When Donna entered the room again, her daughter was at last asleep, the tray on her bedside table untouched. She doubted it would help her, given what had happened. What had happened? That question had run round and round in her mind for weeks now, and now that it was almost answered, it only rose more questions. Who was that man? Why did she call the police and tell them it was all a misunderstanding?

Where had she seen him before?

She was sure she recognised him. The outfit was familiar, she was sure of it. She looked down and plucked the phone sticking out of her jeans pocket, the one she'd carried every hour of every day since Mia had gone missing. She scrolled down and found 'Mum'.

It rang for little more than a moment and it was picked up. "Donna? Anything?"

"Yes, she's home now. She's sleeping," she explained in hushed tones, closing the door on her way out. "Listen, I have something to ask."

"Me? Whatever could you ask me? Have the police been round yet?"

Donna breathed, unable to lie but unable to explain her unexplainable motives for why they hadn't. "I was just wondering, see, when she came home…a man was with her."

Her mother barely waited to breathe. "A man? A man?! Is she ok? Did he hurt her? Why that little-"

"Mom! Just breathe and shut up for a moment so I can talk! She told me it wasn't like that…and the man she was with…I recognised him."

"Perhaps you saw him round the shops or something, that's where they lie in wait for the prettiest little thing they can find-"

"Mom! It doesn't feel that…vague. I've seen him…I'm even sure ive spoken to him. I just thought maybe you could help, so I could eliminate the possibility of him being a family friend. Thought it might be helpful for when I call the police-"

"You haven't called them?! What on earth are you playing at girl! Just as bad as your grandfather, god rest him. Always saw everything as a little adventure-"

"MUM! Shut it and listen!"

"Don't you talk to your mother like that, now. Right, what does he look like?"

She thought back, but she didn't really need to. "Brown hair, kind of all over the place. Thin, too skinny for words, brown eyes," she listed, her mother silent for once. She waited.

"Donna, what was he wearing?" Her mother asked seriously. Donna barely thought it would be important, that he would have changed all the time. Then she remembered she recognised the trench coat.

"Brown suit, long trench coat."

She waited for what seemed like forever for a reply, and usually she savoured any quiet her mother aloud. But the silence made her uneasy.

"You know him don't you?"

"No, I don't. Look, Donna, sweetheart, I've got things to do…erm…tell Mia I'll call her later, ok?"

Just then, Donna lost her balance slightly, and the vision went fuzzy. It lasted for as long as it took her hand to lean upon the wall to steady her. "Ok mum, I'll tell her. Bye."

The line was dead. Donna shook the dizzy spell off, and decided that maybe she should get some sleep as well. It was needed, by the looks of her.

…

The phone rang next to my bedside, stirring me from my weak sleep. I instantly assumed it was the Doctor, one of his masterful genius tricks, making me snap the phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Mia, sweetheart, its your gran." Her voice was fast and forceful, and Mia didn't have chance to feel disappointed; concern took its place. "Gran! Have you spoken to mum? How are you? I'm so sorry about worrying everyone-"

"Don't worry about that Mia, just one thing I need to know. The man, the one you were with…does he have a name?"

I frowned. "Sorry?"

"That's a no, isn't it? Well, not a normal one. More like a title. Am I right?"

My heart jumped in my throat, stayed there, and stopped, lodged. "How do you know?"

I heard her heavy sigh through the ear piece. "Look, your mother must not remember him. Listen to me, please remember that. Ok?"

"Yes gran, I will, but…how do you know him?"

"Your mother travelled with him, before you were born. I'm not sure of the full story, but I remember the stars going out…and going outside…the sky…it was impossible. Planets that shouldn't be there, clear and humongous. The Doctor told us she'd saved the world, but she'd gained a mind of the time lords, too much for a human to survive with. He wiped her memory of everything that was him."

"But he didn't! She remembers…in the back of her mind there is something there. I know it. She told the police that it was a mistake, and that I was travelling with a friend. You know mum, she'd tear him a new one if she didn't trust him even a little bit."

She sighed pitifully. "That's impossible, she wouldn't survive that-"

"Gran, what if you're wrong? Can you honestly tell me that she's gone all these years, and that you've never seen that look on her face, as though trying hard to remember?"

"You think that's the same as him walking up to her and showing her a picture of her next to that space ship thing on a planet with a pink sky? Just as long as those inklings stay that way, just as that, shes safe. The Doctor was explicit about that."

"I know! He said! But he can be wrong-"

"Mia, please, stop chasing the idea. I know why you're doing it, and I understand; he's incredible, and dazzling. But think of your mother."

"I am."

"Then do the right thing. Consider her, and what might happen, please?"

A tear formed in my eye, and I was suddenly doubtful that my plan would work. "I'll try my best."

I slowly lowered the phone and pushed the red button without looking. I felt too sick to look anywhere but ahead, trying to be ok with the prospect of normality again. When I found I couldn't, I closed my eyes, and projected my mind inwards.

Hello?

I waited, but no answer came. Just what I wanted.

I left my room, and found my mother asleep on her bed. I didn't want to disturb her, so I waited downstairs, trying to find anything to occupy my mind. I switched the TV on and stared aimlessly at the screen for 30 minutes, until I heard the creaking of footsteps. I turned to find her padding down the carpeted stairs. Mimicking her movements from earlier, I scooted over on the sofa and she sat down.

"Looks like I could sleep as well as you could. Never could sleep in the day."

I gave a short laugh, and sniffed. If my plan didn't work, and I'd placed my trust in something not worthy of trust, she would die. I would be killing my mum, and I'd never be forgiven. Not by my dad, my gran, the Doctor, anyone, including myself. Then I thought, would I rather die knowing all that I'd done, that I'd saved the world, nay, many? Or would I be happy to die of old age still wondering what that nagging thought was niggling away, somewhere unknown in my own mind?