To Err is Human (Chapter 10)
Author: Lilac Summers
Rating: PG-13, language
Pairing: Doctor/Donna/John Smith
Category: humor, angst/romance
A/N: So finally we get to the part that resembles plot (if you squint, and are very generous.) :D Maybe another 2 chapters before the return of the Doctor... If you still haven't seen the episodes "Family of Blood" and "Human Nature," now would be a good time, as the bad guys make a return soon and I won't be taking the time to explain their plot too much in depth. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and been patiently waiting; I hope you enjoy!
Part 10:
There was warm breath in her hair, a softly-stubbled jaw against her neck, and Gallifreyan words tumbling by her ear.
Donna opened her eyes to dim pre-dawn light, confusion clearing as she realized she was spooned against the Doctor's body. For the first time in almost a week, she felt well, only slight soreness lingering from her stint with the flu.
She began the process of untangling herself, ready to escape the bed and the Doctor before the day started. The past week of illness had been the only exception when she hadn't forced herself up early to avoid facing the Doctor. But then, she'd been unconscious half the time, and then he'd been up while she recuperated - caring for her, bringing her tea and making sure she was comfortable before he left for classes.
The inactivity had driven her nuts, but she hadn't felt as smothered by the attention as she had expected. In her mind's eye she could see the Doctor being as equally solicitous should she have gotten ill on the TARDIS.
Except for the biscuits. He probably wouldn't have baked her biscuits...
And, of course, the Doctor would not have been wrapped around her, sharing her bed as if it were his god-given right, arms pulling her tight against a body that was happy to see her. So no matter how comfortable Donna found the warm bed and the body around her, she had to leave.
She allowed herself another five minutes of cuddling before the guilt prodded her on and she gently began to ease her legs off to the side, sliding over to the edge.
And the arms around her tightened.
Surprised, she turned her head to find the Doctor's slumberous eyes open and regarding her with a touch too much seriousness.
"Where are you going? You need rest," he murmured sleepily.
Donna shook her head and plucked at the fingers that had locked around her middle as he drew her back. "Nah, I'm fine. Back to normal."
"Stay," he said in a sleep-roughened voice that raised goosebumps up her arms.
"I should get breakfast started."
"Please. I am not hungry. Stay."
She could have fought it, could have told him that she was hungry. But he looked so young and tousled and vulnerable at the moment that she couldn't. Something told her that it was very important for him that she stay in that bed a while longer.
"All right," she murmured, settling back in his hold although she knew she shouldn't. "For a little while."
He snuggled her under his chin, tucking her against him with unnecessary care until they fit like puzzle pieces. Almost instantly - in that odd way his human form had - he dropped off into sleep.
Donna focused on the window and watched the sun finish rising, telling herself that she'd be happy when things got back to normal and she had her own bed to herself back on the TARDIS. The Doctor would be embarrassed for a little bit, and maybe stuff would be awkward for a few days - but in the end they'd go back to being Donna and the Doctor, intergalactic pals and nothing more.
It'd be just like old times. Exactly what she wanted. What they both wanted.
And if her view of the morning sky happened to get a little watery, well that was because the dawning light was so bright.
Donna chewed a leftover biscuit thoughtfully, trying to count exactly how much time they had left as sat at the table and nursed a hot cup of tea.
Almost two months exactly had passed. She couldn't believe she'd made it this far. If she played her cards right, she could hold the Doctor off, easy. Time for another "period" after all, and then some more "courting" and there you go. Back to normal.
It would be a relief. Really it would.
Donna swallowed hard, forcing the bite down a sudden lump in her throat.
The Doctor entered, rumpled and sleepy in pajamas and a dressing gown, to stand by the door and stare at her long enough to make her fidget. Donna lifted one auburn brow. "Something on my face?"
He moved towards her, dropping a hand to her hair and tilting her head back slightly so she looked up at him, a smidge upside-down.
"You look well. Fully recovered," he stated, relief making his voice catch slightly. He bent forward and dropped his shaggy head briefly so they rested forehead to forehead.
Donna, always unaccountably embarrassed by these displays of affection, reached her free hand up and over to pat his head awkwardly. "M'all right. Good as new."
He didn't move, his arms draped over her shoulders like a rag doll. Donna fidgeted slightly - it was almost easier to deal with his sexual advances than with these moments of tenderness. It was when she felt as if she were playing on his fake emotions more keenly. Stupid TARDIS and her stupid manipulations.
Donna clumsily lifted up a biscuit with her free hand, almost poking him in the eye. "Biscuit? It's yummy."
