Chapter 4

The Doctor's condition seemed to be slightly improving thanks to the pain relief - although his eyes looked tired and his pupils remained dark and dilated and it was clear he was feeling drowsy.

As he leant on the console and then reached for the switch, he did it very slowly, and then made an effort not to slur his words as he spoke into the channel:

"SOS...this is the Doctor, calling the Doctor. Urgent help needed, this is an emergency...SOS...need help."

The reply came back as nothing more than empty, static hiss, and the sound of it seemed like extra weight that had just added to Donna's despair.

"Maybe I should take over," she offered.

The Doctor was leaning heavily on the console, the shadows under his eyes had deepened and now he wasn't sweating any more, nor did his face look flushed. Instead, he looked a deathly shade of pale.

"Doctor?" Donna said, as worry crept into her voice,"You don't look right..."

"I'm going to.." he paused, dragging in a breath as he fought off a wave of nausea, "Send a coded SOS...it'll play on a twelve hour loop... might not reach as far as the manual way but... Oh, I feel bloody sick!"

He took in another breath, and hastily set the controls, then watched as a red light blinked on and off on the control panel.

"Done," he said, and then he turned sharply from the console and hurried out of the room, and Donna hurried after him.

What followed next had left Donna's hopes that he was right about this being a good day absolutely crushed.

The Doctor had made it back to his room, where he had wrenched open the bathroom door, then fallen to his knees as his shaking hands gripped the toilet seat, and had been sick several times, and even when he had nothing more to throw up, he was still coughing and wreching - and it went on for three exhausting hours.

Finally Donna had helped him up, cleaned him up despite his protests that he could do it himself, and then she had helped him to undress and put him back to bed. He had taken more painkillers because the other dose was wearing off, but it seemed the nausea had really taken hold of him. She left him lying on his side beneath warm blankets, and had then taken his suit, which had caught some of the vomit, to the laundry room.

It was the start of four very tough days that saw the Doctor unable to leave his bed because of the sickness that had taken hold so viciously...

Each night, Donna had slept beside him as the Doctor went from shivering with cold to burning up with a fever, she had lost count of how many times she had changed the sheets and bathed him and then added more blankets because he said he was freezing cold, even though the Tardis had upped the temperature of the whole ship to try and meet his needs.

Giving him the second implant dose had made her heart ache, it had been every bit as painful as the first and the Doctor seemed to feel it all the more intensely because he was so weakened by the ordeal.

She had tried to persuade him to eat during better moments, but most of what she had managed to feed him came straight back up again. The Doctor already had a slender build and she knew if he lost any weight he would only get even weaker for it.

And the signal had been going out on a coded loop for four days now, and there had been no response...

Although she usually spoke her mind, after encountering two of the other Doctors and hearing the same reason for refusal, Donna didn't want to tell the Doctor that there had been no reply to the signal because of two reasons:

Either no one was out there, or word had got back to the others, telling them not to intervene because of the time line...She didn't know if that was a real possibility, but if they were all parts of the same person scattered about time and capable of communicating, surely, they spoke together sometimes, didn't they? She bet they would have over something like this...

As Donna sat beside the Doctor as he rested and struggled to cope with the side effects of the medication, he finally spoke up, ending a long silence that had only been punctured by his laboured breathing.

"Turn it off. Turn the SOS off. No one can hear it. I'm taking the Tardis back to Earth. Maybe I'll have better luck from there."

"Are you sure?"

As Donna looked into his eyes, she knew he was sure. He was too tired and weary and in too much pain to wait around for nothing.

"Turn it off for me...Can you do that? Did I show you how it works, I can't remember if you saw me switch it on..."

His memory was still hazy due to the pain relief.

"I know how to do it, I was right next to you," she reminded him, "And I'll go and do it now."

Then she got up and left the room, and went quickly down the corridor towards the Tardis console room, not wanting to think about how every effort had come to nothing, instead thinking on the fact that being on Earth could well make the signal easier for another Doctor to reach – it was all they had left to hope for now...

Donna walked into the console room and her thoughts were still on Earth and how they seemed to be running out of options frighteningly fast.

"Hello?" said a voice through the speaker system.

"What do you want?" she said wearily her thoughts still on returning to earth.

"More like, what do you want?" the voice complained, "I detect no hint of crisis in the universe at this time, yet I was sleeping and got woken up by an SOS signal! I suppose that's what I get for installing a second emergency channel right next to my bed!"

