The engines of the TARDIS groaned as the Timelord dashed around the console. Flicking switches and twisting knobs, he ended with a dramatic flourish in front of his guest.
The old woman looked far from impressed. "Not that I don't appreciate the jail break – really, I do – but why am I here?"
"Don't you remember?" asked the Doctor carefully.
Donna nodded. It was slowly coming back, one minute at a time. A leak in the dam that stored her Timelord memories. The little things came first: the crunching of snow under her feet on the Ood planet, the cool metal of the Adipose necklace in her hand, the fiery heat of Pompeii. Somewhere in the background, there was a broader knowledge of each of their adventures; but something was wrong about them. It was more like remembering something she had read in a book than something she had lived.
"It's like bit and pieces all jumbled up inside my head," she said softly, an old frail hand reaching up to tap her temple. "But there's one thing I do remember, Doctor. I remember that this shouldn't be possible."
The Doctor leaned back against the console. "I've lowered the wall that blocks your memories, not all the way, but just enough. Your memories should come back slowly; first your experiences," the Doctor said with a sigh, "and then mine."
Donna's expression pinched with understanding. "But at some point all the memories will be back. And it'll be too much." The Doctor's eyes wandered to the floor. "And then I die."
A silence echoed in the TARDIS.
"But not right away," the Doctor said finally, his arms crossed.
"How long do I have?" The question was simple. There was no sass, no cheek. It was an honest, tender question.
"I don't know," the Timelord replied. "I really don't. A minute, an hour, a day. I can't even guess."
"But why?"
"Because I made you a promise, Donna, a promise you don't remember. But I made it, and I intend to keep it."
The woman finally smiled. "Alright, then. Where are we? When have we landed?"
The Doctor's head snapped up. "One last trip?" he asked, daring to hope.
She nodded. "One last trip."
Carefully, he helped her up from the chair. When she was on her feet, the Timelord grabbed his jacket and sprinted to the doors. "Ready?" Before she could answer, the Doctor slipped outside. Hobbling down the ramp, the former ginger poked her head out the door.
"Nineteen-thirty-two, if I've landed us correctly," he announced, turning in a dramatic circle. "Come on, then."
"Doctor!" Donna hissed from the TARDIS. "I'm in my nightdress!"
"And you look lovely," the Doctor replied with a small smile, recalling the last time he had told her that. It had been Christmas, and she had been in her wedding gown...
There was a small cough. "Excuse me."
Both heads turned. They had landed in some sort of alley, amid several waste bins and disturbed crows. A man had just stepped out of the door imbedded into the right brick wall.
"Sorry, hello," began the Doctor with a smile as Donna stepped out of the TARDIS. There was a flash of psychic paper. "I'm the Doctor and this is Donna."
The man stiffened. "Your majesties," he replied reverently. "I had no idea our show would be graced with your presence."
"Show?" asked Donna, stepping next to the Doctor.
"The special showing of my film, your majesty," the man explained. "I am Charles Chaplin, the humble actor and director."
"And, um, which movie would this be?" asked the Doctor. Donna's eyes had gone wide and she was attempting to form a coherent sentence.
"A Woman of Paris," Chaplin replied dutifully. The Doctor frowned. He was off by a decade.
"You're Charlie Chaplin," Donna finally managed.
"Yes, your ladyship," he said with a short bow.
Donna turned to the Doctor. "But he's CharlieChaplin!"
"Yes, sorry, you'll have to excuse the Queen," the Doctor said easily, squeezing Donna's shoulder. "Anyway, we were wondering if we could perhaps get an autograph?"
"It would be my honor," said the man eagerly, taking a pen from his pocket. The Doctor patted his coat and finally withdrew what appeared to be a page of a book.
"Would you mind signing this?"
When the actor had finished with an elaborate squiggle, the Doctor handed it to Donna. "Thank you, truly, for everything," he added.
"Will you be coming for the show?" Chaplin asked, capping his pen.
"Um, yeah, as soon as we drop off our things," the Doctor muttered vaguely, gesturing to the TARDIS.
"Well, then I shall see you inside. I'm afraid they will be looking for me." He extended his hand to the Doctor, who shook it briefly. "The pleasure is all mine." Turning to Donna, he added, "And Queen Donna, it is a delight." Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around him.
"Donna," reminded the Doctor gently.
"Sorry," the woman said, removing herself from the shocked actor.
