Author's Note: I am feeling so not geared up for this particular episode anymore, so it's a bit rushed, sorry, ('cause i'm super excited for what i'm doing to blink and the master.)

"Donna, I," John Smith cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling awkwardly, "there's a...dance in town. Tonight, um, a dance..."

Donna smirked as she held a biscuit to Jamie.

"And, I'm aware you told Professor Farrel that you wouldn't be attending, but I wanted to...to tell you that it would mean the world to me...if, if you'd agree to accompany...me."

"John," Donna said, eyebrows raised as she waited patiently for John Smith to look at her. The blush on his cheeks was almost endearing.

"It's quite last minute, I know, very rude of me, but it quite thoroughly slipped my mind until Nurse Redfern reminded me just yesterday."

"Nurse Redfern?" Donna inquired as she wiped a bit of food off of Jamie's chin, ignoring his affronted squak.

"She was quite adamant...that I should ask you. She seems to think you're...not as happy as you could be here. And, Donna, I know I am to blame for that." He leaned forward onto the table, both hands reaching for her left. He looked at her, brown eyes wide, "I can't imagine the sadness that dogs you, to have the man you love ripped from you. I'm difficult, I know, but I only want for your happiness, and for your sons."

Donna's eyebrows constricted sadly, she sighed, "John," she started.

"I understand," he said sadly, looking down at the tabletop.

Donna rolled her eyes, how was it even possible for a grown man to look so much like a kicked puppy? It just wasn't right.

She brought her other hand to rest above his own, "Well, alright then," she stated brusquely, "I suppose a bit of a party never did anyone any harm."

John beamed up at her, his whole face lighting up, and Donna had to remind herself 'he's not real'.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head when she walked into his rooms. "oh, Donna," he'd sighed, leaning against his fireplace as his eyes went from her feet to the top of her head and back. "You look beautiful," he finally offered with a smile.

She waved a dismissive hand, "Old Yolly Strand let me borrow the dress, it's a bit tight in the shoulders and-"

He cut her off, "It's perfect," he said, shaking his head in awe, "just perfect, just like you."

Donna snorted disbelievingly, "Yeah, well," she said, moving restlessly from one foot to the other, "best get a move on then, if we want to make it in time, yeah?"

He nodded, and moved about the room as he finished getting ready, but every other moment he'd glance at her and smile.

As they walked towards town he did most of the talking, not that she was listening at all. The ebb and flow of his voice, so similar to the Doctor's, was soothing and when he reached for her hand, she didn't pull away.

And then shit quite thoroughly hit the fan.

"Doctor! Doctor!" A voice cried out, the voice of a man that Donna had seen in town several times, a great fool of a man. Dead now. "Come back, Doctor! Come home, come and claim your prize!" Donna grit her teeth in a grimace, she knew Martha and the baby were in the Tardis. Martha having retreated there for just the night, to comfortably watch James in peace. Donna knew the Tardis was probably the safest place for them both, no army could break through those doors, but...

Donna crouched down in the woods; she glanced at John Smith next to her.

"Out you come Doctor, there's a good boy! Come to the family!" The thing inside Baines added.

"This is the ending, Doctor!" A plump woman screamed (farmer Mcdours wife, if Donna remembered correctly), shrill on the edge of being incomprehensible.

Donna glared at them and grabbed John's arm, attempting to pull him away. "Donna," he whispered, "what's happening?"

"I, John, it's all going to be alright. We just need to find the watch, that's all, no need to worry."

His face twisted in confusion, "Again with the watch, Donna, what is happening? That box," he said, pointing at the Tardis just out of their reach, "I've seen it, in my dreams. I see so much in my dreams, strange things, like what happened at the dance, and that box, and it doesn't stop you at all. Like you've seen it all before."

She pulled him up, "We just need the watch, John, we just-"

John snatched his arm from her grasp, "What will the watch do, Donna? What do we need it for? I heard you before; you said the Doctor was in the watch? But I dream of the Doctor, I am the Doctor."

"You're just John Smith," Donna bit back, harsher then she meant too as she walked away knowing he would follow.

"He's real then?" he asked, his voice broken. "Is it all real?" He snagged her wrist, pulled her back almost roughly and held her by her upper arms, "Is it real?" he questioned.

"Yes," she admitted, "It's, it's real. And right now, we need to find the watch, so we can wake up the Doctor. He'll save us."

"What about me?" he asked, his eyes shining. "What about me, Donna?"

She reached between them, resting a pale hand on the lapel of his jacket; she could feel the warmth of him through the material. "I don't know," she said, lying to him.

He snorted and shook his head, "Do I die, Donna? Do I?"

"No! No, of course not! You'll just...be different. You'll be the Doctor again, like it should be."

His big brown eyes swept over her face. "You're with me...in my dreams," he said at last, "James is my son."

"He is. He is your son, the Doctor's son," she admitted.

"But he's not yours; you didn't give birth to him, did you?"

"He is mine," she said strongly, "I may not have, you know, pushed him out, but he is mine, my son, and yours."

John swept her into a tight embrace, she could feel his breath in her hair and the sobs he was trying to keep contained, "God Donna, we'll run, won't we? You and me and the universe."

"Anywhere in time," she countered as her own arms snaked around his waist.

His hands were in her hair, "We've got a watch to find then."

Right before opening the watch that good little Timothy returned to him he grabbed Donna, pressed her against a tree and kissed her. Kissed her like a dying man, Donna tried to forget that he was dying...and he didn't even know it. He ran his hands through her hair, up her sides, ground his body against hers, invaded her mouth with his tongue, and left her gasping for breath. 'He's not real' she told herself.

He stepped away; face contorted in sorrow, and opened the watch.

The Doctor defeated the Family.

The Doctor no longer looked her in the eye.

DISCLAIMER: You are hereby disclaimed, ser.