"Well, what did you two manage to come up with?" Jack sauntered over to Donna and the Doctor, Martha followed.
"Tada!" said Donna, holding out his Wrist Strap.
"Uh," started Martha uncertainly, "it looks the same."
Donna and the Doctor both opened their mouths to speak at the same time. "Well--" "Oh, but--"
The Doctor made and "after you" gesture with his hand and Donna started again. "Yeah, that's the beauty of it. We just used the stuff Jack found to adapt the Vortex Manipulator to pull power from the vortex, force all that back through the teleporter, then refocus it so that the hologram projector acts as a wide-beam dispersal field." She smiled triumphantly and Martha couldn't help smiling as well. Even the Doctor seemed swept up in her enthusiasm, a dramatic change from the near-catatonia of only a few minutes ago. But "the Dramatic Change" might be just as good a title for him as "the Oncoming Storm" she thought.
"The tricky part," the Doctor continued, "was, of course, adjusting the field harmonics so that the beam would be wide enough for all of us-- wouldn't want anyone to leave a toe behind-- without loosing the balance of power against gain saturation-- that's just as likely to rattle the fillings right out of your teeth." He flashed the first real smile Martha had seen since he arrived, "Donna figured that bit out," he said proudly.
"It was nothing," she waved a hand. "I just realized we had to overcome the resonator losses or the photons aligned with vortex adapter wouldn't have significant enough amplification. We ended up using a lens from the Doctor's glasses to transform the divergent beams into a collimated beam ...seemed to... beam? beam-seem?" Donna blinked several times, looking like she'd suddenly lost her train of thought, then recovered. "Just basic... basic.. basic something?"
She swayed on her feet. Jack and the Doctor both reached out to steady her, exchanging worried looks.
"The ring?" asked Jack, reaching for her hand. Martha could faintly hear a high pitched whine. The sound seemed to stutter, getting louder but higher too, so that she couldn't hear it so much as feel it in the back of her jaw.
Donna's eyes had drifted closed, one hand rubbing her forehead. Suddenly she gave a yell, clutching at the hand with the ring on it. Martha saw a small puff of smoke and then Donna had torn the ring from her finger. "Hot!" yelled Donna. "It burned me!" She sank down to her knees and the Doctor dropped to her side.
"Donna, Donna can you hear me?" He looked down at the smoldering and now silent ring, then up at Jack and Martha. "We have to get her back-- now."
"Oh my head," Donna moaned. The Doctor leaned over her, brushing his fingers across her forehead, his own brow tense, his breathing shallow.
Donna's eyes flickered open again. She drew back from the Doctor, confusion touched with fear crossed her face. "It's you," she muttered accusingly. "Kidnapped me... s'possed to be gettin' married..." Her voice was slurred, her eyes unfocused.
"What's happening to her?" Martha asked helplessly.
"She's adrift in her own memories," explained the Doctor. "It's her mind's last effort to protect her. It's the best I can do until I can get her back to the Tardis. Until... until I can get away from here." She thought she saw a slight shudder run across his shoulders and wondered again at the strain he must be under.
Donna had scooted herself back from him, looking around but clearly not taking in her surroundings.
"It's me Donna," he said gently reaching out a hand. She didn't take it.
"Doctor?"
"Yes," he said encouragingly. "Yes, it's me the Doctor. You've got to come with me now, I'm going to take you home."
"Doctor," she said, as if testing the name. "Doctor, you can stop now" Her voice came from far away, clearly remembering something. Then her eyes focused on him for the first time. "You... you killed them all. There was fire all around and... I could hear them screaming. And you just stood there."
The Doctor's jaw clenched but he only said, "that was a long time ago Donna. That was back on Earth, remember?" She didn't answer, but drew further away from him. The Doctor sighed and then got up to get the Wrist Strap, leaving Jack at her side.
She looked around uncertainly. This time Jack offered her a hand up and she took it. "Please," she said, "I want to go home."
The Doctor's back was to them, but Martha saw him tense again. Home was the last place he wanted to be.
