A/N: I haven't finished; this grew again. Sorry about that.
Part 11
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Rose edged her way cautiously out of her bedroom and crept along the TARDIS corridor. No way was she going to risk running into that vicious bitch Donna Noble in a hurry! There are only so many times you would deliberately put yourself in the way of a potential slap; and the one she'd received flipping hurt, both physically and mentally.
As she neared the console room and her aim, which in this case was a private word with the Doctor, Rose could hear the distinct sound of laughter tinkling down to greet her from a few doors away. Intrigued as to who would be laughing with such delight, she eased herself forward until she was at the doorway and could peep through the kitchen door that stood ajar. Inside were the Doctor, Tim and Donna. Rose involuntarily shuddered when she heard her voice, speaking too low to catch every single word.
But Rose's senses were put more on edge by the sight of the Doctor leaning back against a kitchen worktop adorned with mugs of tea; standing with a possessive arm wrapped around Donna's waist and a hand splayed across her stomach whilst talking animatedly with Tim, who was gazing back at him in abject wonder. "There's no way my kitten can become a nun, is there?" he asked his father.
"Tim, I'm not sure I can look after a kitten," Donna interjected carefully.
"I've thought of that, Mum," Tim replied triumphantly. "Jack said I can look after Edgar, no problem."
"Edgar?" Donna spluttered, trying not to laugh. "Why did you choose that name?"
Tim briefly scowled at her. "Because he looks like an Edgar. Keep up, Mum." He then ducked away as Donna swatted at him, and Rose found herself flinching in response.
"Tim!" the Doctor admonished him, causing Tim to look adorably apologetic.
"Sorry, Mum; but he honestly is an Edgar. It's in his eyes," he insisted; and they all giggled together.
Rose saw that family friendly moment as her cue to get out of there before she accidentally stormed in and demanded to know what the hell they thought they were up. In fact she wanted to rub their smug faces in the dirt. How dare they forget about her in this way? And what exactly was the Doctor playing at acting as though he actually cared about Donna like that? Okay, she was the 'mother' of his child; but that was it, for goodness sake! It wasn't as though they had had a passionate love affair or anything; it was purely motherhood as a surrogate.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Rose knew she would not get anywhere if she picked an argument with the Doctor, not with the way things seem to be played out in front of Donna at the moment. No, she would have to wait it out until Donna was once more out of the scene; probably permanently judging by the way everyone was treading softly around her. And once Donna was dead the Doctor would go running to Rose for consolation; she was sure of that.
Picking up the heavy bag at her feet, Rose tiptoed passed the door and headed for the main doors. Once outside she would be asking Jack for an enormous favour while she waited for the Doctor to miss her terribly and come running, or come to his sense; whichever scenario came first. All she hoped was that it wouldn't be longer than a couple of days.
"Was that who I thought it was?" Donna asked the Doctor, indicating towards the door with a nod of her head.
He smiled reassuringly down at her. "Yes, I think she's gone to ask Jack for a favour."
"I'm sure Mum would welcome her with open arms if she needs somewhere to sleep. Rose certainly made a good impression on her when she was running about with that gun of hers," Donna remarked.
"Gran wouldn't do that, would she?" Tim asked in shocked tones. "Surely she wouldn't prefer Rose over you!"
Donna reached across to caress his cheek. "Who knows with Mum? She certainly bent our ear often enough about how great Rose was, and how awful I was in comparison." Feeling his remorse beneath her touch, she tenderly drew him into her arms and whispered, "It's all my fault, not yours. None of this is your fault, so don't you ever think it is, Timothy Noble. I regret absolutely nothing where you are concerned, unless we are talking about what you went through."
Tim gave her a deep hug. "But I'm getting better," he stated in a small voice.
"I know," she said with delight. "Already you seem to be coming on in leaps and bounds thanks to your dad's pre-treatment experiments."
Tim peeped at the Doctor, causing him to laugh at Tim's expression. "I dread to think how he'll look when he perfects the eyebrow waggle," the Doctor remarked.
"He is not learning your eyebrow waggle!" Donna protested. "He doesn't even need to understand why you do it."
"But he might do very soon," the Doctor answered, breathing directly into her ear, hoping to get the seduction response he immediately gained from her.
Tim straightened himself, and said very bravely, "I'm ready, Dad. I want to try and be better still."