It had hit her now, and all her sadness was chased away as her hopes rose and it hit her that someone was out there, and had picked up the call.

"I'm sorry to wake you up," she said quickly, and ran over to the console and looked down into the monitor, "But we need help. It's a matter of life or death."

And the slim built, grey haired man with distinguished features and eyes like an angry owl glared at her as he turned on to his side and a female hand snaked over his shoulder and a woman who looked much younger than him with dark hair and wide eyes also looked into the camera.

"If it's life or death he doesn't mind, do you, Doctor?" she said as if prompting him to give a more sympathetic response.

He gave a sigh.

"Sorry about that...I was in bed with my girlfriend and..." he stopped, his eyes widening in surprise, "Donna?" he exclaimed.

Donna looked back at him with equal surprise, and for two reasons:

She had wondered how he knew her name, and she was also wondering how this guy had the same face as a man they had not long ago saved from the volcanic eruption in Pompeii...

"No!" she exclaimed, "You're never the Doctor! Really? How? You can't be..."

"I am!" he said, and now his tone was warmer as he looked at her through the monitor.

"But your face...Pompeii... How did you do that?"

"I decided in my Tenth life time that one day I would wear this face to remind me what I do – I save people."

And Donna smiled as she blinked away tears of joy.

"I'm with him right now – the Tenth you...let me think, so...if he chose your face, you must remember everything about him in that life, am I right? Does that make you closer to him than most of your other selves?"

"I suppose so, why?"

"We need your help. He's dying from radiation poisoning. He doesn't want to go."

"I remember that," he replied, "I really didn't want to go. I would have given anything to...No, wait...I'm forgetting because I was in my Tenth life then, and now I'm in my Twelfth...Give me a minute..."

He paused, exchanged a glance with the woman beside him and then looked back at the camera.

"Okay, maybe I'm glad you woke me up..." and he glanced again to his lover, "Clara, this never happened in my other time line," he said in a hushed voice, and she gave a look of surprise and then shifted from view as she left his side.

The Doctor looked back into the monitor.

"He's changed his mind? He can't do that! I'm the Twelfth Doctor, I came along after him...I'm brand new, I'm not quite like him, I have a whole new set of regenerations... But I do recall how I died in that life time and you wasn't even there! I had to wipe your memory, I left you behind -"

"He found a way to fix that. He pulled out some of the power to keep him going...not that it's helped much. And he's run out of blood and he needs transfusions, and he's getting weaker. He's using these medication implants and its making him worse instead of better! And no one will listen, no one wants to help in case the time line gets damaged!"

Donna had tears in her eyes.

"Please help us," she begged him.

He silently recalled Donna so well from his other lifetime - and how it took a lot to make her cry. He also recalled how much he had loved her, and he felt an ache and a yearning for yesterday in his twin hearts - and then a flicker of guilt as he wondered if that was a betrayal of his Clara.

The Twelfth Doctor paused for thought, and then he looked back into the monitor.

"Well, I do understand why my other selves have refused. But I also know this – he's already changed his past by deciding to live as long as he can with the damage caused by the radiation, and nothing here has changed. I'm still here."

And then he smiled brightly.

"You can turn that signal off, Donna. I'll do what I can to help. Give me an hour. We'll come over to you."

"Thank you so much!" she said gratefully as she wished she could reach through the screen and hug him.

"Don't thank me yet," he reminded her as his smile faded, "I get what he's doing...he needs blood...I've got blood stocked up from my Eleventh and current life in the med bay. And I'm hoping both will be compatible. But I'm the start of a new set of regenerations – just because my blood will be a match it doesn't automatically follow that my bone marrow will be. But I'm hoping it will work out. He's done all the right things with the transfusions and the chemo but he can't last on it. He needs bone marrow. But, if mine isn't a perfect match there will be no more I can do."

"It will be a match," Donna said firmly, "It has to be."

"If you say so," he replied doubtfully, "I know you Donna, please remember what I just said to you. My bone marrow may not be quite right for him. We won't know until we test for it. I'll see you soon."

Then the screen went off.

Donna didn't want to think about his doubts, because at last she saw a glimmer of hope. She left the console room and went back down the corridor towards the bedroom, this time with a smile on her face.

"He's going to help us – a future you – number Twelve – he said he's coming over to us in an hour...What have you done?"

