At first there was just light, moving light, and Donna floated as if everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Then there was sound, a thrumming that ran violently through her body. Her mind felt raw and unshielded as a cacophony of sensation flooded into her. And screaming, she could hear a woman screaming.

Then all at once her other senses kicked in; she could feel pain as her own voice went hoarse and the screaming ceased. Underneath her body the hard grating felt cold and made her bones ache, all around her the unforgiving twine cut into her skin.

Through watering eyes she realized the moving green light was that of the console column, pumping organically in concert with the noise that filled her mind to the point of insanity: the song of the TARDIS. The comforting blanket of the Doctor's mind had been ripped from hers and the rawness of sensation was now unbearable.

She fought and bucked against the ropes and the solid body of the Doctor, which had landed half on top of her, blindly trying to push him away. She felt his hands on her face holding her head still.

"Donna…shh…Donna, please calm down, you are hurting yourself." His face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her ear.

She croaked out a shriek as she felt him press her down on the hard metal of the floor and she fought harder, her weakened limbs flailing. He gripped her head tighter and pressed his forehead to hers, keeping her still. Then suddenly, the Doctor's mind was surrounding her, wrapping her up inside him, buffering the ferocity of energy that was sight and sound and imagery and things she had no concept for, the whirling of a consciousness so different from her own; so alien.

Her screams faded to whimpers and she went limp underneath him, her voice cracking as she gulped air into her burning lungs.

"Shhh… Donna, it's going to be okay, you are safe in the TARDIS. Donna, please just calm down, it will be alright." His tone was fraught with fear, even though he was obviously trying to be soothing.

Now, within the cocoon of his protection, the ship felt like it was merely humming to her and the lights had dimmed to a low light that was easier for her blinking eyes. The Doctor's voice was everywhere until Donna no longer knew if she was hearing it through her ears or in her mind.

A painful tightness formed in her chest and her vision began to tunnel into darkness.

"Just relax love, you are safe… Listen, can you hear her? She is singing to you."

Her arms had fallen uselessly to her sides but her fingertips gripped the railings underneath her as she felt his hand move over her left breast covering her heart. She closed her eyes as panic threatened to storm through her mind again.

His voice lowered, becoming hypnotic. "Donna. Listen to me. Relax. Safe now, you are safe. Listen to her, she is happy you are back, she has missed you."

She lacked the control to overcome her instinct to fight, but had no more strength to resist him. Slowly he moved from on top of her to lie beside her, his face next to hers, anchoring her with the commanding tone in which he spoke.

"Focus on me. Listen to her sing for you, Donna. Just breathe now, slow and steady." She was a fly caught in the amber of his voice, trapping her, stilling her struggle, steadying her panicked mind.

He began to hum in time with the TARDIS. One hand was still on her chest over her heart, the other cupped the side of her face. Donna tried to concentrate on the melody, and the humming underneath that seemed to paralyze the encroaching hysteria, yet brought so many shades of memories to the surface, the feelings of adventure, of the unknown, and of coming home again, to safety.

"I'm sorry, Donna, I'm so sorry, I had to jump us out of there, I had no time, I didn't think, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

The pain in his voice moved her but when she tried to speak she found she couldn't, and could barely make out his soft words over the wild beating of her heart. The cord cut into her skin and metal the grating dug into her bones. She tried to whisper again but only managed a low moan. He put both his hands to her head for a few moments more until she found herself back in that almost floating place.

"Donna, you are still very ill, your heart has had too much strain, I need you to just relax, I am going to take you to the infirmary to see if we can slow your heart down."

She felt his cool hands leave her face and heard a buzzing sound that she dimly recognized as his screwdriver. The tightness of the twine binding them loosened and she breathed easier as their bodies separated.

Without his hands at her temples she could feel herself spiral down, and she scarcely registered as the Doctor moved away a few feet. As if watching him from outside herself, she could sense him hitting the preset course buttons on the console and feel the ship move underneath her, the whirring hum of movement joining in the song in her mind, before he was back at her side.

