Thank you to my followers and favouriters and readers and reviewers, you make this all worthwhile
I know- I've been slack- sorry.
Warning! There is useless ranting in the author's notes at the end after the chapter, feel free to take no notice of it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who- or we'd all be screwed
Donna woke up groaning, her head was pounding. She's had a little too much the night before and meaning a lot in saying a little. The night before was hazy in her mind. Not different to pretty much every other day of the past year she thought to herself still groaning. She was meant to be working today but she seriously couldn't care less. She closed her eyes and turned over in an attempt of sleep but her efforts were in vein when she heard a shout.
'Doctor!' the voice called. Come to think of it the voice was an exact replica of Donna's! Her eyes flung open and she looked around. She warily got up. Her head started throbbing her hand moving up to hold it and she couldn't walk in a straight line, though she was contemplating whether this was out of tiredness or last night's drunkenness, she stumbled to the window and leaned against the frame looking out it not seeing anything odd.
'Doctor!' The voice yelled again. This is when Donna noticed the voice was in her head. Well isn't that wizard Donna thought to herself. Hallucinating. She sighed now fully awake, but still affected by her hangover, she stumbles downstairs looking raggedy. Her ginger hair was knotty and looked like a
'Look what the cat dragged in,' Sylvia stated in seeing her daughter in her haggard state.
'Yeah yeah, ha ha,' Donna replied irritably as she switch on the kettle make tea.
~~~oOo~~~
The Doctor was wandering through 1950s New York. He had no destination in mind nor any plan on how long he'd spend there, just that he was consistently reminded of his companions. Rose would like that his thoughts would point out. Donna would certainly have something to say about that his mind consistently yelled. Martha would be there helping already he thought watching a mother pick up a child with a new graze on his knee. He missed his best friend- whom had to forget, he missed his girlfriend, although she would have adjusted to the clone and would barely spare him a thought by now, well, as he saw it at least. He didn't think about the girl he couldn't love as much but she was there, nagging in the back of his mind bringing him guilt with every thought of her. He didn't want another companion, all of them ended drastically, either like Donna- who had to forget, Rose, who was trapped in a parallel universe or Martha, who was one of the very few who just left under her own influence, but he still had ruined her life beforehand. Then there were some, a select few, who had died. But is it a select few? He thought to himself. Faces of many who had died flashed in his mind- Jenny, the daughter he almost had, Astrid- the girl he almost travelled with, Luke Rattigan- the man who had done a good thing at the end of his life, River Song- whoever she was she seemed important to him then she died, faces- so many faces, so much death all for him. How could he be trusted with a life? He sat on an old park bench and sighed. He looked in the direction of where the TARDIS was parked. He didn't want to go back, not quite yet. He watched a couple of children running around the soft green grass of the park reminding him of the children back in Gallifrey. 2.47 billion- that was how many there were before he ended it all. That number haunted his dreams, which were already nightmares, in the very little time he slept. He was almost afraid to close his eyes, every time, he was afraid all it would give him flashes and glimpses of the past, his past. His sad, terrible past. Many would say that he had saved so many, so much more than he had lost but, as every victory was his happiness, every loss weighed on his hearts. Underneath the façade of bravery and happiness sat a solemn, scared man haunted by the past.
The 10th can't help but press big threatening buttons! There's one right below this labelled review. Press it- in honour of the 10th Doctor (It might cheer him up a bit)! Please any feedback welcome- good or bad. Constructive criticism not only welcome but encouraged.