After Donna was put on the stretcher and loaded into the TARDIS, the Doctor directed John toward the hospital wing and showed him how to use some of the more advanced equipment. Once that was done, the Time Lord waited outside the door of the blue box. Andor and Martin had their arms tied behind them by the same ropes that had been binding John, and they were glaring at him with varying degrees of fear and defiance. The Time Lord glared back, fury bubbling and burning inside, right under the surface. These men had kidnapped his companion, and now, they had attacked her. Her life could be in serious danger now because of them. She could be dying and it was their fault. And Molly and Lestrade were still out there, and they could be dead for all he knew, and it was their fault.

The Doctor heard the door behind him open, and someone lean against the TARDIS beside him. "What will you do with them?" Sherlock asked in a low voice.

"I'm not sure yet."

The detective looked at him briefly. The Time Lord was surprised to see something other than the usual cold indifference there. "You're a better man than me, Doctor," he said abruptly, causing the Doctor to look at him in surprise. "Let's keep it that way."

The Time Lord let out a slow breath. "I'm not so sure I am," he warned the human.

Sherlock gave a hollow little grin. "You took one look at Molly Hooper as she was and offered to show her the stars. I used her to my advantage when it suited me. Yes, you are." With that, he turned and walked back into the TARDIS, the door clicking gently shut behind him, leaving the Time Lord with the humans at his mercy.

He let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the TARDIS and closing his eyes. Molly Hooper. Of course that arrogant, too-clever detective had brought her up. Memories flashed in his mind of the three months they had spent on Earth, when he had been a human too eager to prove himself in battle. He could still remember Molly coming out of nowhere and forcing the rifle muzzle to the ground, saving the other soldier, but also saving him from becoming a killer. Again.

Molly would want him to spare them. He knew that. No matter how much she seemed to have changed, she was still the Molly Hooper who had gone to quite impressive lengths to save him from his own darkness. And right now, she needed his help, in more ways than one. That was more important than focusing his time and energy dishing out whatever these pathetic humans deserved. Molly was more important.

The Doctor opened his eyes, looking once again at the two men in front of him. Without a word he strode forward and grasped the shoulder of the one who had shot Donna, pulling him towards the TARDIS despite his protests. He shoved him somewhat unceremoniously into the box, turning to do the same with the other man, but there was no need. He was following of his own will, giving the Doctor a wary glance before stepping through the door into the TARDIS.

Both men let out gasps and whimpers at the sight of the TARDIS interior, murmuring their reactions, but the Doctor didn't pay any mind. He made his way to the console and started the TARDIS flight up. He knew what he had to do next, and they better be grateful that this was all he was going to do to them.

SCENEBREAK

Wilf had been sitting in front of the computer showing the security footage, doing his best to analyze it, when the familiar vworpp, vworpp,rang through the police station. He felt a rush of relief. "Donna's back!" he called out to Sylvia, who was sitting on a chair at another detective's desk, and Mrs. Hudson, who was talking to one of the detectives.

Everyone gathered to watch the blue box appear, with a noticeable lack of guns this time, Wilf was pleased to see. When the door opened, two men were shoved roughly out, falling onto the ground in front of the TARDIS. They had their hands bound behind their back, Wilf noted with alarm.

"What the hell?" Sergeant Donovan crouched by the men, but before she could do anything, the door to the TARDIS swung open, the Doctor standing behind it. Wilf started to call out to him, but the cold look in the alien's eyes stopped him.

"Those are the men that kidnapped John Watson and Donna Noble," he informed Donovan coolly. "I assume you can have them arrested?"

Donovan looked up at the Doctor with an outraged expression. "What, you just dump 'em here and expect me to arrest them? I need some evidence, for starters."

"Oh, I think you'll find they'll be more than happy to talk about it," the alien said, glancing down at the men.

Wilf followed his glance. The men was staring up at the TARDIS and the Doctor with fear in their eyes. "What the hell is that box thing?" one asked in a thick accent. "That's bloody unnatural, that is!" A glare from the Doctor silenced them.

After a moment, the alien looked up at Donovan again. "John and Donna will tell you what you need to know once they're able to. For now, could you take care of these two?" He was doing his best to be polite, but Wilf could see the clench in his jaw, the tight anger in his eyes, and knew that he was holding back a fierce anger at the men who had harmed his companions.

Donovan hesitated, but after glancing between the TARDIS and the men, she shook her head and sighed. "Whatever. Lestrade better sort this out when we find him." She turned to the other detectives, snapping, "You two, get them to holding."

As the crowd around the TARDIS dispersed, Wilf pushed his way to the front, coming up in front of the Doctor. Something the Doctor had said had been bugging him. "You said John and Donna would talk when they were able to?" he said carefully.