She was mostly free of the rope now, but when she tried to sit up her body wouldn't cooperate. She swallowed rising panic and then felt a touch on her shoulder. The Doctor moved until his face was over hers and she could see his eyes, troubled but warm, then he slid one arm carefully around her and the other under her legs.

Despite his tenderness, her surroundings spun around her as he lifted her up in his arms. Somehow into her light-headed drifting, she realized her legs were bare and she clumsily tried to pull her dress down.

"Shh, it's okay, it's just a little bit torn, we'll get you a blanket in just a moment, you're okay, I've got you," the Doctor consoled her softly, and held her body closer against his own.

She turned her cheek against the Doctor's chest in surrender, seeking the beating of his hearts against her own, fuzzily thinking that for once her single heart was beating faster than his two combined.

The next thing Donna knew, she was in the infirmary and the Doctor was leaning over her, smoothing down her dress as he carefully removed remnants of twine from her body and clothing. The medical bed sheets felt starchy against her legs and she managed to look down and see a large rip in the fabric of her smock and angry red scratches standing out against her almost translucent skin that she didn't remember being there before. She was mesmerized by a small drop of blood seeping out of one of the cuts.

"That's where they grabbed at you just before we got out of there," he murmured, and she turned to see an apology in his eyes. He was watching her closely even as his hands worked. "But we are safe now, spinning in the vortex, we did it Donna, we're safe. I got you back."

She was too exhausted to do anything but stare at him as he smiled shakily down at her, and for a moment she was suspended under his gaze. She jumped when monitors suddenly began beeping alarmingly. The Doctor's eyes traveled fast over the read-outs and he produced his glasses from nowhere, pushing them on quickly.

"M fine," she mumbled barely above a whisper.

He ran his hand through his hair a few times. "No. You aren't. The journey with the vortex manipulator took a toll on your already overtaxed body. I think I can help, but it would be easier if I can put you to sleep…"

"No!" the words tumbled out of her mouth without thinking. "I am fine…."

She tried to push herself off of the bed but the Doctor held her down gently as she fought uselessly against him.

"Donna, please calm down." She could hear the rising panic in his tone. "Your body can't take much more…" The unbridled fear she heard in his voice stilled her. She looked at him closely, noting the tension in his eyes and the blood on his shirt. Blood? She looked down at her hands and realized the half-healed cuts had begun to bleed again.

"I might ineed/i to put you to sleep." His eyes were back on the monitors, and he seemed to mostly be talking to himself, strain showing in the tightness around his eyes and the tension in his jaw. Her stomach dropped at the idea of losing consciousness again, when she was already teetering on the edge of control.

"No."

"You are home, Donna, you are safe here. I need to infuse something to protect and strengthen your heart, it cannot heal on its own, you have been through Itoo/i much. Let me help you, please. I can do this, I can bring you back to me, I can make you whole, I can fix this."

He laid her back down and pushed the heels of his hands against his forehead, appearing overcome, and she wondered dimly if he was trying to convince her, or himself.

"Please," he gulped.

Donna got the distinct impression this was her last chance to say yes, to show her trust in him, before he went ahead and did it anyway.

When he dropped his hands from his face and looked at her she nodded quickly before she could change her mind. He fiddled with the tubes and buttons then brought his hands to her face, but she shook her head, panic setting in.

He moved one hand to stroke her hair instead and sat down heavily beside her bed. His other hand came to her throat and he spoke softly.

"Okay, I know you are scared, I'm just going to talk you through what I am doing, just let me take care of you. Right now we have lots of oxygen pumping around you, and the biggest concern is what is called supraventricular tachycardia, in other words, your heart is too fast. I am going to gently massage the vagal nerve…"

His fingertips settled on her throat, a light touch at first, and then firmer. It was the strangest feeling, but before she could react to the tickly pressure, Donna felt dazed, like she was only half-present.

"The vagal nerve sends messages to your heart, and this way I can try to bring your heart rhythm back under control and in sync with your breathing while the medicine goes through your blood stream and endocrine system to do its work."

She blinked sleepily as he continued to talk to her, mesmerizing her with his soft voice and delicate caresses on her cheek as his other hand worked on her throat.