He straightened with a wet laugh and took the offered good. With one last stroke to her rumpled hair, he moved away and seated himself across from her.
"Why aren't you dressed for classes?"
"Boys are doing a run around the field this morning. I have some extra time."
"Ah, well then," smiled Donna, rising to pour him a cup of tea and nudge the plate of biscuits over. "Breakfast of champions, served."
He quirked a smile back, took the cup of hot liquid from her, then sat staring down at the biscuit in his hand.
"Wot's wrong," mumbled Donna around another mouthful. "Biscuits not good enough for the morning? Do you actually want breakfast after all? I can scramble up some eggs and toast if you want."
"I am sorry."
Donna spluttered crumbs. "What? Why? I mean, okay, so they're a little dry, but I'm not picky when someone bakes me biscuit-"
He looked up at her, amusement warring with shame. "No darling, not the biscuits. I - I am sorry I did not realize how sick you were sooner."
Donna rolled her eyes. "What are you now, a doctor?" Oh, the irony of it all.
"I should have known something was wrong when you- and you were so warm, but I ..." he went back to staring at the biscuit, leaving a confused Donna trying to decipher his rambling.
"When I what? Did I say funny things in my sleep? 'Cos I was delirious, you know, so, um, stuff I might have said...well, no need to dwell on it is all." And she remembered quite a few snatches of fevered dreams, and seeing Rose, asking for Martha, begging for the TARDIS.
"Yes, I know that. I had not thought you had taken my stories quite to heart so much they would give you nightmares. But no, I meant the night the fever hit you. I should not have let you work yourself into such a state. I knew you weren't yourself, but it was so hard to think around what you were...what we..."
He lapsed once more into shamed silence while Donna stared. Let her what? What had happened? She remembered well the day before she fell ill, the kiss gone out-of-control, his promises of patience, but then the fever had struck and it had all been heat and dreams.
Giving up, she returned drily, "You know what would be really helpful? If any of those were complete sentences."
He flushed crimson, and Donna immediately felt bad for teasing. "Hey, I was just kidd-"
His eyes rose suddenly to pin her in place, the biscuit in his hand crumbling to pieces as his hand clenched into a fist. "I am sorry I took advantage of you in your illness. I did not realize at the time that you were ill, but I knew something was strange and yet-"
The biscuit that Donna has been bringing up to her mouth dropped down into her tea cup with a wet splash, her brain processing what he had just said. "WHAT!"
Her mind flashed to all the nights spent in delirium, burning up. She could not possibly imagine the Doctor - in any form - taking advantage of that. "When!"
The Doctor lifted his teacup, set it down abruptly as his hands shook. "The first night you fell ill - when you kissed me and then were...amorous. I should have known you would not touch me that way. I have been thinking, if only I had stopped you sooner, paid more attention, fetched Nurse Redfern more quickly. Oh, Donna, you were so very ill." He made to reach for her hand, then pulled back abruptly to clench his hands together around his cup, scattering crumbs. "Can you forgive me?" he pleaded.
Donna's vision had glazed in shock. Her mind helpfully supplied the required memory: Donna riding the Doctor as though he were a bronco, pinning his arms, giving him a handjob as he shuddered beneath her. Donna's skin exploded with appalled heat. That was supposed to be a dream!
Donna finally focused on the Doctor's anxious, guilty face and could only imagine that her own face held the same sick expression. "You mean, that really happened?"
The Doctor's eyes shut in a brief display of pain. "You did not recall? Of course not; your fever must have already been too intense."
"I thought it was a dream," murmured Donna in a small voice.
"Darling, I am so sorry. Please, please - tell me you forgive me," he cried, clutching his teacup so hard she feared it would shatter.
I keep fucking everything up! She reached over, carefully tugged at a hand until it unclenched from around the fragile porcelain to grip her hand instead. "It's okay. Hey, you didn't know."
"But I should have-"
"No, let's not...let's not think about that. Let's pretend it never happened. Okay?" Oh god, I was assaulting him in his sleep!
"But-"
"Shush. Just...just go and get ready for the day. I'm all better, no harm done. Couple of hours wouldn't have made a difference anyway," she railroaded over him with determination. Can't even trust myself unconscious!
"Donna..."
"John! Just go!" at his stricken look, she tempered her voice. "Please. I really, really don't blame you. Can we not bring this up again?"
He nodded once at her mutely, gaze downcast as he moved from the table and left the room, shutting the bedroom door very quietly behind him.
Donna dropped her head to the table and pounded her forehead against the wood in defeat.
About half an hour later, Donna had struggled and fought for composure. She'd been sick - she couldn't be held accountable, really. The Doctor had stopped her in time, and surely he wouldn't hold what she'd done in the throes of a fever against her, later.