The Time Lord's anger melted away as he looked at Wilf, leaving a very tired, worried-looking alien in it's place. "There were some problems rescuing John," he said wearily.

Wilf felt something in his chest tighten in fear. A hand was laid on his shoulder, warm and comforting. He looked back to see Mrs. Hudson there, a warm smile on her face, which he returned. He didn't know the landlady well, but he was starting to appreciate her company with all that was going on. Especially now. After a moment, he turned to the Doctor, asking quietly, "Donna?"

The alien sighed, passing a hand over his face. He turned and walked back into the TARDIS, the open door an invitation. Wilf and Mrs. Hudson followed him in, Sylvia trailing after them, unusually silent. The Doctor leaned over with both hands on the console in front of him, expression closed off. "John's with her now, and Sherlock. I don't know how bad it is."

"Shouldn't you be in there?" Wilf turned to see Sylvia glaring at the Time Lord, but there wasn't as much fire behind it as before. It was a tired, fearful sort of anger. "You're the Doctor after all, can't you help her?"

The Doctor gave her a weary, empty half-smile. "Wrong sort of doctor," he told her sadly. "John Watson is an army doctor. He's seen worse than this, and here in the TARDIS he's got access to more advanced technology than he'd ever find on Earth. If anyone can save your daughter, it's him."

"Save her?" Wilf repeated in alarm. "You think it's that serious?"

Before the Doctor could respond, a voice called out from the hallway, "No, not life-threatening." Sherlock came out of the hallway into the console room, leading against the hallway arch with his arms crossed. "John's working on it now. The bullet passed mostly through muscle and skin, and didn't hit any major arteries." Wilf felt his chest loosen, and a fierce rush of relief. Judging by the Doctor's expression, he was feeling the same.

The Time Lord nodded. "Right. Sherlock, can you take them back to see her, if John says it's alright?"

"Of course," the detective said drily. "Come on. Donna could use someone new to yell at." Even as he complained, Wilf could see his own relief echoed in the detective's eyes. With that, he turned and started down the hallway, Sylvia and Mrs. Hudson following after him. Sherlock turned back, looking questioningly at Wilf. "You coming?"

"I'll catch up," Wilf replied. The detective shrugged, then continued down the hallway. Once they were out of earshot, Wilf turned back to the Time Lord, who was leaning over the console once again. Wilf took a few steps toward him, asking cautiously, "Are you alright, sir?"

The Doctor let out a heavy sigh. "Every time, I manage to put the people around me in danger. Every time."

"Yeah, but Donna's fine now," Wilf reminded him.

"That was luck," the Doctor said dismissively. "It could've been worse. She could've died. And it would have been my fault."

"Now hold on a minute," Wilf said firmly. The Doctor looked up at him with that same, bleak look in his eyes, but he was listening. "What would Donna say if she heard you saying such talk? It's not your fault some bloke shot her. You don't have control over him, or over her for that matter. It was her choice to come with you, her choice to put herself in danger to help John, not yours. She doesn't need you feeling guilty every time she gets hurt just because you were in the room."

The Doctor listened, his expression calming somewhat. "I suppose you're right."

"Donna would certainly think so. She'd lecture you into next week if she heard you talking like that." The Doctor let out a chuckle at that, expression becoming warm at the thought of his companion. Wilf grinned in response. "All right. Is that sorted then?

The alien's expression darkened again. "It's not just Donna. Molly's still out there too."

"We'll find her."

"But we may not find her in time. And if we do, then what? Things will only get worse."

Wilf 's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

The Doctor sighed. Wilf was shocked to see how old he looked, the sadness in his eyes seeming ancient. "Molly's been through some hard times recently. She had to fight this sort of battle, sort of, for a year. I was trapped, I couldn't help her, she had to do it on her own. And she did, she did it brilliantly. She saved the world. And after it was over, she seemed fine, and I thought that was it. The war was over, the battle was won and all that. But she's started to change. She's been avoiding me. And it's not just that. I can see it in her eyes, the way she's been acting, she's hurting. And for the life of me, I don't know what would help her and what would only make it worse."

Wilf listened with growing sympathy. He could see that the alien had been worrying over this for quite some time. There was a fear in his eyes, but also a resignation. He couldn't help but wonder how many humans had traveled with the Doctor so far, and how many goodbyes he'd had to say. Was that was he was afraid of? Another goodbye, and all because he hadn't been able to help this Molly when she most needed it?

He cleared his throat. "Have you tried talking to her about it?"

The alien shook his head. "I wanted to give her space. I didn't think she'd want to be reminded of it."