"You are in shock, Donna, when we jumped and became telepathically disconnected it left you vulnerable, too open, and on a neurological level that magnified the effects from the vortex manipulator. Bodies aren't meant to time travel without protection."

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes moving back and forth between the monitors as his fingers slowed. "But then, without our mental connection your heart would have given out, so…"

As he spoke his fingers drifted higher, resting on her cheekbone and she stared up at him.

"I won't lose you again, Donna. You are home now, I will take care of you, even if you fight me, I will make this better, I promise." The pads of his fingers stroked her cheek as he spoke.

Then she was floating again, the insistent beep from the monitor the last thing she heard as the world closed in around her.

Time was now measured for the Doctor by the seeping drips of medicine that flowed into Donna's still body. The chair he had been sitting in all night long creaked a little as he leaned over to check on the infusion, then looked down at her slowly healing body, he couldn't keep his eyes off her for longer than a second or two. It would take a long time to get her back to normal, but he was finally satisfied that she was out of danger. He pulled his glasses off and fiddled with them, the earpieces rough with the bite marks he had left on them waiting for her to wake up, before glancing at her again.

Watching her lying there, tucked under blankets, the Doctor felt glad her violent shivering had finally stopped. His eyes traveled up her body from the soft rise and fall of her chest, past the too-sharp jut of her collarbones to the rapid flutter of her heartbeat under the almost translucent skin of her throat. Blue veins were too prominent under her bruised jaw, and tiny freckles were in sharp relief on her too-pale cheeks. She looked so peaceful now; the only sign of his "old" Donna was the vibrant autumn hair that tumbled across the white pillow.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He had been so frightened that she wouldn't survive, she had felt so frail when he had carried her in here, such a contrast to the last time he lifted her up in his arms, almost a year ago, when she had been laughing and batting at him and full of life.

Her lips had started to turn blue by the time he had got her to the infirmary and he feared that his rescue attempt had done nothing but cut short what little time she had left. And two times in the last few hours that nightmare had nearly come true: he had lost her twice, his voice was hoarse from screaming her name over and over as he sent jolts to her still heart. But he hadn't given up, she had made it this far she could not die now. The tears that had run down his face turned to ones of joy when the monitor began to map out the cardiac beats again.

With her so close to him now he could not stop touching her, his hands moved from gently holding her hand to fumbling for the delicate pulse in her throat – even though the monitors told him her heart rate was strong and steady now, sometimes he just needed to feel it for himself – then his hands moved to her face, carefully avoiding the wounds he had so carefully tended to, one by one.

Before he could lapse into thoughts that tortured him again, he ran a hand through his hair and forced his mind to review her treatment. The medication he was infusing would line her weakened blood vessels, ravaged by prolonged sympathetic nervous system tension, especially the high blood pressure and poor perfusion. Hopefully that would buy time for the nanogenes and the nutrient solution to rebuild heart muscle, and she should show a marked improvement in a few hours. It would still be a long road ahead for her recovery; she would have to take it very easy for quite some time.

He reached for the jars of salves and began another round of applying ointment to her scars and bruises, taking extra care with the fresher cuts, and tamping down guilt as he delicately massaged the abrasions caused by the twine he had used to tie her to him, taking his time over these wounds especially.

She was stirring now and he stiffened, preparing himself for her reaction, but she simply blinked and turned her head slightly to regard him. Her eyes were still glazed but they held his stare.

"Hey," he whispered eventually when she didn't say anything.

"Hey yourself," she murmured, and swallowed, a grimace crossing her features.

He wordlessly handed her a water glass with a straw, holding it for her with his shaking hands as she sipped at it, her eyes still on him.

"Am I dreaming?" she demanded suddenly and his hearts sank a little.

"No, this is real, very real. You are home." He set the water glass aside and grasped her hand, staring into her eyes looking for any sign of fear, holding his breath in case she pulled away from him.

"Tell you what, Spaceman…"

"What?" he breathed, hardly able to contain his joy at how normal she sounded, despite her tired eyes and the rasp in her voice.

"I could murder a nice cup of tea."

He beamed.

