of her brain were shutting down, overwhelmed by the Time Lord consciousness inside her. All that knowledge, burning up inside her.

"There's never been a Human-Time Lord metacrisis before now. And you know why."

Tears stung her eyes. "Because there can't be." She began fiddling with the controls, avoiding looking at him. "I want to stay." Please.

" Look at me," he said, and when she didn't, he repeated, "Donna, look at me."

She looked up at him, her whole body trembling. "I was gonna be with you... forever." She couldn't leave him, not like this, not now.

He whispered, "I know."

"The rest of my life... travelling... in the TARDIS. The Doctor-Donna." She could see it, all of time and space, spreading around them. Everything he knew. Suddenly she realized what he would have to do. "No. Oh, my God..." He wouldn't, would he?

She tried to back away, but he took hold of her shoulders gently. "I can't go back. Don't make me go back. Doctor... please. Please, don't make me go back." She couldn't. Not to that old life, without knowing him, and all they had seen and done. Without him. She pressed her hand down on the console, desperate to maintain some contact with the ship, with their life together.

"Donna. Oh, Donna Noble. I am so, so sorry." She couldn't bear the sadness she saw in his face. Couldn't bear to know the pain this would cause him. "But we had the best of times. The best." She felt tears running down her face, as he whispered, " Goodbye." He closed his eyes and reached up to press his hands to her temples

As he made contact, she felt a jolt of energy surge up her arm from where her hand rested on the console. "No. No, please! Please! No, NO! No!" She saw every moment with him rush past as he fought to hide away the memories of him, of all they had seen. And just before the blackness overtook her, she felt something else, another presence in her mind, calm and soothing. She felt his arms around her as the darkness won.

The pub was crowded and noisy, and Donna fidgeted in her seat. Her friends were gathered around her, and she should be happy, she knew. She should feel relaxed, and happy to be celebrating the end of the work day. But she wasn't. She felt restless and out of place, even though this was the same pub she and her friends had gathered in for ages now. Veena nudged her shoulder. "You alright?" she asked, as Donna turned to her.

She forced a smile. "Fine, just tired is all," she said, trying to sound cheerful. She traced her finger around the rim of her glass absently.

"Oh – did you burn yourself?" Veena exclaimed, grabbing Donna's wrist and turning it up to face her.

"What?" Donna looked down at her hand. She gasped as she saw a strange, raised pattern on her wrist.

"Ow!" Veena cried, releasing her arm as though she herself had been burned.

"What did you do?" Nerys asked sharply.

"Nothing!" Donna protested. The skin on her wrist tingled and she covered it with her other palm, pressing down. There was something familiar about it, just dancing on the edges of her mind, but she couldn't grab hold of the memory. The feeling of the pattern pressed against her palm made her feel safe and calm, although she couldn't explain why.

"Well, stop it, whatever it is," Nerys said crossly, returning to her conversation. Donna moved her hand and looked down at her wrist again. If only she could remember, she thought. Her temples throbbed with a dull, hot, pain, as they often did when she tried to remember.

"I have a headache," she said quietly to Veena. "I'm going home."

"Alright, but be careful," she replied.

"Yeah," Donna said absently, as she pushed her way through the crowds and out onto the street. That night she dreamt of the stars and of planets in the sky, and of an old-fashioned blue police box.

The next day she went through the motions at work, trying not to look at the mark on her wrist. It was warm to the touch if she pressed her palm over it, but her head ached when she tried to remember its significance. Was it an injury? She just couldn't remember, and she had the nagging feeling that she shouldn't be trying to remember. Not yet, her mind whispered, although that didn't make sense either. She went home after work, not stopping at the pub, and avoided her mother's concerned looks. When her grandfather went out with his telescope she went with him and sat with him in silence, studying the vast expanse of the stars. Her headache seemed to ease as she looked up, and she pretended not to notice him watching her closely.

That night, she dreamt of a tall man in a brown suit. His eyes were heartbreakingly sad as he turned to her. "Donna?" he said, and she woke with a start. The mark on her wrist tingled again and she looked down at it. It was growing stronger, she thought.

Weeks passed, the days blurred together. She went to work and went through the motions, went out with friends, and tried not to think about the strange dreams that faded almost as soon as she awakened. She pretended not to notice her mother and grandfather hovering over her, asking her how she felt. The truth was she was feeling more like herself every day. She didn't feel afraid or lost, but rather calm and safe. She no longer thought her memories were lost forever. She didn't know why she knew that, and she didn't question it, trusting that she was healing, even if she didn't know from what.

The mark on her wrist grew stronger, taking shape as though it had always been a part of her. She wore long sleeves to avoid the questions of her friends, but the truth was the mark made her feel protected. Her dreams grew more vivid, and she no longer awoke with a headache when the tall man in her dreams spoke to her. He was always there now, waiting when she fell asleep, and he seemed less sad somehow.

She was in the kitchen, washing dishes, when she heard it. A strange, wheezing, mechanical sound. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the sound, and she froze, hardly daring to move, as she realized what the sound was. It was him, she knew suddenly, without a doubt. The Doctor. She turned to the window and saw the blue of the police box, the door standing open.

Memories washed over her with a stunning force at the sight, and she stumbled back from the sink. She remembered everything, every moment with him, and the power of it made her knees buckle. She heard the door open and then strong arms around her; heard his voice as he caught her before she could fall.

"It's alright, I'm here, you're safe," he murmured as he lowered them both to the floor, his arms tight around her.

"It's you," she whispered. "Doctor." Memories washed over her and she clung to him, dimly aware of tears on her face as she buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in.

"Yes, I'm here," he said, his hands moving soothingly over her back as he held her close.

"You came back." She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his hearts beat, hardly daring to believe he was real.

"Of course I did," he said simply. "How could I leave you?"

She pushed slightly away so she could look at him, confused. "But—I thought I wouldn't ever be able to remember? I don't understand."

He smiled and squeezed her tighter. "I believed that too. But someone else knew better, it would seem." He released her with one hand and took hold of her wrist, turning it up. "The TARDIS."

"The mark? I don't understand—" she repeated. He brushed his thumb over the mark and she shivered.

"The TARDIS gave you a defence mechanism. Better than the one I had given you, by the way, but that's not the point," he added, shaking his head. "She gave you a way to remember, to let you filter out the Time Lord consciousness and keep your own memories, safely. She knew better than I did, it would seem. And she told me when it was safe to come back for you."

A defence mechanism? Clever girl, she thought. "She'll be very smug about that I should think," Donna said lightly, reaching up to cup his cheek with her hand. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, overwhelmed by the familiarity, and her joy at seeing him again.

He chuckled. "Yes, I should think so. She was more clear-headed than I was." He turned his head to kiss her palm.

"Why do you think that was?" Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears.

He drew her closer against him, pulling her more comfortably into his lap as they sat on the floor. "I think you know very well, Ms Noble."

"Maybe you should tell me, just to be sure."

"Because, I—" He stopped, swallowed hard. "I've been waiting for you...forever." He shook his head slightly. "You're everything to me," he said finally, and kissed her. She clung to him, overwhelmed with happiness and relief. He had come back for her, she thought. They were safe.