Chapter 10- The Grayness of Ice
Donna returned to her "home" after nearly an hour of pensive silence. Still with no answer for the itch in the back of her mind, she moved cautiously about her head. Each of her thoughts were careful and calculated, revealing nothing too important. What struck her odd was that, though she knew what they or it was looking for, she could not recall the Doctor's name, nor did it seem as though she had ever known it. She sincerely hoped he had not tampered with her mind.
"Mum?" Catherine emerged from the hallway that led back to her room, a concerned expression on her youthful face, "Are you alright?"
"Hmm," Donna mused distractedly, and then realized she what the child had asked and who she was talking to, "Oh, yes. I'm fine, dear."
"Are you sure? The cold wanted you. He wanted to pull you into ice, and night, and darkness," Catherine pulled out one of the chairs at the table and settled into it. She reached across the table to take Verianna's untouched cup of tea, "May I have this?" She asked politely.
Donna nodded, "Don't worry about me, Catherine. You know I can take care of myself. There's no need to worry. I promise, I won't let anything happen to me." She placed a hand on the back of her daughter's hair, "Not while I still have you to take care of."
"I know that you can take care of yourself, but we don't even know what is going on," Catherine placed the tea cup back on the table again.
Donna watched her for a moment lost in thought again, "And how can we defend ourselves against something that we know nothing of?"
"Exactly!" The young girl's voice exclaimed at her statement, "It's too dangerous!"
"Just dangerous enough," A new voice came from behind them and Donna turned to look over her shoulder, "Is this a typical morning for you two, sitting at the kitchen table making polite plans of action?"
"No," She responded immediately, the false affronted tone, one of habit, "Usually its quantum theory," Donna's eyes blazed with her sarcasm.
The Doctor dropped into the chair across from his companion and propped his chin on his hand. His gaze flickered from her to Catherine and then back again, one eyebrow cocked in an expression truly unique to him.
"So, from what I gather, whomever or whatever was trying to extract my name from your memories, Donna, is extremely strong telepathically." The Doctor turned his eyes to his daughter, "And I suppose whatever it is effected you differently that it did your mum, correct?"
Catherine nodded, "Nightmares, last night. Of course, you heard me talk about the cold. Whatever it is, is truly cold."
"Why didn't you come and get me?" he looked at Donna with concern.
Donna stared back at him for a moment and then gestured around herself, "We're on Gallifrey Spaceman, and, for whatever reason, there is a curfew. You daughter's wonderful Squareness gun did not connect my room to your closet until this morning, so I couldn't just slip out of my room."
The Doctor nodded, "There have to be ways to get around that. I wouldn't want to have you getting lost in my closet every time you wanted to talk."
"There are ways to get around a curfew, but first we need to figure out why there is a curfew in the first place," Donna lowered her eyes to her hands.
The Doctor nodded, "I couldn't agree more. I shall speak with my son later." He bit into a biscuit which he'd pulled from a plate on the table, "Now, getting back to the point, it's extremely telepathically strong which means…"
"It's either incredibly intelligent," Donna interrupted, "Or a combined consciousness. Perhaps, like the Ood."
"Mmm, maybe, but," He cast her an irritated glance, "Would you stop steeling my thunder?"
"What…" Donna smirked back, "The Oncoming Storm can't take it? Can't stand someone being as clever as him."
"Give me a break," There was a gagging sound from across the room, and the occupants of the table all turned to glance at the source. Luke stood there looking vaguely mortified but then crossed his arms over his chest, "What?"
The Doctor raised one eyebrow and Donna raised two. Catherine did something somewhere in between and then unabashedly hopped down from her chair. She broke the silence. In a few short instances, Donna watched her daughter transform from a serious, adult to a beaming child.
"Luke and I want to go see Jenny?" Catherine glanced imploringly, yet excitedly, at her parents.
Donna considered it for a moment and then nodded, "Alright, yeah, go and see your sister. I'm sure she misses you two."
Catherine smiled brightly and then gave Donna a kiss on the cheek and waved to the Doctor, "Thanks." With that, the little girl took Luke by the hand and dragged him out of the apartment.