The Doctor had moved the kettle to the infirmary, not able to bear being apart from her even as long as it took to brew their tea. But by the next day, most of which she had spent asleep, Donna assured him her stomach could handle some food so he had left her for just as long as it took to make toast: two minutes, 37 seconds.

And in that two minutes and 37 seconds, she was gone.

He set down the tray of cups of tea and hot buttered toast with shaking hands, trying to breathe, trying not to panic, before he tore off down the hallways, calling her name.

He found her again twelve long seconds later, standing in the doorway to her bedroom, leaning on the doorpost. She was eyeing her bedroom like it was a long lost dream. He wanted to scold her for being up on her feet after he had admonished her to stay put, but he bit his tongue instead, seeing something in her face that looked haunted.

"Everything alright?" he asked lightly.

"I haven't slept in here in a really long time," she commented.

He eyed her closely, wondering what was going through her mind, wondering how far back the psychogenic amnesia stretched. Did she remember sharing his bed before he lost her?

"No, Donna, you haven't."

"Did we… are we…?" her words faltered and she rubbed her eyes sleepily. She looked lost and his hearts ached for her.

"Come with me," he whispered, leaning around her to close her bedroom door with both of them still in the hallway. She looked up at him questioningly and he led her back up the corridor, one hand on her lower back, guiding her gently.

"I don't want to go back to the infirmary," she mumbled.

"Okay, just let me get our breakfast and we'll be out of there." He wasn't going to let her out of his sight again.

She stood in the middle of his bedroom while he set down the tray. He watched her out of the corner of his eye while she took in her hairbrush on the dresser, her book on the nightstand, one of her slippers half under the bed. Everything was just as she left it, and when she excused herself to go to the bathroom he knew she would find her toiletries in there too.

But when she emerged again she didn't say anything, just joined him sitting on the bed and grabbed some toast to munch on.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, eating toast and drinking tea, the Doctor sneaking little glances at Donna when she wasn't looking, partly to reassure himself that she was doing okay, and partly to reassure himself that she was really there at all.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her suddenly, surprising both of them.

"This is the best cuppa I have ever had," she said simply, giving him a little smile, and he grinned back at her in return.

"You okay, Doctor?"

"Just… you're quiet, it has been so quiet around here without you…" he trailed off. II have been lost without you./i

She reached for him and squeezed his hand, her eyes on his, full of understanding. He tried to shake himself out of it, she shouldn't be the one comforting him right now, that was his job. But he couldn't move. He was so completely happy to have her back he wanted to bask in her every attention.

She yawned and set down her teacup on the tray with a hand that was still unsteady.

"Why don't you finish your toast and we'll get you to bed," he suggested gently.

"Can't eat any more, I'm too full."

"Okay." He moved the tray to the floor and turned back the covers. She didn't move for a moment, and then reached under her pillow and pulled out her favorite nightie.

"I want to get out of this," she plucked at her smock and he nodded understandingly, confused when she still didn't move, before it clicked in his head that she wanted him to leave her alone to change.

"Oh. Yes, of course, I'll just…" He busied himself ostensibly taking the dishes back to the kitchen (in truth he just set them outside the bedroom door, too afraid to leave her alone again) and when he reentered the room she was already under the blankets, barely conscious enough to respond to his quiet knock at the door.

He settled himself in the chair beside the bed after dimming the lights, leaving just enough illumination to see her features. Nervous exhaustion was evident in her face, pale on the pillow, framed by her now very long hair.

She was looking at him.

"It's okay, Donna, close your eyes, I'll be right here if you need anything."

"I can just… sleep?" Her voice sounded small and uncertain.

He moved the chair closer to the bed and reached out to close his hand over hers.

"Sleep. You are safe now, I promise."

It was barely an hour later when the Doctor noticed her frown in her dreams. He leaned forward in concern when she suddenly sat bolt upright with a cry.

He reached out to her, calling her name, but she fended him off violently and scrambled out of the other side of the bed. He took off after her, adrenaline buzzing in his veins, and caught up to her running through the corridors. Acting on instinct, he stayed back far enough so as not to frighten her, until she ran into the console room and headed straight for the exit doors.

