Chapter 5: Truth and Lies

The Doctor was glad Donna was able to stave off any questioning, when they got to the reception hall and found that it was full of people from the wedding party who had witnessed the event of Donna's disappearance, (yet had not thought, apparently, that it was enough of an event to ruin a perfectly good chance to party—humans) by crying. It was sort of unoriginal, but quite clever in her way—Donna apparently had some experience with avoiding any trouble by this tactic. And there were a lot of people who had wanted to know—Donna must have been quite overwhelmed, dealing with all of that, but she handled herself well.

The party hadn't been so bad, once everyone had stopped worrying. It was actually quite fun, as he watched it from afar. Seeing all of the people dancing, the Doctor was amused by their antics, but he couldn't forget why he was here as he asked to borrow a cellphone and look up H.C. Clements. He got all of the information he needed, and then some-Torchwood. Torchwood, that hated name that haunted him almost as much as Bad Wolf had.

Donna was involved with them, just like Rose was-another young woman lost to the force that had taken control of everything, trying to find out more about aliens, and destroy him as well. They had nearly destroyed him, yes, but no—he would not let them get involved this time. He would stand, and fight—fight what, exactly? Torchwood? Had Torchwood not been destroyed in the Battle of Canary Wharf? His enemy was not Torchwood this time, much as he would like to think—there was something else here; something far more sinister than that. Something…not of this Earth, perhaps. He had to think things through, decide if he wanted to get involved in another fight—for it would be a fight, there was no doubt about that. Whatever had taken control of H.C. Clements after Torchwood had left was bound to be powerful…

He looked at the faces in the crowd, examining them, even Donna—trying to decide if any of them were his actual enemy, his potential adversary. Nerys? Nope, even though Donna had talked about her, she wasn't that bad—was she? Lance and Donna—hmm, he had to think about that one a bit. He looked about and spotted a woman who reminded him of Rose; the ghost of the woman he had-no, he did not even want to think about it.

He did not want to think—his heart was his, and his alone, and he could not forget her, but she was gone, gone far away where he could not reach her, could not touch her, could not even say—he did not want to think about it. He would forget her, he would try—and concentrate on what had to be done here. He would do what had to be done, and no more—no more Torchwood, no more Rose…

He spotted the cameraman, and knew that he had his first clue—his first piece of real solid evidence that he could use. He had asked some of the people here at the party about everything they could remember about what they had seen, but their descriptions had been vague and various enough that he just had to see for himself what had really happened—maybe the cameraman had caught it on tape…the Doctor saw it. He knew what it was, and recognized the particles—as Donna was screaming, she had been transported—by Huon particles. The type of particles—uh oh.

Here come the Robot Santas again…

Donna couldn't stand being put on trial by all of those people, especially her mother—her mother was the worst of that lot, always being critical of everything she did. Even when she had announced that she was going to get married to Lance, her mother Sylvia had gotten excited, but then wanted to know everything about Lance, and whether or not he had good money, and how they were ever going to afford to pay for the reception and the wedding. Sylvia had gotten ahead of herself even before Donna had quite recovered from the engagement!

She had to cry just to deal with that now. At least it got Lance's attention; he was hanging around Nerys way too much these days, hanging on her literally. The way he had been dancing with her when she walked in, she almost thought—never mind, Lance would never do a thing like that. He loved her, didn't he? Ah, well, at least they were going to get married—once they had a chance to do things over properly.

"This wedding has been a nightmare," Donna whispered to Lance.

"You said it." He said, groaning to himself and laughing as well while she giggled. Lance always had a way of saying things that made her melt like butter in his hands.

Donna loved to dance—it was one of the few forms of exercise she ever got. Except for walking and, well, the occasional trip to the gym for some bicycle-riding and yoga practice, although she never got very far with the bicycling and got all twisted up in knots with yoga. Yoga was fun, though, when she wasn't bending so much.

She had called her grandpa just a few minutes ago, telling him that she was all right. "You had me so scared, Donna my pet." He said. "I had all of these calls from your mum, and then I called—where were you?"

