Ok guys, here's a nice long chapter to make up for chapter 8's hiatus! Hope you guys like it, and don't forget to R&R.
Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and whoever else owns it.
She didn't know what to do. It was her own house, and she had a key, but perhaps it was better to knock. She didn't know what the etiquette was when you brought home an alien with brain damage. He was gazing around him excitedly, and would occasionally start to wander off, to which she quickly grabbed his hand and he stayed put for another few minutes. She could understand – he was in a brand new environment, and his love for exploring had definitely stayed despite everything else being damaged. She eventually decided to knock, and the door was answered by Sylvia. She didn't look particularly happy. "You could have told me earlier," the Doctor tried to hide behind Donna. "I did tell you, you just weren't listening,"
"Was that before you decided to live at the hospital?" She was definitely not happy. "Yes, and I wasn't living at the hospital, I was just staying a while until I knew the Doctor was safe and recovering,"
"I'm not letting that alien just waltz into my house," before Donna could reply, she heard Wilf mutter from the hallway something along the lines of: "Just let them in…"
Sylvia gave the Doctor another disapproving glare before turning and walking wordlessly back inside. "Come on," Donna encouraged, pulling the Doctor inside and closing the door. She took off her coat as he stared to wander down the hall, occasionally spinning in a circle or turning to grin at her. "This is where you're gonna live for a while," he giggled – and there was no way in hell she was going to admit that she found it cute. He turned into the living room as Wilf appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "Hello Donna," he noticed the rest of the hallway was empty. "Where's the Doctor?"
"He's in the living room; I'm just letting him find his way around," he nodded as the Doctor walked back in. He grinned at Wilf, who stared at him and then Donna. "He really is different isn't he?"
"I know," his leg wobbled and he seemed about to fall, but he quickly righted himself. "He can't even walk properly anymore,"
"Sort of, he's getting there," she took his hand and leaded him into the kitchen.
Sylvia was cleaning dishes and decided to ignore them as they sat at the table, the Doctor still gazing wondrously around him, leaning on his cane. "How long's he been like this?"
"Ever since he woke up. He seems to be able to interpret certain emotions and actions, and some limited English – I think – but it'll be a while before we can reteach him how to talk," by now he was fiddling with a Rubik's Cube that had been left on the bench absentmindedly. After a few minutes it seemed to frustrate him and he threw it away half-heartedly. "Don't throw things," Donna scolded. He looked at her guiltily and sat down in the chair next to her. "How long does he have to stay here?" Sylvia asked, sounding irritated. Donna felt anger beginning to boil inside her. "He doesn't have to stay here, but he started wandering around the hospital on his own and we thought it would be safer for him to come live with us,"
"Why didn't you just let him stay at the hospital?" The anger spilt over and Donna leapt to her feet. "He's got brain damage and you don't care? Don't you understand how hard it is to see him sitting there just-just emotionlessly when usually he's running around and spouting all sorts of gibberish? Don't you care that he almost died because I got careless and let him run off in the middle of the night all by himself? I got angry with him, and that's why all of this has happened, I told him to leave me alone and he left and didn't come back," she was breathing heavily, doing everything to not yell. "He said he'd dropped me off to 'run some errands' but you know what? The whole time I knew he was lying, he was upset because of me, it's my fault all of this happened and you don't care!"
Tears were clouding her vision by the time she'd finished, and she wiped them away hastily. Nothing moved, shocked into silence. Even the wind seemed to have stopped blowing. She turned wordlessly to see the Doctor leaning away from her, looking afraid. She took his hands and pulled him to his feet, apologizing fervently, telling him she didn't mean to scare him, and leaded him away towards her bedroom. She sat him on her bed and then took out a blow-up mattress, clearing some of the mess on her floor to make room for it. He sat motionless and cross-legged on her bed, there was still fear in his eyes, but his expression had returned to its usual blankness. Once she'd prepared his bed – she didn't like the idea of him sleeping all alone in the living room on the couch – she sat beside him on her own and they stared at each other wordlessly.
She could see the fear dissipating, to be replaced by something else. He leaned closer to her, and she found herself frozen with shock as he reached towards her wiped a tear from her cheek. He almost seemed to realize what he was doing, and dropped his hand, twining his fingers in his lap. "I'm sorry I scared you," he tilted his head and regarded her with curiousity. From what she knew, he could understand when someone was speaking, but didn't know what they were saying. "I got carried away… But it is my fault this happened to you," she sighed. "Look at you, you're so… Quiet," she copied what he had done before, touching his cheek – although a bit more carefully in case she frightened him again. "I want you to say something, anything, you're not meant to be quiet, you're meant to be talking all the time so fast I can't understand you," he blinked slowly and then gazed down at the bed. She didn't even know if he was listening, but she felt she needed to continue anyway.