"Maybe," Wilf allowed, "but she probably feels like you've forgotten it ever happened." The Time Lord looked at him, but said nothing, letting him continue. "I served in a war before, Doctor. Did my duty to my country. And maybe it isn't the same as what your friend went through. But I know that when I came back, I didn't want to talk about what I'd seen over there."

The Doctor looked at him with a weary sort of interest. "Was it guilt?" he asked. Wilf wasn't surprised he asked that. He could see plenty of it in the Doctor's eyes. He seemed to thrive on guilt.

But that hadn't been his case. "No. I did my duty to Queen and country. Never killed a man, and proud of it. I did my part. But just because I didn't do anything to be ashamed of didn't stop me from seeing horrible things. The kind of things you don't want to bring back home with you. You don't want to talk about it, because it'll only upset the people around you. So you convince yourself that you can just forget about it, and that'll make everything better. But you end up bottling it up, and letting it grow, just getting worse and worse in the back of your mind." The old man smiled. "I was lucky. I had people who helped me before it got too bad. So yeah, maybe your friend doesn't want to talk. But you should at least let her know that you're there if she ever does want to talk. It's a start."

The Time Lord looked at Wilf almost oddly, like he was seeing him for the first time. It was a look that mixed respect and guilt and relief. Wilf wasn't sure what to make of the alien's expression, so he just waited for him to speak. After several moments, the Doctor said, "You're a remarkable man, Wilfred Mott."

Wilf brushed it off. "Nah, I'm just a rambling old man. I get it right sometimes though."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm older than you are," he with amusement.

The old man blinked. He looked the alien up and down. To all appearances, the Doctor looked to be in his thirties. He certainly had the face of a young man. "Get away," he scoffed.

"I'm nine hundred and three."

Wilf gaped at him. "What, really though?"

"Yeah."

Wilf really had to do a double-take at that one. Nine hundred and three? How could he possibly be that old? How could anyone be that old, period? They'd go mad from seeing too much. But then he looked in the alien's eyes again. That ancient look about the Time Lord's eyes, there it was. He understood now. The guilt and the fear and the acting old beyond his years wasn't because he was alien. It was because he was old, and had seen and lost too much. Wilf had already wondered earlier how many humans the Doctor had traveled with and lost. That number had grown much larger now, which meant more loss than he could ever hope to understand. No wonder the Doctor was so afraid of losing those around him.

He let out a low whistle. "Nine hundred years. We must look like insects to you." Insects with short life spans, so easily lost. Is that how he saw Donna? Just another little life that would eventually run out?

The Doctor smiled again, but this time it held more warmth, and even hope. "I think you look like giants," he said. He gave Wilf a grateful grin. "Thanks for listening to an old Time Lord. You've given me a lot to think about."

Wilf smiled. "Anytime, sir."

With that, he turned and started down the hallway where Sherlock and the others had gone.

SCENEBREAK

The Doctor watched Donna's grandfather disappear down the hallway, thinking over what the old man had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe staying silent had only hurt Molly more.

He straightened, jaw set in determination. It didn't matter. He couldn't change what he'd already done. But he could do everything he could from now on to help Molly. She deserved that much from him, after all she'd done for him.

But first they had to find her.

The Time Lord crossed back over to the door and out of the TARIDS. A few of the detectives looked up as he re-entered the police station, but returned to their work after a few moments. Good. Let them stay focused on finding Molly and Lestrade.

He made his way over to the computer where the security camera footage was displayed. As he sat down in front of the screen, he thought to himself, C'mon, I know you two are out there somewhere. Where are you, Molly?

It's 4:30 AM and I'm freaking tired, so this is going to be a short author's notes. Basically, I really wanted this episode to be 6 parts long at the max, but it looks like it might have to be 7 parts long. I'm going to try to jam everything into the next part, but I might not be able to. So if there ends up being a Part 7, it'll likely be a short one.

And I'm sorry about the end of the chapter. It was late, I was tired, I wanted to get this done, hence the sucky writing.

Also, yes, I grabbed that exchange about the Doctor's age from "The End of Time." My reason for doing so is because I won't be including "The End of Time" in my series, because as I already said, the Master's ring is gone, so he won't be returning. But I wanted to include that exchange because I found it so cute, kinda like I did with Molly reciting the "He's like fire and ice and rage" bit from "Human Nature" in "Last of the Time Lords" instead. See, I promised I'd include Wilf and Doctor adorableness even without "The End of Time!"

Now, I'm going to get 3 1/2 hour's sleep before class. Later all.

MadBoySam:Thank you for pointing out when he lost the screwdriver. :) I tried to answer your question before, which I don't know if you saw or not, but I couldn't remember when he'd lost the screwdriver. Anyway, in answer to your question; after Donovan and the other detectives decide to trust him, the detective that took his sonic screwdriver gave it back. Forgot to mention that.