His hearts felt like they were in his throat as he watched her fling open the doors, her nightgown floating around her, her long hair tumbling down her back. The image of her standing there, gazing into the vortex, fear evident in the set of her shoulders, it took him right back to the first day they had met, she had tried to run away from him then too.

He stepped up behind her slowly, jamming his hands in his pockets, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible.

She was breathing heavily, her eyes wild and glistening, but when she saw him she didn't flinch away.

"I just… just had to make sure… I was no longer…" Her arms wrapped protectively around her frail body.

"It's real, you are in space. The TARDIS is real, I am real, and you are safe here. No one will hurt you, Donna."

She shivered, hugging herself tighter, then stumbled to him and his arms came around her as she buried her head in his chest.

"Safe now," he repeated quietly. He pulled the doors closed and led her to the jump seat, watching as she fingered the familiar battered seat cover before hoisting herself onto it. Her sleepwear was so loose on her emaciated body that it covered her completely when she tucked her legs underneath her.

He sat down carefully beside her and they were quiet for a while. He could hear the TARDIS humming, louder than usual, a soft cadence that seemed to wrap around them comfortingly.

"Doctor?" Her eyes stared at her now mostly healed hands.

He moved his hand down her arm, rubbing her gently. "I'm here, Donna."

"When I asked you to tell me a story before, why did you tell me about when we first met the Ood? Why that story?"

"I'm not certain," he ran his free hand through his hair. "Maybe because that was when it began, when I showed you their song. It was just a moment, but that connection between us has been building ever since."

He paused, his fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, his eyes watching her carefully. "I think that's why I could hear you, Donna, even when we were apart. That's how I knew you were still alive, still waiting for me."

She swallowed. "Even though I didn't even believe you were real anymore?"

"I think part of you always knew I was real, and I would always be looking for you. Do you want to talk about it?" He kept his voice tentative, not wanting to rush her.

There was a long silence and then she started, haltingly.

"At first, to survive, all I could do was think about you and the times we had together."

Her nightgown slid off her shoulder and she pushed it back up, it kept sliding off, not fitting her well now she had lost too much weight.

"But then, after a while, I was afraid it was just dreams, fantasies I held close, like some kid with fairy tales that help her sleep. In the end it was scarier to believe that it was real, cause if it wasn't, I just couldn't cope anymore."

He let silence fall between them until she looked down at her toes peeking out from beneath her long sleepwear.

"You never let go of yourself, you know. Even when you didn't accept me, you were still Donna Noble, still brilliant, still strong."

She scoffed. "I wasn't strong. That's rubbish what people say, about hard times making you stronger, it just strips you down, bit by bit, til there's nothing left."

"Not nothing," he protested, "iYou/i. You were still there, still so vibrant, defiant…still Donna. Letting yourself hope can be the hardest thing of all... it makes sense that my being the Doctor, out of nowhere come to rescue you, was too much to reconcile with everything you had survived up to that point. It was easier to think of me as a pretense, as the fantasy. If that was the fabrication that allowed you to go on living through that rescue, then it worked, you held it together, held yourself together, saved our lives in the process, you made it out."

She said nothing for a few minutes and then looked up at him. "I don't know if I did, not entirely. I don't know who I am anymore, or if I will ever really be whole again."

Her words, and the quiet, grief-filled simplicity with which she spoke, shattered him, but he kept his face calm for her sake.

"I know how that feels, believe me, Donna, I do. And you won't be the same ever again, but I am here, I will help you, we will get through this together. Sometimes, when you cannot even stand anymore, and you have lost so much, you turn around and there's" ia bride just materialized in your console room/i "…someone there, and you don't need to run anymore."

She curled up in his arms and he held her until she fell asleep. When he was certain she was deeply in slumber, tears ran down his face unchecked. The horror she had dealt with and the joy of having her back overwhelmed him.

He silently promised the woman in his arms that he would do what he could to make those horrible memories a distant dream for her; then he carefully gathered her in his arms and carried her back to his bed.

Without hesitation, he lay down beside her, his hands on her temples, at first smoothing her hair away from her face until he was sure she was deeply asleep again. Then, not caring about propriety, he entered her mind and held back every monster in the dark before they could steal into her dreams again.