Author's Note: So! I realized, re-reading the first chapter, that it might not be clear how long they have been married. Heh! They've been married for two years, to set things straight. Donna thinking that it's been ten years is part of her confusion and memories resurfacing. Okay! Any questions or comments, feel free to drop a line! Please also forgive any typos or inconsistencies; my Beta is sick and I don't want to trouble her, but I still wanted to post this and get it out to you lickety-split!

Chapter Two

The Beginning and the End

x

It was cold out, nice and crisp. The air was so clean on nights like this. The sky was so clear. It didn't matter that the cold soaked right into his bones and joints; at his age, he was lucky he was still able to climb that hill each night. Wilf was sitting up on that very hill, gazing into his telescope, when his mobile rang. His back pocket began buzzing and nearly startled him out of his lawn chair. There were only two people who had this number, and Donna had called last night to check in with him. She never called two days in a row. Not unless it was an emergency. Or worse. What if it was him? He had to admit, when the Doctor had returned, again with a new face, intent on rescuing Donna from the sadness that had settled into the very cracks at her eyes when she smiled, Wilf had been overjoyed. He was here to save his girl, his Shooting Star. And at first, he had. He truly had. Donna, already divorced, had begun smiling again, her self-esteem was beginning to rebuild. But then…then the hot flashes had begun. She had had relapses.

With cold-stiffened fingers, he groped behind him until he had rescued the buzzing thing and had turned it on.

"Hullo? Donna?"

"She's remembering, Wilf. She's remembering."

Wilf ran a hand over his face, a heavy weight of exhaustion settling over his shoulders and sinking into his bones. It was just time. Time running against them all.

"I told you this was a bad idea, to keep doing this. If she remembered once, she would remember again. I told you she was too smart. She would remember. She had to. How could she really forget all of that? With all she's done? All she's been through?" But she was happy…wasn't she? His Little General?

Wilf heard a thunk and could imagine the Doctor hitting his head against the wall, one of his newer traits. He was the same as before, and yet completely different than when he had been that skinny lad, running around in a suit and trainers. Just as skinny, but now with brown hair with a touch of salt, sparkling brown eyes, prominent cheek bones and a wide, smiling mouth.

"I know. I know it was a bad idea, but Wilf, you don't understand what I took from her. I had—"

"Don't you dare," Wilf said, his voice suddenly pitched low. He stood, using the arm of the chair to help him get up. "Don't you dare tell me that I don't know what she's lost. Don't you think that I don't know. You gave her the stars and then you took her away from all of it. And you didn't just take it away. You made it never exist. You're the one who doesn't know. You don't know what her life was like before. You don't…you don't understand. She's always had a spark in her, Doctor. But she never saw it. She never did. Her mum had her thinking all kinds of awful things. Not until you, Doctor. Not…not until you."

The Doctor closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall. His hearts were shattering. "Wilf…she's the most important woman who ever lived. She saved everything. Everything. I had to give her something. I had…I had to make her happy—I had to see her happy, Wilf!" He slammed his head against the wall again, his eyes squeezed shut. "I couldn't see her sinking into what she was before…into whom she thought she was. She's so much. She is so much."

He tilted his head and opened his eyes. There she was, asleep on the sofa. She never slept as peacefully as she was sleeping now. There were always cares traced across her face. The cares of an entire universe. He looked away, the pain becoming almost overwhelming. If he hadn't found her…but no, that's not right. She had found him. Or, the TARDIS had found her for him.

Hadn't She?

Wilf looked up at the sky. It was strange. Donna and the stars—they had always been tied together in his mind. The first night he had seen her, when her mother brought her home, he had seen the most brilliant shooting star just an hour before. He hadn't really been a stargazer in those days; he had had a fleeting interest, but nothing more. But since that shooting star…bright as a sun, it was. Twice as beautiful. He couldn't get stars out of his mind. Stars and…life. Alien life. Looking into his granddaughter's face for the first time, how could something so beautiful have come from Earth? How could Earth be the only thing to produce such beautiful life? She had sparked all his interest in the heavens. Ever since his daughter had adopted her.

"Then save her, Doctor. This isn't enough. This half-life you've given her now, it isn't enough. She needs more, Doctor. You have to figure out how to save her. She's so much more than she knows. She needs to know. She needs to know."

The Doctor turned and looked once more at Donna, lying sleeping on the couch. Wilf was right. He needed something new. She was remembering too quickly. He had known it was possible to come back into her life when the Master had returned, when he was still his tenth incarnation. She had begun to remember, but she had survived. Inexplicably. No human should have been able to survive the presence of a Time Lord mind, and yet she had. The idea that she could survive had niggled and niggled at him, through his many adventures after. Then one day, out of the blue, he had come back to check up on her through Wilf. And he had learned that she was getting divorced from the Temple man. Donna had felt she wasn't able to devote herself to her husband, Wilf had said, and that had driven her to sorrow. She had divorced him, even though he had said whatever piece of herself she could give him was enough, she refused. She couldn't partly devote herself to anyone. It wasn't right.