And she'd hurt his feelings, just now. Donna wasn't stupid, she could learn, honest she could. Walking this knife edge of push and pull was exhausting, but she only had to do it for a few more weeks - surely she could manage not to harm the Doctor's fragile human feelings further.
The bedroom door opened and the Doctor stepped out in his wool suit, struggling with his tie in a bid to avoid her eyes.
"Here." Donna made her way to him, easing the tie from his fumbling hands to straighten out the knot. He looked down at her with sad eyes.
Finished, she smoothed a hand down the soft fabric of his shirt, fussing with a collar that didn't need adjusting. She could already feel a blush climbing up her throat. "Look, seriously. I don't blame you at all for my, uhhh, being 'amorous.' And I don't expect you to have some crazy divination powers, either. Don't feel guilty 'cos you didn't know I was sick sooner."
His hands came up to cover hers where she was nervously wrinkling his collar. "Donna," he said in a very low voice and her eyes flew up to his. "I almost lost you. I do not think I can ever forgive myself for not realizing something was wrong."
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, helplessly looking for a way to reassure him gently. "Well that...that..." She blew a frustrated breath out. "That's just dumb."
His mouth dropped into a little shocked 'oh'. "Pardon?"
"That's just dumb, you feeling guilty when you've exhausted yourself taking care of me and putting up with me this whole time. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. I was all but holding you down and it's hard to think when someone attacks you in your sleep, okay? Look, can we please drop this now - I'm gonna die of embarrassment here."
His gaze softened in that way that made her knees tremble. "Oh, Donna. No, none of this was your fault and you should never be embarrassed for t-touching me." He swallowed noisily. "It felt wonderful."
Her skin, already rosy, flamed crimson. Wow, she so didn't want to be talking about this anymore.
"Ha! Well, look at the time!" She swiveled her head towards a wall that, incidentally, had no clock. "You should really get going, huh?"
The Doctor turned to look at the correct wall - the one that actually held a clock - and sighed a little when he saw he still had a full ten minutes before he needed to leave. Regardless he released Donna's hands and stepped back to retrieve his robe and hat.
Donna moved to viciously punch some couch cushions into shape, looking very industrious as she waited for the Doctor to take his leave.
"Donna?"
"Yeah," she called absently, giving another cushion a solid smack.
"Since you are feeling well, would you like to - the village is having a dance; the academy staff will all be there and I was wondering -"
She paused in her task of abusing the couch, and cast him such a horrified look he backtracked hastily.
"No, forget I asked. You have barely recovered, the last thing you need is a noisy crowd. We will spend a nice evening here; I can tell you about how my students are coming along," he blathered on, swinging his robe around his shoulders.
Normally Donna would have loved a party, but the very idea of dressing up and facing down the snooty, sexist crowds that had been passing along stories of her supposed infidelity - it made her want to throw something. And having to act the part of demure wife for a whole night would just kill her.
"I will be back a bit earlier than usual then, eh? Since the school day is abbreviated for the festivities."
"Sure," responded Donna, just anything to get him out so she could recoup and escape to the TARDIS.
But then her conversation with Joan niggled at her: not fitting in, making everything harder for the Doctor, causing talk... And the Doctor was hiding his disappointment so poorly.
She blew out another gusty sigh, disturbed the cloud of dust her cushion pounding had created and ended on a sneeze. "Wait. Umm, I changed my mind. Maybe a dance would be fun after all."
The Doctor paused in the act of putting on his ridiculous hat and graced her with a smile that was blinding as he took one loping step her way and swept her up in an impromptu happy hug.
"Just don't step all over my feet if we dance, 'kay?" she muttered gruffly, flustered at the show of overt joy.
"Of course not," he smacked a kiss on her forehead and all but skipped to the door.
Well, hell. Another gusty sigh and sneeze combo. "And I'm going into town today. Gonna take a walk around the hills to get some fresh air, and then head to the market. Y'know, in case you get back and are wondering where I am; so you won't worry."
He stared, startled, for a full beat. But then the look he shot at her was so grateful that her blush returned with a vengeance.
"Thank you," he acknowledged quietly, and finally exited the flat.
Donna smoothed a hand down her burning cheeks grumpily, then kicked the table leg in a fit of bad humor. Going to dances and keeping him informed of her whereabouts like a sodding lil' homemaker.
Turning into a regular pansy, I am.
She stepped into the TARDIS, first time in weeks, and the lights from the console flared so brightly Donna had to close her eyes, the afterimages like star-bursts behind her closed lids.
