A piercing, anguished cry shot through the house. Donna sat up immediately, frightened and disoriented. She read the clock on the bedside table: 2:42. What on Earth could have made such a terrible noise so early in the morning?

Another cry wrenched its way into Donna's awareness. Her heart sank.

Not on Earth. Nothing on Earth could have made such a terrible noise.

"Doctor!" She jumped out of bed, bare feet running before they hit the carpet. She bolted out the door and into the next room, barging in without ceremony.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight in front of her. The Doctor lay curled in a ball at the foot of the bed, tangled in a mess of sheets. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he cried out again in his sleep. Donna quickly moved to the bed and sat by him, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him up into a sitting position.

"Doctor, wake up… please wake up, love… it's me, it's Donna… I'm here… shh…" She rubbed his back, muttering soothing words into his ear as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. "You were having a nightmare, love. Better now? Oh, come now…" The Doctor had woken up, and was crying. Heaving, painful sobs wracked his small body, and Donna held him tightly to her. He had buried his face in her shoulder, and her pyjamas were becoming damp with his tears. She didn't mind.

Donna shifted to a more comfortable position, still holding the Doctor close to her chest, and began to rock slowly back and forth, humming a melody she half remembered.

A light flicked on in the hallway outside. Donna looked up to see her grandfather framed in the doorway. Wilfred stared into the room, concern and surprise mixed on his features. The Doctor was never this weak, never this vulnerable…

'Is he all right?' Wilf mouthed silently. Donna nodded slightly. The way she and the Doctor were positioned, he was facing the back wall. He continued to weep, clinging to Donna and completely oblivious of the exchange happening over his shoulder.

Donna realized after some minutes that Wilf wasn't about to be reassured by a mere nod, especially with the Doctor in his current state. He continued to stand guard at the door as Donna held her alien gently. She rolled her eyes to herself. She had on her hands the two strongest, most protective men in the universe, and who was left to deal with both of them? Donna Noble, Super-Temp.

"How about some tea, love?" The words were directed to the Doctor, but she shot a meaningful look back toward Wilf, who nodded and headed back toward the kitchen.

Donna, with some small difficulty, helped the Doctor out of bed. He was more clumsy in this body than he had been before he had regenerated. Donna found it endearing.

"That's it, love… c'mere… let's just go into the lounge and have a sit, yeah?"

The Doctor sniffed and nodded, letting himself be led by his former companion. He was still crying, but making a visible effort to stop. This was silly, he chided himself. Time Lords don't cry. Time Lords are regal, Time Lords are elegant, and the most certainly do not cry.

Donna, as if reading his thoughts, produced a tissue and handed it to him. He took it reluctantly and blew his nose with as much dignity as he could muster (which, granted, was quite a bit for someone who had just been bawling their eyes out). He finished with the tissue, and held it back out to Donna between thumb and forefinger. Regally. Elegantly.

Donna raised an eyebrow, and discarded the tissue with some distaste. "Feeling better?"

"Of course," he sniffed. The Doctor raised his chin into the air, determined to show Donna that he was a Time Lord, and not some silly, crying, snot-nosed child. "I'm always all right."

"Oi!" said Donna, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't get all high and mighty with me, buster."

"I'm a Time Lord! We are all high and mighty." He sniffed again, looking for all the world like a pouting child. Donna held back a chuckle.

"Last I checked, people in their nighties don't get a say in the matter."

The Doctor looked down at his attire, and deflated immediately. She did have a point. Donna put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the couch, where she sat him down gently.

"Now, you just sit right here, and I'll get us a lovely cuppa. All right?"

The Doctor gave a nod, and Donna headed into the kitchen. Wilf accosted her almost instantly.

"Is he going to be all right?" He spoke in hushed tones, so the Doctor wouldn't hear him in the other room.

Donna sighed. "Yes, Gramps. He just had a nightmare, is all."

"Hm." Wilf grabbed the two fresh, steaming mugs of tea he had just finished preparing, and handed them to Donna, who took them gratefully. "You set him straight, you hear, Donna?"

"Yes, Gramps. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Donna."

Wilf snuck out of the kitchen quietly while Donna headed over to where the Gallifreyan sat toying sadly with his sonic screwdriver. She set down her tea, took the screwdriver with her free hand, and handed him his tea.

"Where did you have room for that in your pyjamas?" Donna looked at him quizzically. When he opened his mouth to answer, she put a finger up to it to silence him. "Nevermind, spaceman… I don't think I want to know."

The Doctor smirked. They drank their tea in silence for a few minutes.

"Doctor, I-"

"Donna-"

They both started at the same time, stopped, and grinned sheepishly at each other.

"You first," said Donna, glad that he was wanting to talk.

He looked down. "It's a silly question…" he trailed off.

"What, coming from you? All your questions are silly," she teased gently.

"I just… don't want to offend you."

"Just go for it, Spaceman," said Donna encouragingly.

"Well," he began, "ever since I got here I've been wondering… whatever happened to Shaun?"

Donna sucked in a breath. The tension was palpable. She looked down.

"Sorry!" The Doctor fumbled for words. "I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive topic… I knew I shouldn't have asked…" he berated himself.

"No, no… it's… fine. It's just… a tricky subject, you know?"

He shrugged, taking another sip of his tea.

Donna took a breath.

"Shaun and I… after a month or two, I realized it wasn't going to work. We got a winning lottery ticket, at our wedding. It was a gift, you see." The Doctor nodded sagely. He didn't bring up who it was that had given it to her. "And…" she shifted positions subtly, placing her mug on the end table beside her. "I suppose both of us went a little stir crazy, not having to work or anything. We just went mad, at least… I did, anyway. I guess I realized…" She blushed, and looked away.

"Realized what?"

"Nothing, it's silly."

"Donna," he chided gently. "You put up with my 'silly.'"

She gave him a tiny smile. "I guess I realized that he wasn't the person I wanted to be with. 'Course, at the time, I didn't realize who Mister Right was, I suppose…"

The Doctor looked at her expectantly. "What about now? Are you seeing anyone?"

She smirked. Daft alien.

"No… not in that sense."

They sat in silence for a few moments more.

"Donna, when you said you didn't realize who Mister Right was…"

"Yes?"

"Oh… nevermind. It's-"

"Don't you dare say it's silly."

He laughed, then, a genuine laugh. It had been so long since he and Donna had talked like this. His lovely, feisty Donna. How he had missed her. He looked into her eyes.

"Did you ever… realize who he was?"

Donna scrutinized him. His eyes were, in a very true sense, the windows to his soul. His very being was laid out before her, raw and fragile. She looked into his eyes, and she saw pain, yes, but also hope. Just a glimmer, but it was there. She gave him a warm smile and patted his hand.

"I've got a good idea, yeah."

"Care to share?"

She just smiled and took his now-empty mug from him. She grabbed hers as well, stood up, and headed for the kitchen.

"Let's see, I think we've got some jammy dodgers. Would you care for one?"

The Doctor perked up, delighted. "I adore jammy dodgers."