"No apologies, my Lady. How many can say they were hugged by royalty?" he asked with a laugh. Shaking his head and still chuckling, he bowed once more and returned into the building.
The Doctor steered his friend back to the TARDIS. "But that was Charlie Chaplin!" she kept saying.
Once inside, the Doctor shrugged off his coat and turned to the console. "Ready for the second leg?"
Settling herself once more in the chair, the woman frowned. "I thought this was one last trip."
"Well, it is, but this is the second part," explained the Doctor, pulling a few levers.
Donna placed a hand to her forehead. "Better make it quick, Spaceman." There was a dull throbbing behind her eyes, like she was starting to get a headache.
The Doctor's face was tight with grief. "I know."
"Honestly, Doctor, this is ridiculous."
The Doctor led her out of the TARDIS, hands over her eyes. "But it's worth it, I promise." There was soft grass under her slippers that tickled her exposed ankles. The air smelled vaguely of citrus.
"Can I open my eyes?"
"Alright, go ahead."
For a moment Donna Noble blinked in the sunlight. She looked down first and took in the sight of purple grass. It was spotted with the occasional yellow daisy and rolled on forever. Her eyes swept across the skyline, taking in the greenish sky and silver stars. There was a huge mountain range before them which looked oddly Earth-like.
"Okay, where are we?" Donna asked, turning in a slow circle.
"You'll see. I've timed this perfectly. Look at the mountains. Okay, in twenty seconds, the greatest solar flare in a century is going to sweep through this valley and trigger the breeze." The Doctor grinned, checking his watch. He looked like some sort of wonky tourist with a Polaroid slung around his neck. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the ticking hands, when suddenly –
A light breeze blew past them, increasing the scent of oranges. And in front of them, swaying in the wind: Mountains.
As if the entire range was made of paper or Jell-o or streamers, the solid masses of rock blew back and forth in the current of the breeze.
"Felspoon," Donna whispered.
A small alarm went off in the Doctor's mind; his memories were beginning to leak into her consciousness. Forcing a smile onto his face, the Timelord grabbed his camera and turned his back to the mountains. "Come on, Donna, one for the photo albums!" Together, they squeezed into frame with the mountains bent over behind them. There was a soft click as the Doctor pressed the button. A blank photo printed out the bottom. "Hold that and wait for it to dry," he said, placing the snapshot in Donna's wizened hand.
Stooping, he plucked a daisy from the grass. Turning around to present it to his companion, he found her leaning heavily against the TARDIS. Both his hearts plummeted. "Donna?"
"Time to go home, I think," she said softly, breathing heavily. Tucking the daisy behind her ear, the Doctor scooped her up and carried her back to her chair in the console room. She clutched the autograph and the still-blank snapshot while he piloted.
They sat quietly together, Donna lying in her bed and the Doctor occupying the chair next to her. Her breathing was heavy and she wouldn't let go of her souvenirs.
"See, funny thing is, Doctor, I can remember everything now. But I still don't remember any promise." Her voice was faint and her eyes were closed.
He remained silent.
"I was gonna stay with you. Forever. Didn't really work out either time," she continued to murmur.
"Oh, Donna," the Doctor replied in the same soft tone, "you never really left."
The managed to get a small smile out of her, just the tiniest twitch of the corners of her mouth. "Everyone's gone now. Shaun's gone. Gramps. Mum. But me, I kept on waiting for something. I just couldn't remember what." There was a short silence before she added, "I think I was waiting for you. To say goodbye."
Slowly, the Doctor rose from his seat. Carefully, he took her hand in his own. "Oh, Donna Noble. I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting." There was a beat of silence. "Say hello to Wilf for me. And your mum."
He squeezed her hand softly, she smiled, and then the machines connected to her began to scream. The Doctor silenced them with his sonic before reaching down to take the items from her hands.
The first is a page of an Agatha Christie book. One side was covered in text and scribbled on with looping handwriting that read, COPYRIGHT DONNA NOBLE. The other side was a quick note from Charlie Chaplin, reading, To Queen Donna, with my best regards. Always yours, Charlie. In his other hand, the snapshot had finally developed. It was mainly dominated by their faces, with the slightest hint of alien sky in the background. He left the daisy with Donna.
Stepping into the TARDIS, the Doctor tiredly checked his watch. As per the history books, Donna Temple-Noble had died at 8:26 PM on the twenty-third of July.