Donna contemplated her daughter's split maturity for a moment and then returned her attention to the Doctor. He appeared lost in thought as well, staring at the door to the crystalline hallway beyond with an expression of consideration. She reached across the table and touched his arm.
"Doctor," the ginger temp from Chiswick spoke up with a soft, caring air.
The Doctor turned his gaze on her again, his countenance remaining the same though his eyes had softened slightly.
"What is it? What are you thinking?" she asked, brushing strand of flaming red hair from her face as she did so.
"I was thinking that Wilf is right about her," he commented distantly. His eyes slid away from hers as he made this statement, "She is a little general."
Donna glared at him, "Don't do this Doctor. Don't lie to me."
The Doctor's eyes connected with hers and for a fraction of a second she saw into him. Their link, telepathic or merely emotional, allowed her in. They shared for that moment, the same worries and fears, but then he stood and began to pace. Most of what she'd seen was gone like the light of a flashbulb on a camera. Donna's eyes tracked him as he walked small laps in the kitchen. He would occasionally pause and then open his mouth as though to say something, but then he would go back to brooding. This brooding, overly-irritated Time Lord was more than she wanted at the moment.
"I don't want this Donna," he finally stated, slamming the butt of his hand into the counter of the kitchenette, "It's all wrong, like someone is playing a sick joke on me. This isn't Gallifrey."
"I know," She replied, her eyes looking away from him to examine the milky brown liquid in the cup clutched between her hands, "But it is. Everything about it is more than real; it's alive and awake."
"But it's not the Gallifrey I know," The Doctor looked at her, pain desperately hidden behind a curtain of false anger.
"It's been a very long time since you've been here," she gazed sympathetically at him, "Life doesn't just stop because you've run off. When you're gone time keeps moving. Governments change, laws are made, society keeps going, growing. They don't stop cause you're gone, Doctor." She brushed her hair out of her eyes again and left her cup on the table as she crossed the room to stand in front of him, "The best you can do, we can do, is figure out what changed and try to fix it."
Donna looked up at him again, her hands making their way to his shoulders. She gave him a gentle shake, and a reassuring half-smile, "Different when it's your planet that's in danger isn't it?"
The Doctor looked back at her cautiously. He still leaned against the counter, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his trousers. His lack of a change of mood bothered her. He rarely ever sunk this far inside himself. There had been a glimmer of something when he'd first arrived, after the anger and fear had dissipated, a spark of light, hope and excitement in his eye, as though he couldn't wait to see his home again. Perhaps, she thought, it was the broken expectations of progress he had hoped to see that had dragged him into his depression again. Though the Doctor never admitted it, she knew him too well. Underneath everything, underneath his tie and suit and trench coat, underneath the excited alien, man who whisked people off to unimaginable places, was someone incredibly sad.
"Hey," she laid a gentle hand on his cheek. Donna felt the skin there move as he directed his full attention on her, "Your family waited for you." She paused, "When it comes right down to it, that's what really matters isn't it?" She paused again to let the words sink in. The temp saw a flash of realization in his chocolate eyes, and watched as the darkness and hurt that had filled them faded away, "Now," she lowered her hand slowly to her side again and then stepped away from him, "We have a job to do and, if I'm right, it'll take the both of us to do it."
Donna turned away from him to clear the table but not before she caught the flicker of a small and slightly amused, quirk of his lips. She hid her own soft smile behind a curtain of vibrant, ginger hair as she lifted the plate of biscuits from the table, and retrieved a few of the half-drunk cups of tea. She moved them from the table to the sink and tossed the Doctor a towel.
"There you are," she stated as he caught it, "Make yourself useful and help me dry these."
The Doctor, still silent, took one of the dishes from her as she lifted it from the soapy water she'd filled the sink with. After a few deft wipes with the towel, he set it down and took one of the tea cups as it was handed. Donna finished with her part of the washing long before he finished his drying, and she watch him with a level of amusement, as he awkwardly and meticulously rubbed the dishes dry.
"You'd think you'd never dried a set of dishes in your life." She commented as he up-ended the last tea cup on the counter and laid the towel down.