"Never mind that, gramps." She said, trying to reassure herself that she was doing the right thing, lying to him—she couldn't tell him the truth about where she had been. "You just get some rest, and don't worry about me. I'll be home soon, after the party."

She said that, and yet couldn't believe—was it really over? She thought to herself. The Doctor had put that ring—oh, lord, she was going to have a hell of a time trying to explain that to Lance—on her finger, to 'bio-damp' her—energy, or whatever, so that the Robot Santas wouldn't find her. Maybe it really was over; she could pray—suddenly, the Doctor was running right past her again, and she turned her head around to watch him go.

"Is something wrong?" Lance asked, looking concerned.

"No, it's nothing," Donna said, yet the look on the Doctor's face—pure terror and fear and anger—just like when she was watching him try to save her…she knew it was not over yet.

Donna inhaled, trying to calm herself down, yet it was not over—she glowed, she held her hand up and it glowed a little.

"Donna?" Lance asked.

"I'm in trouble." She said. As the Doctor called her name, running up to her, she managed to cool herself and stop the glow just before he reached her. She did not know she could do that.

She had been—on the verge of glowing just before—when she had been in that taxi cab, and knew that she was being kidnapped, and then—when the Doctor had been trying to save her…she had nearly glowed on those occasions, but had calmed herself in time. Yoga—blame yoga practice, breathe in and out. Of course, she had not been so calm, more like 'out of control' when she had been going down the aisle; maybe that was-? Don't be so ridiculous, Donna, she thought to herself; Maybe it has absolutely nothing to do with that.

Her mum's voice was always her 'voice of reason' in her own mind. It always seemed to reassure her that she was completely and totally wrong—about everything.

As the ornaments floated, the Doctor and Donna watched—the Doctor thinking to himself that maybe this was the weirdest, strangest thing he had ever seen just before almost certain death. Of course, he had 'almost died' so many times before that—well, floating ornament balls, okay, perhaps not at the top of the weirdest, strangest moments list—but it was certainly surreal. All of those people, staring up in awe, not horror—he had to think, in some part of himself, that humans were somewhat like sheep or cows being led to the slaughter. Pretty lights and sparkle—look out, ma'am, that ball is going to blast your head!

He hated being the smartest, most experienced being in the room at times—he had more of a clue about what was going to happen next than other people did at times. He had to duck once or twice, getting himself out of the way of the explosions, and lost track of Donna—he had to find her. It was like a battlefield in here, and all of the people—screaming and yelling when they were running, or being hurled through the air after getting blasted, then moaning and groaning whenever they hit the floor…it was a nightmare. A nightmare of the Time War.

Donna was nowhere in sight, but—hey, speakers-and Robot Santas pointing their horns at him; he just had to get their attention. It was time he 'blasted' them like they had blasted these people.

He got the remote control, and the robot head—just enough he needed…to discover the source. And he picked up a couple of ornament balls that had not exploded for safe keeping—just in case.

Donna was trying to talk to him about saving people, but he was not listening to her—he had to 'think of the big picture' and save the earth, save Donna if it came right down to it. He had to think about what they needed to do to survive. And what seemed most reasonable, most understandable for him to do was not what stressed Donna out. He could not be concerned for other people who were mere casualties—he had to fight the enemy.

Wherever he went, across time and space, he held his own ground wherever he determined was right. If he chose a side, in a fight or in a debate, that was where he stood unless he found out there was a fault. Usually, there was no fault—no way to make him believe that he stood on any side except the right side. Of course, he wasn't always perfect when it came to his decisions about what to do next, but he did not let himself get discouraged, and even faced the consequences of his actions sometimes.

In a crowd of cheering people, in the face of the High Council of Time Lords sentencing him to exile—he stood, and faced any trouble, any danger he saw as a threat.

He told Lance and Donna that he needed a lift to H.C. Clements, but more than that—he needed to find out the truth.

