Hello-I had to get this done with quickly; it had me quite excited, you know. I checked out 'Runaway Bride', made sure I had it straight-this first scene is always a classic scene; when Donna and the Doctor first met each other.

I added some lines of dialogue, in between the part where the credits would run, mostly because I felt like I could. Hopefully this is just the start of veering off course-I have some ideas for how things might change, or I might put in/add more 'off-canon' stuff in the future, but for now, mostly about the Doctor (and how he sees Donna) viewing and coping with the situation.

Enjoy. ;)

The New Arrival

The Doctor covered his eyes, both trying to wipe away his tears and rub his forehead. He was exasperated with himself, and trying to get to grips with everything that had just happened-it had been a long day. And he had ruined it, or something like that.

Getting in touch with a supernova waiting to happen had taken a lot of time, scurrying back and forth between galaxies, choosing the right star that would not cause too much damage if it was hurried along—he could have been quicker about it, yeah, but he would have risked too much.

He had not slept much the night before-if at all-after what had happened yesterday; with Rose gone into the void, into the other universe if he had seen it right. Perhaps he had worried most of all that he had been seeing things-that he had actually seen Rose fall into the void, and had convinced himself otherwise.

In fact, he could not think if he had eaten anything at all recently; he was hungry and thirsty, that much he knew. And not even seeing Rose could staunch his hunger and thirst when he could not touch her.

He just wiped off as much of his pain and suffering as he could, inhaled, and then went back to work-or a semblance of work-looking around at his TARDIS; hoping that getting back into the routine might settle things down. He had to see that he had not ruined anything, amplifying the signal to reach Rose in a more 'solid' form-ha, he might as well have kept it at the 'ghost' setting. Maybe that would have let him talk a little bit more, if he had kept it at low power, but no, it was the crack-the crack that had let him seep through; the cracks were all closing, all sealed, and that was the last one.

The last one; wasn't there-he looked up. The emptiness had been disturbed. He had been alone, all alone in that great big room with the blue-green lights, but then-the color had changed.

And he was not alone.

A golden glow had filled the room-and the room had changed. It was still the same room, but now brighter, more visible-as if the darkness of night had been lifted away. It was an island submerged in the sea, risen to the surface of sunlight.

A wedding dress-a lady in white; he could not help staring, his sadness temporarily gone away as he was confused. "What?" She turned around—a lady in white with red hair and a big veil, not too bad looking, but she looked confused and shocked as well. "What?" He said again.

"Who are you?" She said in a London accent-London accent?

"But-"

"Where am I?" She continued.

"What?"

"What the hell is this place?" She shouted.

"What?" He said again-it was all he could do, he couldn't think, it was just-impossible, just impossible...

"Stop talking like that!" She yelled. She was scared, he could tell, but fear-fear made you fight or flee, and she was fighting-with her words.

"Wh-" He stopped himself before he said another word, knowing that she was going to slap him before too long if he kept up like this.

"What the hell is this place," She muttered, this time a little bit softer now as she looked around and got her bearing, trying to figure out-"What's that-thing?" She said, pointing at the console, and reaching out—

"No no!" He shouted, lunging forward to try and block her. "Please don't touch that!" He said as she flinched away from him.

"Get your hands off me, you-stick figure!" She said.

"Yes, ma'am," He said, sighing to himself. "Just promise me you won't do that again."

"All right, I won't, but you—you've got some explaining to do." She insisted.

"Okay, okay, okay," He said, trying to breathe again now that he was trying to settle himself down. But he was still trying to deny her existence, even though she was still standing there right in front of him-as big as life, and all in white, and he was talking to her as well as she was talking to him; was he dreaming this?

What a nightmare-denial was the first stage of grief, he knew, but it was also the first stage of dealing with any impossible situation, as he had soon figured out years ago. He was trying to deny what had just happened, but denying it got him nowhere-here he was, and here she was; now how did this sort of thing happen?

He was getting scared-it was all too much, just too much for him to handle after the last few days-couldn't a man just mourn in peace? Couldn't he just have five seconds-five seconds-without somebody turning up (in his TARDIS, no less) and wanting help, or an explanation? He had to get her out of here.

Meanwhile, she was trying to deal with this situation by shouting-and being 'demanding'; that got her nowhere either. She couldn't believe him, no matter what he tried to say-she just wouldn't listen to him and let him explain.

She was getting angry, and-being a real bride, she was turning into one of those bad, angry Godzilla brides-calling him Dumbo! Dumbo was not very nice name to call him; he might have a big nose, and big ears, but-forget it, forget it, this woman was not Rose.

This woman could never be Rose, or replace her in his heart. He had to get rid of her, and figure things out for himself. He was running around the console, trying to escape her and this situation as he checked the controls, making sure that they were ready to return back to Earth.

This woman had already figured things out-or thought she had. She accused him of kidnapping and drugging her, and threatened to sue him-was that all these people thought about when they saw things, or experienced things out of the norm? That they had been drugged?

He needed sleep. Tired from all of the nightmares he had of Rose falling and falling, and then he had worked all day long trying to find the perfect dying star-it was just too much for him.

It was all too much for her as well, but she was trying to think things through like a normal human of the 21st century would do. She was human-or seemed to be, at any rate; her behavior was appalling, and she was trying to act rational, but she could not be completely rational in this situation when she believed only what she wanted to believe, and was getting emotional.

She was crying-or on the verge of crying-blathering on about this and that while he was trying to sort things out; and he felt like crying too, but not yet, at any rate. She seemed to be out of control—unable to control things, okay, so this situation definitely was not created by her; not deliberately anyway.

And he was going to have to face—she was heading for the door; the door of impossible things for her. He tried to stop her, but then she opened it up-and she was speechless; speechless for the first time since she had arrived on broad his ship. Had it only been two minutes since she had first arrived, and spoke? Felt like an eternity to him.

And now she was looking at eternity for her. He stood there, and let her soak it all in; the scene was indescribable. The heart of a supernova was a beautiful sight for those that saw it-one of the most unforgettable ever.

He still remembered the first time that he had seen a supernova-many years ago...all of her words were gone; a blessing. How could she believe this, except to think: this is real. This is-space.

He had chosen this star because it was far enough from any inhabited planets, and didn't seem to have any effect on any neighboring regions—just a pretty sight exploding unseen, releasing all of this pent-up energy that nobody would use or miss. He just had to use it for himself.

It must seem so strange to her, what she saw, and frightened her even more by what she had to come to grips with-and so he decided to try and explain things for her, or as much as he possibly could; just to make it easier on her.

Nobody would have explained things for him, though. He just had to figure it all out on his own, starting when he was just a young lad-staring into the heart of the Time Vortex.

She asked him pretty reasonable questions, even though words did not help her at all, and he introduced himself, and he finally got her name-Donna. A lovely name for a-well, not so lovely person, but he had to grant that he had caught her at a bad moment.

He asked if she was human, just to make sure he was correct in his assumption, and—well, she found out that he wasn't; took that pretty well, considering where they were. He tried to examine her, tossing aside one theory after another with a closer look, but then-she slapped him! Apparently she had dealt enough with his nonsense, and he had invaded her personal space; why was he always the one getting slapped? He had

"Get me to the church!" She shouted.

"On time," He sang softly under his breath. "Yes ma'am," He added as he went over to the controls.

Soon they were off-gone from that part of space and time where a new star would form in about several hundred million years.

Thank you for reading-and please review; I would like to know more about what you enjoy, and if there are people reading who are interested in this.