"Well I haven't done it with a towel," he replied, his voice vaguely offended, "A sonic works just as well if not better."
Donna laughed at his defensive tone and then slid the dishes into the cabinet. She made sure to show him exactly where they all went for next time so that he could put them away after he was done with them.
"Donna? Who's that with you?"
Donna let her laughter die away and then smiled at her grandfather as he entered the kitchen, "Morning Gramps. Would you like a cup of tea?" She offered, lifting the still hot kettle from the stove, "Spaceman's doing the dishes." Donna threw the Doctor a smirk and then continued back over to the table.
"Ah," Wilf glance conspiratorially at the Doctor and then nodded, "Good Morning, Doctor." He turned to his granddaughter, "I'd love some tea Donna."
"Same to you, Wilf." The Doctor wandered back over to the table, "And when did I volunteer to clean the freshly cleaned dishes?"
"Don't start whining about it, Spaceman," She poured the tea into a cup and then placed the kettle back on the stove. Lifting a hand she flicked her fingers, imploringly.
The Doctor sighed and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out the sonic screwdriver. Donna closed her fingers around it as he placed it on her palm and then slid it into her own pocket. She then flopped into one of the chairs at the table across from Wilf.
"So, Wilf, how is a new planet agreeing with you?"
Donna watched the Doctor move across the room, prior troubles seemingly forgotten for the moment. Then again perhaps he was hiding them better. She took a deep breath and then let her mind drift away from the conversation. The itch at the back of her mind was beginning to hurt again, as though the being, or mechanism, whatever it was, was trying even harder to get in. The ginger Time Lady inadvertently glanced at the Doctor for a moment and then immediately diverted her attention as the prodding became a stabbing pain. She bit her lip and closed her mind as tightly as she could, digging into the Doctor's memories to do so. She ran a hand over the hair at her temple, lips pursed in concentration and then let out a breath of air as she felt the stabbing pain slip away.
"Donna?" The Doctor's attention was back on her again, "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, fine." She replied quietly, "Just got a lot on my mind."
Donna didn't miss the narrowing of his eyes. He knew she was lying. Thankfully, he did not address the subject in front of Wilf. She pulled herself up from the table.
"I suppose that we should go and fetch the TARDIS if at all possible," Donna commented, unsure why she suddenly felt the need to be alone.
"Yeah," the Doctor conceded, "Wouldn't want anyone trying to take her. Then you'd all be stuck here."
"I'll just go and get changed into something…else," Donna gestured over her shoulder, vaguely.
"And I should tell, Veri where I'm going,"
The Doctor stood from the table as well and then two companions uttered vague comments of departure to each other. They disappeared in their respective directions. Wilf was left in a bewildered silence, feeling as though he had just missed a vital part of the conversation. There was also the nagging suspicion in his mind that his two previous tablemates, had a lot more complications coming to them, sometime in the future.
"Oh my dear Donna," he uttered quietly as he set his cup down on the table a rested his cheek on his hand, "Can't you ever find anything simple."
{{DOCTOR WHO}}
Donna slid herself into the skirt and tunic. She examined herself in the mirror with a critical eye. She had circles under her eyes. Too much had happened in too short a period of time and with her brain humming constantly, it was a wonder she was getting any sleep at all. Now she had no problem realizing why the Doctor was never far away when she would, on occasion, awaken in the night after a troubling dream. She never had to wake him.
The ginger-haired woman smoothed her hands over the creases in her creamy/white tunic and then tightened the royal purple sash around her waist. That completed, she brushed her hair together into a loose bun at the back of her head. Effects complete, she applied her make-up then re-evaluated. The darkness under her eyes was gone a bit now, as were the exhausted lines around them.
Satisfied, the temp, made her way out of her room and into the apartment. Her grandfather sat on the couch, a manual of Gallifreyan electronics in his hands. Donna smiled and waved to him as she slipped through the door.