Donna had to play dumb again when he mentioned the Battle of Canary Wharf; she couldn't stand it, not being able to reveal herself to the Doctor, the full truth of what she was doing. She thought she was lying very badly when she mentioned 'being in Spain' and 'scubba-diving' while all of this was happening. Lance looked at her like he could not even believe what she was saying. But apparently the Doctor believed her, and she got away with it—but someday, the Doctor would find out the truth of what she was doing. And she could not lie forever—no matter how good she was at it.

The Doctor pushed Lance to the side, totally ignoring him as he went on explaining what was going on, and Donna glanced over at Lance, hoping he was all right. Lance seemed to shrug it off, not much bothered by what was going on after what had happened at the reception hall. She hoped he was not 'freaking out' inside himself like she was outside.

The Doctor told her the truth about what was affecting her—'Who-on particles' or something like that—and Donna realized this was serious by the way the Doctor was telling her this fact. Although he seemed to be reaching for straws, using the mug and pencil to show her and the Who-on particles being 'magnetized' to the Tardis—she could not believe this was happening. 4-H? It was all just…what was happening here?

But the Doctor was on top of things. He was—marvelous, far more marvelous than Lance was being right now. But—she could not believe this, she was going with him, she was going with him to make sure that she would be there when he made the discovery that would save her life-as he was bound to do. He was important, and she would protect him. And Lance had to go as well—she needed him, by her side, and she had to know just how well did he measure up opposed to the Doctor?

Of course, the two of them got along well, boys being boys complaining about her—Oi! She was tired of these complaints; she had to behave sometimes, but other times—she felt like lashing out at everybody.

She had gotten used to things, the strangeness of this situation, ever since the TARDIS flew; she knew that things would never be the same, but she had hoped—maybe it would change. Maybe it could be 'normal' again. But normal no more—she was changing as well…at least Lance was with her. And the Doctor. She could get through this with these two men at her side.

She had to think of her mum at that moment, standing alone at the party, and her father standing off to the side—she had wanted to help these people. But the Doctor had only wanted to help himself, it seemed, solve the problem—he couldn't get it through his head, it seemed, that there were people who had gotten hurt at the party. What type of Doctor was he?

They hit the subbasement floor, and stepped out—she looked around, shocked and scared that all of this had been down below, beneath the place where she worked—how did all of this get down here? What was all of this for? And why—why wasn't she losing her mind? Strange things were getting real and natural for her.

The Doctor, however, went straight for—"Oh, you have got to be joking me." She said. "What sort of—evil, nefarious thing would have Segways all the way down here, underneath-"

"Do you know how to operate these things?" The Doctor asked her.

"I haven't got a clue-" She said.

"Here, let me, I took a class once on how to operate a Segway." Lance said, showing the Doctor the controls. Donna smiled, glad for once that her fiancé had a chance to show off to the space boy. The Doctor, meanwhile, seemed most impressed by Lance's knowledge.

Within minutes, they were shuttling off, and laughing together, and Donna couldn't help saying, "You are a bundle of laughs, straw man!" to the Doctor.

"You are, too!" He said.

"Oi!" She cried in between the laughter.

Once they got off the Segways, the Doctor told her, "Couldn't get rid of you if I tried," smiling just before he went up the ladder.

"Wait!" Donna called.

"What?" The Doctor said, coming back down.

"I am—one of six." She said. "Well, technically, I am #2." She said, putting up two fingers.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"Oh, never mind that, just go!" She said.

The Doctor went up, shaking his head. Lance stared at her.

"Donna, what was-"

"Never mind, Lance." She said, sighing. "I had no clue what I was doing, saying that, but—I hope it just makes me feel better." She shook her head, and then looked up at the Doctor's posterior as he climbed, wondering what he might see.

She could trust the Doctor to tell her the truth, even if it was bad. Later on, when she asked why his people had gotten rid of 'Who-on' particles, he told her "Because they were deadly," in all seriousness. But the truth about Lance-everything he had ever told her was all lies.