"Gee, I take it you're happy to see me?" stated Donna deadpan as she cautiously reopened her eyes. A low thrum of noise echoed through the chamber, making Donna grin.
"Yeah, I missed you too, a lil' bit." She demonstrated a measly amount with thumb and forefinger.
The TARDIS moaned a protest and Donna laughed, patting the console fondly before moving deeper into the ship.
"But I can't stay long; just came to restock some food since I figure unless I break an arm next, the Doctor won't be cooking anymore."
She entered the kitchen and found a tall, frothy glass of orange juice waiting for her at the table.
"Aww, that's sweet. But too little too late. All cured now." She moved past the juice and the thrum that had continuously followed her down the hall took on a disapproving edge.
"But I'm not thirsty!" argued Donna, flinging open the larder to root for packages of ready-made meals. Crap, all out.
Sibillant hisses that sounded like steam escaping from pipes made her jump and almost smack her head into the cupboard. She'd never heard that one before!
"All right! All right! No need to shout!" she countered petulantly, dropping the last few bags of instant rice into the bag waiting at her feet.
She downed the contents of orange juice - okay, not juice so much as some type of fizzy orange-flavored drink - and immediately felt the lingering achiness fade. "Okay, so maybe you were right," she admitted, setting the empty glass in the sink.
A smug hum vibrated through the kitchen, prompting Donna to roll her eyes. "Now now then, Miss Smarty-TARDIS. S'not like I would have even been sick if you hadn't dumped us in 1913, would I?"
The hum cut off abruptly.
"That's what I thought."
She returned to stuffing what she could find into her bag, resigning herself to the fact that she would end up having to actually cook for the most part. Their two month stay had depleted almost everything that was ready-made.
She spent another half an hour loitering in her bedroom, giving herself a mini facial (her skin was a dehydrated mess after being ill) and having a one-sided conversation with the ship. She refused to admit to herself that she was stalling.
Finally there was little more she could do, so she sailed for the doors with one final pat to the console. "Won't be long now. Just a few more weeks and we'll be back for good. Everything back to normal," exclaimed Donna with an edgy smile.
"A beach," she rambled, affected cheerfulness dripping heavily from her tone. "He totally owes me a beach after all this. You..."
Finally Donna lost her carefully-maintained steam, the forced joviality fading away to leave only plaintiveness as she rested her hand on the doorknob. "You'll let him know I tried my best, right? He'll understand about...everything. Right? It'll be okay?"
The TARDIS was startlingly silent once more.
Donna nudged the door open, then gripped the edge of the door with unsteady fingers so she could rest her forehead on the blue wood, hoping for one last reassuring hum that wasn't coming.
"Yeah, okay. Of course it'll be fine. No need to get the validation of a ship for chrissakes. Stop being an idiot, Donna," she chided herself quietly, before slipping through the opening and letting the door swing shut behind her.
The TARDIS lights dimmed down to a moody green as she went into shut-down mode once more.
Donna moved quickly down the quiet path that wove between verdant fields. For all her complaining - because, c'mon, all of time and earth and they were dumped into ENGLAND 1913? What, Bora Bora, during the age of poolside bars and basic antibiotics was too much to ask? - the town and farmland were picturesque. The dresses were pretty, if uncomfortable, and the customs charming, if stifling. She would have enjoyed a quick trip with the Doctor; it was the situation and extended stay that made it unbearable.
Donna lengthened her stride. She'd dallied a bit too long, as always. She hoped the Doctor wasn't already done with classes.
Donna turned to gauge the position of the sun, looking over a long stretch of farmland.
Her attention landed on a scarecrow, hanging in solitary watch over the field. It looked disturbingly as if a person had been crucified with a burlap bag over their heads.
Yeah, that's not creepy as fuck at all!
Donna shivered, looked away and sped up a little bit more. Movement from her peripheral vision had her abruptly stopping to whirl and stare.
Had the scarecrow just waved at her?
She waited, heart pounding, staring intently. Nothing happened.
Then the wind picked up a little, the strong breeze causing the scarecrow's limp arms to sway back and forth.
Donna's frame slumped in relief and she laughed at herself. God, that's what happened when there was no excitement for a while; she started imagining moving scarecrows. Life with the Doctor had utterly ruined her.
And crap, she still had another 15 minutes ahead of her before she made it home.
Readjusting her hold on her bag, Donna turned and made her way quickly down the rest of the hill.
Never noticing the scarecrow's head turning to follow her retreating figure with empty eyes.
To be continued ... Donna finally gets to kick some ass
Reviews are like a freaky scarecrow following you home. Wait, no! Awww, crap.