"It's surreal watching you be so different, but every time I look at you I know it's my fault you almost died. I want you to be angry with me, I want you to hate me, but I only see this adoration in your eyes and it… I don't want it," more tears were threatening to spill over, her eyes prickling and her throat constricting. "I don't want this admiration, I want you to hit me, to insult me, to yell at me but I know it's not going to happen because of what I did," she had honestly never said anything like what she was saying. She doubted many other people would willingly be hurt by someone so close to them, but she had hurt him so badly. She had caused him so much pain and then she'd just sat there. For all she knew he'd been tortured because of her stupidity. The Doctor pursed his lips, as if he was deep in thought, and then suddenly leaned forward again, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back until she was resting on his lap. She didn't know what to do, and briefly contemplated struggling out of his grasp, but gave up and rested her head on his chest, letting the tears flow freely for the first time since the night he had been found.
She must have fallen asleep at some point, because she woke up to evening light filtering through her window at an odd angle, She sat back and looked up to see the Doctor had also fallen asleep leaning against the wall. She sighed as the bright light only accentuated how pale he was and threw the bruises into focus. She quietly got off the bed, careful not to disrupt him, and headed into the bathroom. She hadn't had a shower for four days and was in desperate need of one. After she'd redressed she padded into the kitchen to find Wilf reading a book on Astronomy. "Hello Donna,"
"Hey,"
"You alright?"
"I'm…" There was no point lying to Wilf. "No. I'm not," he patted the seat next to his and she sat down heavily. He pushed a mug of hot chocolate towards her and she eyed it suspiciously. "They always used to make you feel better," she laughed. "I know,"
"Is he alright?" She nodded, taking a sip of the provided drink. "He's asleep,"
"Ah," she dreaded the answer to the next question. "Where's mum?"
"She went to get the groceries,"
"But she did that yesterday didn't she?"
"I think it was an excuse to get some fresh air and think about her actions,"
"I shouldn't have yelled at her, it was stupid and careless," she would apologize later. "But that doesn't mean she didn't deserve it," she had no answer to that.
After they'd eaten dinner in silence – after Donna had gently shaken the Doctor awake and coaxed him into eating a full meal – they went to their respective bedrooms. This time the Doctor sat on his blowup mattress, and much to Donna's amusement seemed to find it hilarious to jump up and down on it before flopping onto his back, giggling. It was nothing like him and so very him at the same time. Once Donna had changed into pajamas and helped him into his – usually she would have felt awkward doing anything remotely like changing his clothes, but of course these circumstances were different – she sat under the covers and watched him. He was rolling around under the covers, affectively wrapping himself in them with a joyous expression. He was genuinely laughing after he was all rugged up, and to Donna that was an improvement – before he couldn't make any noise at all – and found herself laughing with him.
After they'd both grown exhausted from the laughter she unwrapped him and draped the blanket over him before switching the light off. She could feel his eyes on her, and after almost ten minutes rolled over so she was on her side and gazed back at him. In the gloom she saw his eyes widen, as if he hadn't expected her to notice him staring, and he quickly closed his eyes. She smiled at his peaceful form, realizing how irrational her breakdown from earlier was and she almost laughed at herself. Sleep eluded her, and she growled in frustration as she sat up to once again check the alarm clock, which now read 2:38am. She doubted she would get any sleep that night, and lay back down, closing her eyes and waiting. She couldn't be quite sure if she'd heard it the first time, but she was sure she heard a quiet moan the second time. She turned to face the Doctor and he whimpered in his sleep, his breathing getting faster. She didn't know what to do, as he hadn't had nightmares in the hospital and opted for waking him up. She crouched beside him and gently shook his shoulder as he began to toss under the covers. He didn't wake, his breathing became ragged, and he whimpered again. "C'mon mate, wake up," she urged, shaking him again. He yelped and his eyes flew open, scrabbling backwards and falling off the bed in his attempt to escape whatever danger had haunted him in his dream.
