Perhaps if you were a television personality, Donna thought, this feeling of watching your life might one day seem normal. Ok, so she couldn't see herself. But this...sitting in her home with her family...unheard, unseen, a not-so-detached observer. She was in effect watching her life. Her family. Her home. Her memories. Once upon a time, the thought might have intrigued her. What did they talk about in her absence? What did they say about her? But to be honest, anytime her name was mentioned, she wanted to cover her ears. Not that it was bad. Not that it was particularly good (her lack of contact was not going down well, especially with her mother). But it was like reading someone's diary. After the first few words, you realised that the words would never sit easily with you, no matter how you digested them.

"She didn't ring?" her mother asked, sitting down in front of the television.

Gramps shook his head slowly, his face thoughtful. In a minute, Donna knew he'd get up and check the weather. If it was a clear night, he'd head up the hill to check the skies, and watch the stars, watching probably for a familiar blue box to appear. The thought made her feel horribly lonely. How weird to feel homesick while sitting at home.

Her mother said nothing. In a suddenly uneasy atmosphere, she turned up the television and they turned their attention to it. On the evening news, a tall woman was speaking to a commentator in a large white office. Donna sighed loudly and curled up on the floor in front an armchair she couldn't really feel.

"We've worked in the shadows for so long," the woman was saying earnestly, "and given the events of recent months, we feel that that's no longer what is safe and what is best for humanity. People need to know who they can come to if they have concerns."

The doorbell rang and her mother got up to answer it.

"Gramps!" Donna said loudly for the hundredth time. He didn't move.

"What would you say to people who think that you work is a waste of valuable resources?" the commentator was asking.

"Come on, Bill!" The woman laughed softly. "Can there really be that many sceptics left? You've faced invasions. Last October, the entire planet was moved to a whole new part of the universe! You've been in serious danger time and time again from aliens very few of us know anything about. These invasions happen because no one knows enough to report anything strange."

"Strange in what sense?"

"People acting in an odd manner. Changes in weather patterns. Changes in just about anything really. It may sound extraordinary but there are aliens on this planet as we speak! They are very good at mimicking us but sooner or later they give themselves away. If we can give people a means to express their suspicions by working more publicly then all of us at Torchwood feel that we have responsibility to..."

"Torchwood!" Donna sat up.

"Torchwood!" Wilf sat forward, staring at the screen in wonder.

"This is your headquarters," the commentator was saying now. "Maybe you'd like to show us a little more of how and where you work, Moira."

"Absolutely!" Moira turned and faced the white room. She waved a hand airily around her.

"Welcome to the Torchwood Hub!"

"That's not Torchwood!" Donna leaned forward, until her face was almost touching the television screen. She'd never been inside Torchwood but she'd seen enough to be able to picture it as a dark, comfortable sort of place. Machines with awkward dials and levers pulsing away in the midst of utter chaos. Not unlike the TARDIS on a busy day...

The TARDIS

She sat back and looked around helplessly.

"Something's wrong," she told her grandfather sadly. "Something's really, really wrong."

If she sat at a certain angle in front of the television screen, it was almost as if he was directing all his attention at her.

Her mother returned, holding a book.

"Look at this!" Gramps said to her. His voice was louder than usual with excitement.

"What?" Her mother had the tone of voice she usually reserved for Donna when deciding whether or not to humour her.

"Torchwood! That lot that work with the Doctor! Donna could be there. Look, there's plenty of people!"

"Plenty of people?" Donna turned back to the screen, shifting herself to one side before she realised that there was no chance of her blocking anyone's view. If only...

"There's Martha!" She felt almost like crying at the sight of her.

"Keira and John here are my second-in-commands," Moira was saying, "and they'll be the people you'll have a direct line to when our Strategic Plans come into operation."

"Where's Jack?" Donna squinted, trying to see every angle of the room. "Why does she say she's in change?"

"I don't see Donna," Wilf said, sounding disappointed.

"Don't I know it," Donna muttered.

She stared at the screen as Moira turned in different directions, showing off every angle of the white room to the viewer. In the midst of the activity, Martha bent over papers at a desk, paying little attention to anyone. Beside her, a man who Donna recognised as Ianto Jones sat silently. He at least looked uncomfortable, she noticed. From time to time, he glanced around him, as of looking for something he had misplaced. Neither of them seemed in the least bit disconcerted at the sight of the television cameras.