"Are you sure you are ready?" the Doctor queried. "It might make no difference whatsoever."
There was a slight hesitation before Tim firmly said, "At least I can try."
The Doctor was fussing about checking the medication line, the settings of the dials, and even the magnetic resonance, but Tim looked calm in comparison as he sat back in the chair. Yes he looked calm until you gazed into his eyes, and they were full of fear.
Tim clasped Donna's hand desperately. "I'm frightened, Mum," he quietly confessed.
She lovingly caressed his face. "It'll be alright, sweetheart. Your dad won't let anything bad happen to you. Do you still want to try?" she asked in reassurance. "Just say the word and all this will stop."
"I want to be whole again," he said with quiet determination, "for you."
She wiped away a proud tear and pressed a loving kiss on his forehead. "Good luck, darling," she said, and stepped away as the Doctor gestured to her to do so.
With a verbal flourish, the Doctor announced, "I shall now perform one of science's greatest tricks of transformation. Thanks to Jack and Torchwood I can enhance the qualities of the essential ingredients: stem cell technology and Time Lord blood." He then placed a gentle hand on Tim. "Are you ready, Tim Noble, to return to your former status?"
Tim hastily nodded. "Yes, Dad; I'm ready."
The door to the machine was shut and sealed, encasing Tim within. There was no going back now. As the Doctor switched on the machine a fine glow began to buzz into being. A pulsating metronome of sound hit them as they watched the precious mixture drip feed into Tim's vein.
Donna screamed as a film of golden light surrounded Tim, crawling across his skin and enveloping him in tightly. "You didn't say you'd kill him! He's dying! Stop it, please. You're forcing him to regenerate!" she shouted at the Doctor, her fists flying. But Jack caught hold of her to stop the potential attack.
"He knows what he is doing, Donna," Jack insisted. "Let him do his job."
"But Jack, he's my baby! I don't want him to die!" she pathetically cried out, breaking his heart. "Tim! Oh Tim!" She was distraught now; and Jack crushed her to his chest in a comforting embrace. "Please let me get to my baby!" she continued to sob.
"Shhh! It's okay, Donna," Jack soothed her as she collapsed in his arms. "Look!" he said in wonder after a few moments. "He's changing."
Donna forced herself to look. It was still Tim lying within the machine but there were subtle differences. His skin had smoothed out, softened, and plumped up. "He's gone younger!" she exclaimed in shock. "As if he's on rewind. I can't believe it; he barely looks eighteen now."
The Doctor smiled smugly at her. "I couldn't change his bone structure but I could change everything else about him for you," he stated, and held out a hand to draw her nearer. "Come and meet our son, version 2.0"
Donna giggled nervously. "Can I touch him?"
"Go ahead," the Doctor answered, "he's all yours." He opened the seal of the machine and they were all able to see Tim without the confines of the plastic windows.
"Tim?" Donna tried to attract his attention as she ran a finger up his arm, almost frightened to disturb his slumbers. "Can you talk to me, Tim?"
Tim's eyes fluttered open, and recognition flared in them as he said, "Hello, Mum. I feel different."
She sniffed back a sob. "You are different, but only a bit to look at. How's your head?"
"Good," he answered after some careful consideration. "It no longer feels all fuzzy, like I was swimming through treacle." His eyes widened as some thought obviously occurred to him. "Oh wow! I can really think again! It's like… Wow!"
"Is that the result of a new and improved brain?" she teased. It was so good to see true intelligence shine out of him once more; she could feel various thoughts and ideas whizz through his sleepy head.
Tim glimpsed at the machinery around him and frowned. "You used a diamode ondacian, Dad! Seriously? What were you thinking?" he scoffed.
The Doctor gave an embarrassed cough. "I had to work with what I was given, Tim," he defended himself.
"Yeah, but still…," Tim continued his scorn. "Anyone would think you were doing things on a shoe string."
"Enough of your cheek, young man!" The Doctor's eyes danced with merriment.
"So what do I have to do to get a hug around here?" Tim wondered.
"Oops! Sorry," the Doctor said as he jumped forward apologetically and released the restraints that had held Tim onto the chair.
Donna clasped a hand over her mouth as Tim threw his arms around the Doctor, who returned the embrace with gusto. At last she could breathe a proper sigh of relief. He was okay; Tim was finally okay.