And the Doctor knew. He knew that this was his opportunity to truly take care of her, to bring back the joy and spark to her eye. And he had, at first. But the longer he was with her, the more he realized she had not recovered. There was still sorrow deep in those brown eyes of hers. So much sorrow. The only time he could drive it out of her eyes was…well…

The Doctor turned a light pink and closed his eyes. "Wilf,. I'll bring her back. Somehow."

Wilf's eyes, already moist, filled with tears. He smiled up at the stars. "I know you will, Doctor."

Donna was having the nicest dream. She was flying through the Universe on a beam of light. Stars were born around her as she flew; planets formed, lived their lives, and died, only to be bottled up again in new stars, exploded out to form new planets. Life formed, life died, and life continued to be born again. She saw it all. She saw Universes collect, spin and dance around each other; she saw them collide and fly apart. It was all she had ever known. It was all she would ever know, and that was wonderful. It was the nicest dream.

The Doctor made sure that Donna was still sleeping deeply. He slipped his mobile phone back into his pocket and hovered over her. She let out a soft sigh and turned, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids. He smiled a little as he ran his fingers through her hair. She would be asleep for hours longer, and when she awoke, she would remember nothing. He glanced at her one more time as he was walking out the door. His hearts swelled and he locked her in safely. The TARDIS was near, in the apartment over. He couldn't leave it out on the street like he could in Britain. No big blue boxes here in the states. He unlocked the door and slipped inside.

"Right," he said, entering the TARDIS with a snap of his fingers. "We need to go see an expert." He grinned, throwing a switch and grabbing his go-to hammer. "And I have just the expert in mind."

It never took long to get from one place to another in the TARDIS. A little banging, a little twisting and a lot of yelling, and there he was—exactly where he needed to be, every single time. He threw open the door, grinning and stepped into…

An old junk shop. He frowned, looked up at the TARDIS, and then re-entered it. He locked up, and tried again, grabbing his hammer. The TARDIS started up, then suddenly stopped. She went cold, the lights went out. The Doctor flung his hammer over his shoulder, frowning. "Come on, Sexy! I know you're fine." He threw some switches again, pulled out his sonic screwdriver and began to inspect his old girl. An hour later, he knew she was fine. This…this was intentional. He groaned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well isn't this just Christmas," he muttered, slamming open the TARDIS door and then slamming it closed behind him. He folded his arms across his chest, grunted and looked around. There was no one here. The lights were out and the door looked locked. What was he here for? There had to be a reason. There was always a reason. He began pacing through the aisles of…was this a pawn shop? Was that what the locals called it? He snorted again, and in a burst of frustration, slammed his hands down onto one of the glass cases.

"Bollocks. It is definitely time to go," he muttered and spun around. He jumped in surprise when the glass he had just been leaning on slid away and clattered onto the floor, marvelously intact.

"Gravy!" He tried to wrestle the glass back into place, only to have it fight him at every turn. Something caught his eye as he tried once more to force the glass panel back into place. There…that shine. He grabbed a ring, stared at it intently. He recognized that shine. That metal…his people had traded with the Hoothi to get it, long ago. It was beyond precious. And here it was, lying around idly on Earth. He swallowed, fingers beginning to shake as he lifted it up to look at it closely. "That…is a diamond from Gallifrey. There is nothing so pure an indigo on Earth. And those, those are Gallifreyan pearls. What are you doing here…?"

There was an engraving on the inside, a series of circles and swoops that would be gibberish, doodles, to humans. But he could read them.

To Our Daughter—Lady of Time, Remember Who You Are.

He nearly dropped the thing in surprise, but his fingers wouldn't let him. They had it gripped tightly, unwilling to let go of his little piece of home. Home…home, lost in another Universe, leaving him never to see another Time Lord again…never…unless…unless…!

He spun around, glass panel be damned, and sprinted back to the TARDIS. She opened to him immediately, running and humming and ready to go.

"Oh, beautiful, beautiful Girl! I could kiss you!"

She rumbled in response, and he laughed as he flipped a few switches, half-leapt onto the dash and began twisting nobs.

"Don't worry, Sexy, I'll save that for my wife." He laughed, turning a light pink as he gazed down at the ring in his palm, one leg still propped up on the dash of the TARDIS. "My wife," he said again, feeling a little pride swell in his chest. Each of his wives had been so different. His last several had been women he hadn't necessarily chosen. Donna…he had chosen Donna.

And maybe…maybe he knew why. With a grin, he leapt off of the panels of the TARDIS, flung the door open and immediately flung it closed again.

"Wrong apartment, Old Girl!"

With an annoyed wheeze, the TARDIS made the lengthy journey to the apartment directly across the hall. The Doctor made sure to lock the door behind him, a skip in his step, and a very special ring in his pocket for a very special woman in his life.