The corridor outside bustled with people. Someone sheparded a group of interested looking humans along with deft motions. From the crowd of people, she spotted the maid whom had directed them to their rooms the previous night. She smiled at the woman, but the maid gave no indication that she even noticed her and shuffled on her way, each step halting and lurching. Donna turned to her right, a troubled glow in her eye as she strode purposefully up the corridor toward the Doctor's home. She was about to touch the small glowing 'button' beside the door when it opened.
"I was wondering how long it could possibly take for you to get ready," The Doctor quipped teasingly in greeting.
"Less time than it takes you," she replied, grasping his tie and forcing it into the proper position, "Really, men say women take forever." She rolled her eyes and slid past into the room hidden behind him.
She glanced around what seemed something akin to a fairy tale courtyard. Great columns lined where there should have been walls but weren't. Runes and carvings lined the crown of the room and multicolored vines hung in great overgrowth from what must once have been draped ropes. Donna smiled as she spotted a fountain in the corner of the room, water bubbling from it with a purple hue. Catherine sat there with Luke and Jenny, sketching on a solid floor with a piece of what appeared to be charcoal. The ginger-haired woman glanced over her shoulder and then proceeded carefully further into the room.
Of course the gentle breeze that blew across her was only present due to technological enhancements, but all the same, the view from the small couch by one of the walls was breathtaking. Momentarily, she remembered Pompeii and the family who had bought the TARDIS from the vendor. She recalled their home and all the odds and ends the warm drafty place was filled with. An appraising glance around her revealed a similar though infinitely more complex assortment of odds and ends. Perhaps they were a testament to all of the places the Doctor had been before the fall of Gallifrey. Donna's original intention had been to settle in one of the chairs by the fountain and tell Catherine where she was going, but that was lost as her eyes were drawn to an intricate globe. She crossed the room in a matter of seconds, turning it ever so slightly with a fondness that was not her own.
"Gallifrey, the whole of it." The Doctor commented coming to stand beside her, "I-"
"Yes, you won it during an IQity Competition on Farshnee." Donna brushed her fingers over each of the planet's ridges and mountains, "I didn't expect to see anything like this here." She grinned widely and gestured around, "I think your wife has it knocked as far as interior design. Compared to this, the TARDIS is just weird."
"I take great offense at that." He replied, sounding insulted.
"I'm sure your ego can suffer it, Spaceman," She glanced around the room one more time and then hurried over to Catherine.
"Greetings Mum," Catherine looked up from the sketch that Jenny had taken over.
"Hello Catherine," Donna paused, and then continued on, "I wanted to let you know that the Doctor and I are going to recover the TARDIS. Anything could have found it by now."
Catherine nodded her head and stood from her drawing. The little girl stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Donna's waist, "Alright, just be careful. Lia says that outside the Citadel, there are wild Time Lords. They don't like us or the laws of pacifism."
Donna licked her lips and glanced down at her daughter's head for a moment and then bent down to kiss it, "I'll be careful," she whispered, "and besides, if anyone knows what to do with rogue Time Lords, it's your father."
"Are you calling me a rogue?" he asked in mock offense.
"That was the idea, Spaceman," She answered and then placed another kiss on Catherine's head, "I'll be back tonight. If you need anything, talk to Lyibrine."
"I think I rather like the sound of that. Rogue," the Doctor mused as he wandered over to join them, "The roguish Doctor."
Donna rolled her eyes and shared a glance with Jenny. The blonde teen pulled herself up from the edge of the fountain and walked over to give the Doctor a hug. Her large brown eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around her father. Donna let go of Catherine and pulled Jenny into an embrace as well. When she let the girl go, she noticed that there was a slight frown hidden under the teen's dark eyes, betraying that she was troubled. Upon realizing that Jenny was not going to be forthcoming with her concerns, she resolved to confront the girl later.
"Alright, Donna," The Doctor held out a hand to her, which she took without hesitation, "Alonsy!"
Donna smiled a genuinely happy smile and allowed the Doctor to lead her, hand-in-hand, out into the corridor.
a/n- there was a bit of Doctor/Donna in there if you squint. I love the ending. And I can't waitto here was you think about this chapter.
An-mhaith,
Tabitha of MoonAurora
And just in case you didn't catch that subtle little hint, review!