"This is what's going to make our work much easier," Moira was saying, as the camera rolled in on a grey machine with a yellow lever. "This is a sort of detector and it makes beings from other worlds much easier to spot. I can give you a run down on how it works but we might have to get very technical!" She smiled at the camera as if she was flirting with it.

"Your research must cost a huge amount of money," the commentator said. He seemed, Donna thought, quite hooked on the money angle which was odd given the amount of questions the subject of Torchwood should bring up. Maybe he just didn't know where to start.

"Oh not really. At least, it doesn't have to," Moira said. "But in order to justify the work and resources we put in, help from the public is of the utmost importance. Quite frankly, it astonishes me that former Torchwood employees have never realised this."

"You'll realise a lot once I get near you," Donna muttered.

Moira straightened up again and turned back towards the centre of the room.

"Jack!" Donna cried and then, as tears filled her eyes, "Doctor!"

Yes, there they were. They stood to the left of the table where Martha and Ianto sat, both looking in the direction of the two. The Doctor was whispering something to Jack and why he was whispering was a bit of a mystery. It was obvious that they couldn't be seen. No one present was paying them the slightest bit of attention. She clenched her fists, staring, as if the intensity of her gaze might attract their attention.

Why was Jack looking so pale and worn out? She raised a hand and pretended to press it against their faces. But the camera was moving away again.

As it moved on, she caught sight of two people she didn't know, bent over a machine and talking quietly to each other. Jenny stood between them, making it look as if it was her they were sharing information with.

Donna sat back, almost weak with relief. Whatever was going on, she had found the Doctor at least. Now it was just a case of getting herself to Cardiff and finding out what the hell had happened since she walked out of the TARDIS.

Get herself to Cardiff.

Invisible.

Without any kind of physical substance.

Oh.

"Who was at the door?" Wilf asked.

"Alice," her mother said, "returning a book Donna lent her. Don't know why she bothered. It's not like Donna'll need it anytime soon."

"Ah well," Wilf moved to the window and glanced outside. "Think I'll stretch my legs for a bit."

Her mother inclined her head slightly and didn't reply.

Donna followed her grandfather out the door. Was it worth tracking Alice down? Her friend had claimed for years to be able to see ghosts. Did she qualify as a ghost? Anything was better than nothing, she decided. Alternatively, she could follow her grandfather up the hill, sit beside him and pretend that they were huddled together, watching the stars.

But he'd be watching for her, not with her.

They walked down the garden together. It was strange. Somehow, Donna knew that the evening chill was there, the chill that would usually send her shivering into her warmest coat. But it didn't affect her now. It was same with hunger. She felt hungry and thirsty but it wasn't a physical need, more like her mind telling her what she should feel.

The street was dark. For a moment she wondered if the street lights weren't working but they all were. Everything seemed dimmer somehow, as if clouded by fog.

She pulled out her phone again as she had been every so often. It was comforting to be able to feel and use something, even if it wasn't actually working. She dialled and held it to her ear.

"Come on Doctor!"

Silence.

The phone felt warm, probably from being in her pocket.

But her body shouldn't be giving out warmth, should it?

Interested now, she closed her hand around it and reached with the other for the nearest wall. Her hand pressed on rough concrete.

"Gramps!" she called, feeling her voice crack with high-pitched wonder.

He turned around, fixed his eyes on her face.

"Donna!" He took a step towards her, "Donna love!" His eyes widened.

"Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm fine now." She threw her arms around him, pressing her face to his shoulder as she tried to compose herself.

"Gramps, I've..." She stopped, wanting desperately to tell him but not wanting to worry him.

"Come on, love. You're cold. Let's get inside." He turned her gently towards the house.

"Where's the Doctor?"

"He'll be back," Donna said, "he's just...ow!" The phone in her hand was burning her. She dropped it and stepped away from it.

"It's glowing. Do you see that?" She wrapped her hand in her sleeve and bent down cautiously to it.

"Here, let me." Wilf crouched beside her as a harsh voice spoke above them.

"Move back from her, sir."

"What the hell?" Donna stood up. A man and woman stood over them, pointing something in Donna's direction. It wasn't exactly like a gun but enough like one...

She recognised the man.

"Mickey, it's me, Donna! We've met, remember? In the Crucible? We fought the Daleks together!"

His face remained impassive as he stared at Wilf.

"Sir? Move away from her now. Unless you want us to arrest you too."