Jack put an arm around Donna and the three of them joined the Doctor. He pressed a series of buttons on the strap, pausing to adjust something with his sonic screwdriver. Then, for the second time that day, they were enveloped in a bright blue-white light.
When the light faded, they were just outside the Tardis, only a few feet from where Martha had placed a call to the Doctor what seemed like years ago. It was just after sunset and the place was deserted.
"Well, I guess the bomb didn't go off-- that's something," commented Jack.
"I can hear them singing," murmured Donna, "they're singin' in my head." She turned to Jack, suddenly lucid. "It's so sad."
"Quickly," said the Doctor, "bring her inside." Jack took her other arm and the two of them half lead, half pushed her into the Tardis. They propped her up against a wall.
"You really out to think about some more furniture in here," said Jack. "Maybe a rug, some softer lighting..."
The Doctor froze, gave him a strange, searching look, then recovered himself. "Not my style," he said. "Not any more..." He moved quickly to the console and began his usual frantic dance around it, turning dials, pushing buttons, throwing glances at the monitor.
Jack shrugged and did his best to make Donna comfortable with his coat. She was quiet now, her eyes a little clearer.
"Hello there," said Jack.
She was almost smiling. "So this is what a girl has to do to get a little attention from you?" Her voice was weak, but she definitely knew where she was and who he was. She looked pasted Jack, turning serious again. "How is he?"
"Holding up," said Jack. "Worried about you," he added.
"He should be worried about himself," she said. She though for a minute, then looked Jack in the eyes. "I need to talk to him. Now, while I can... while I still remember."
Jack nodded and got up. The Doctor was still zipping around, almost frenzied. Drops of sweat were running down the side of his face, his usually proud hair matted with ash and sweat. Jack couldn't think of a time he'd seem the Doctor such a mess. He took a breath and then stepped forward, putting a restraining hand on the Doctor's shoulder. He came to a jarring halt and gave Jack such a furious look that he stepped back, hand falling at his side.
"Donna," said Jack, realizing that he was actually frightened. "Donna's asking for you." The Doctor didn't reply, just turned back to the console as if he were going to ignore the request. Jack tried again. "Doctor, go talk to her." Nothing. "You need to stop--" That got a reaction. For one second Jack thought the Doctor might actually hit him. Instead the Doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand, pinching his eyes closed, let out a breath, and then headed over to Donna.
She better know what to say to him thought Jack. Or we're going to be left with one very sick and broken Doctor.
The Doctor stood over her, hands in his pockets, face blank. Beneath that blankness, Donna knew, a storm was raging. Not an oncoming storm-- this storm was here, now. And if she didn't bring him out of it, it would sweep them all away.
He didn't seem to want to get near her; gone was their easy closeness of just a few hours ago. She tried not to be hurt by it. He wasn't even really seeing her, she realized. He was seeing everyone-- everyone he'd had to let go, or leave behind, or destroy. And not only that, he knew that she could see it all-- all the names, the places, birthdays, deathdays. There was no hiding behind a joke, or an adventure. There was no where to run.
But she wasn't there to judge him. How could anyone?
"Doctor," she ventured softly. He didn't blink, just starred past her. "Doctor!" her voice broke into a cough. "Look at me," she demanded. His gaze shifted a fraction. It's like talking to an angry teenager she thought. She pushed herself up so they were standing eye-to-eye.
"Look at me," she said again, softer. "You saved me. I'm alive." She let this sink in. "Even after you wipe all our time together-- the best of times-- I'll still be alive!" She took him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake, trying to catch his eyes. "And I forgive you. I know what has to be done and it's OK. I am going to be OK." She punctuated each word with another shake until he had to meet her eyes. "OK?"
He held her gaze for a few moments. She could feel tears starting to well up in her own just from seeing the depth of his loneliness, the strain of so much guilt. Then he nodded, giving in for just a moment, willing to admit just for a second that she understood more than anyone else in the universe. And she forgave him.