The Doctor was out of bed and dressed – minus his jacket and tie as he paused by the mirror to partly button his shirt, leaving the neck open because he now felt a little too hot.

He turned to Donna and looked at her in surprise.

"What did you say?"

"You're out of bed!"

She was still staring at him.

"I know that, I feel okay...having a good day at last. I've upped the pain meds and I feel somewhere between okay and a bit too okay but I'm not complaining! Did you just say I've got a donor?"

Donna was still staring.

"Say something!" he exclaimed as his hearts raced and he wasn't sure of it was the meds or the hope that was sparking up inside him, "Donna, speak to me!"

She looked at him, and then she blinked away tears that glazed her eyes as she ran her hand over his hair. It was now just over an inch in length and shot through with tiny slivers of grey.

"What did you cut your hair for?"

"Because I'm sick of waking up and finding it all over the pillow."

"But your hair -" Donna sounded heartbroken.

"We knew this would happen."

"Are you going grey?" she exclaimed.

"Slightly, it's a side effect of the medication - hopefully this will be as bad as gets, I lost a bit and some of it has turned a bit silver...I think it still looks okay."

"I loved your hair the way it was."

"So did I, but we have more important stuff to be thinking about?"

"I know that, but..."

"Donna," he said, feeling his usually easy going self starting to run thin on patience, "Did you say we have a donor?"

"Yeah..I think so...he said he's not sure if he's compatible because he's the first in a new set of regenerations, but he wants to help. He's coming over to us in an hour."

The Doctor smiled and a sparkle came back to his eyes that had been long absent as he grabbed her and hugged her tightly.

"I knew it was going to work out!" he said happily, and then he kissed her and hugged her again, and for a brief time she shared his optimism, now staying silent about her worries regarding the Twelfth Doctor's doubts.

Ever since the call had come through, Clara had remained thoughtful as she joined the Doctor at the console and he prepared to set landing coordinates to send his Tardis over to the Tardis of his former self.

She watched as he finished pressing buttons and then she looked at him.

"I think it's great you're doing this."

He glanced at her.

"So do I, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I can understand the other Doctors refusing because of the time line – they will all refuse, because the time line, to them, has to come first. But I'm the latest model," and he smiled, "I'm still here, Clara. That proves what ever happens won't wipe me out of existence because it would have done so already if it was going to happen – it would have happened the minute he decided to live instead of regenerate."

Clara leant against the console and looked up at him.

"But what about the future? Something has to change, right?"

"Maybe...but my memories are already changing, I now recall deciding not die," he paused, and a brief look of discomfort came to his face and then it was gone again, "I'm also recalling the pain he's going through right now. And I get the feeling that I won't be a donor for him. Remember when I regenerated, and I told you I didn't like the colour of my kidneys?"

Clara thought back.

"That was just you talking nonsense, some kind of post regenerative confusion."

"No," he told her, "It wasn't, Clara. I'm completely new. I'm still the Doctor, but the first in a new set of regenerations. That could mean a few variations in biological match even if the DNA matches perfectly. My blood could be a match for him but my bone marrow may not be. As soon as we go over there I'm going to run a match and see what turns up, there's no point giving him false hope."

"I hope you're wrong," Clara said.

"So do I," the Doctor replied, and then he threw a lever, and the Tardis melted away from the depths of inky space, and landed inside the other Tardis that floated nearby.

As the other Tardis materialised, the Tenth Doctor was leaning against the console as a wave of weakness swept over him, but seeing the sight of another blue box was enough to bring back his strength, along with a huge surge of hope.

"...And you will not believe his face!" Donna exclaimed again, "Pompeii!" she said for the third time, and he looked at her wearily.

"Yes, I know... you keep telling me that. I just hope we can get this over with quickly because I don't want to suffer like this any longer than I have to."

Donna gave his hand a quick squeeze and then let go again as the door of the other Tardis opened.

"It's going to be fine," she whispered.

"I hope so," he said quietly in reply.

Then as the Twelfth Doctor and Clara stepped out, he and Donna walked over to meet his former self, and for a brief time all worries and doubts were cast aside as the Doctor met his future self for the first time, and as they greeted each other warmly Donna smiled as she said Hi to Clara Oswald, and in that brief time, it was a moment that lifted the Doctor out of his despair as he looked to his older, future self and hoped he was looking into the eyes of the man who would save his life.

Nothing was yet guaranteed, but now he had something to hope for...