She remained motionless as he became aware of his surroundings, the fear leaving his eyes and recognition dawning. He whimpered again, even though he knew he was safe, and squeezed his eyes shut, hugging his knees to his chest. "Hey, hey it's alright," she pulled him to his feet, but he tried to get away until she sat him on her bed. He sobbed and then hugged her suddenly, burying his face in her shoulder. She rubbed soothing circles on his back until he had calmed down and he gazed up at her warily. "It's alright, I'm here, you're fine," she found the words cruelly ironic as soon as they left her mouth and she fought back the urge to laugh harshly at them. She went to lie back down, but he remained clinging to her, and she found she didn't want to force him back into his own bed, and let him sleep beside her for the rest of the night.
The next morning, after she'd dressed the Doctor and herself, the Doctor seemed almost embarrassed. He kept running his hands through his hair, and she found it reminded her a lot of him before the incident. Perhaps he was gaining aspects of his old personality, she thought idly as she entered the living room with the Doctor in tow. She was quite surprised to find Sylvia and Wilf and sitting on the couch with two Police Officers opposite. One was a girl, and looked to be in her late twenties, with short dark hair, and a boy who looked a bit older, with white-blonde. They both turned to stare at her when she entered, and she pulled the Doctor behind her almost protectively. What if they were there to take him away? It was stupid and irrational, but she couldn't shake the thought.
"Hello, you must be Donna Noble," the man said in a friendly tone. "Hi," he glanced at the Doctor. "And this must be Mr. Smith," he continued. Of course, he believed the Doctor was called John Smith, as did everyone else she didn't know. "Yes," she didn't want to remain standing in the doorway, so she went over to a separate couch and sat the Doctor down beside her. "I'm Jen, and this is Chris. We're here to talk to you about Mr. Smith's assailant," she felt a sudden sense of foreboding as the girl, Jen, spoke. "We believe it was a gang that had attacked him, and that we may have caught one of them," she took out a heap of papers from her clipboard. "A woman called Niela Fletcher was found to be in the vicinity when Mr. Smith was injured," Donna couldn't believe what she was hearing. It couldn't have been Niela; she wouldn't ever do anything to hurt anyone… But then again, she knew nothing of her past.
She gazed at the papers, and was surprised to find she had no recorded birth certificate or any credentials, no bank statements, the list went on. "Wow, I know Niela, she works where I do,"
"You hadn't noticed any strange behaviour or anything?" Chris asked, taking a pen and a piece of paper. "No… Well, I don't think so," she tried to remember the conversation she'd had with her when she was getting the Doctor some new flowers. "Well, she did seem very intent on knowing when I was taking him home," he made a note as she gave the papers back to Jen. "Another man, James Gorrd, was also in the area at the time," she said as she put the papers in her folder and brought out some more. "He has since been arrested, but was found to have gotten his way into the hospital in which Mr. Smith was being held," Donna remembered 'James' all too vividly, and shuddered at the images his name brought. "He tried to get him, I was there," the pen and paper returned. "He just walked, dressed up like any other doctor in the hospital, and tried to tell us he was to look after the Do- John," she was lucky she'd corrected herself at the last moment. She wasn't used to having to call him John.
More papers were exchanged before a serious atmosphere settled over everyone. "But we cannot arrest either of them under the charge of attempted murder,"
"Why not?" Wilf asked incredulously. Donna was still trying to get her head around the fact Niela might have tried to kill the Doctor. Chris sighed and continued off from where Jen started. "A gun was found in a nearby dumpster, with Mr. Smith's fingerprints on it," no one responded. Donna turned and stated at the Doctor, who decided to stare back, curious from the sudden attention he was so used to receiving. "With this new information, we are now treating the case as an attempted suicide," Chris continued, looking solemn.
There was a minute's silence. "But you dropped the case," Donna stated, facing him again. "Yes, a civilian who wishes to remain anonymous found the weapon in a dumpster and informed us of it," Donna's shock quickly turned to suspicion. The police would have done a whole sweep of the area; surely they would have found something so glaringly obvious. The suspicion faded, only to be replaced by a crushing guilt. Surely the Doctor wouldn't have tried to… But what if he did? She took a deep breath, fighting back more tears. She didn't want to turn to a blubbering mess in front of two police officers, who were starting to get to their feet. "We will continue the investigation for a further week, tracking the origins of the weapon," Jen must have been trying to sound comforting. "Thanks," was all Donna could say.
Once Wilf and Sylvia had shown out, she sat at the kitchen table, watching the porridge in front of her slowly grow cold. She had suddenly lost her appetite, and opted for watching the Doctor, who was digging into his breakfast with a grin. This was going to be a long day.