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thestarsoutofyourwindow · 3 years

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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader

A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)

Word Count: 2596

Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.

Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.

I should try to post part two as soon as possible.

This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).

Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.

You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.

You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.

Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.

After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.

Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.

It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?

The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.

If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.

Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.

A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.

You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.

Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.

The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.

There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.

A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.

He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.

It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.

You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.

So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.

The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.

His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.

After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.

You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.

The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.

Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.

Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.

The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.

You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.

"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."

Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.

You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.

You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.

There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.

"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.

His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.

However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.

His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.

"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."

Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"

"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."

Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.

Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"

"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."

You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"

The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."

"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"

"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."

"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.

You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.

You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.

If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.

You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.

"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.

"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.

"You don't sound sure,"

"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."

"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"

You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."

"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"

You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."

You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.

He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.

You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.

"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"

"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"

"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"

The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.

As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?

From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.

#eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #angst #part 1 #crying #slight fluff

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herstarburststories · 4 years

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Important Milestones (Damian Wayne x reader)

✾ Summary: An intimate look through your and Damian's relationship. Requested! It’s been a hot bit since I wrote for Damian, so I hope this one is good!

↼❈⇁

First meeting

Dick was taking Damian to the circus

Add a long conversation and lots of "Yeah, Dami. I'm sure the animals are treated well-- Actually, animals aren't allowed in legal circus anymore. You don't have to worry."

They were watching the show, and Damian couldn’t believe that Grayson was so excited about clowns

Damian excused himself to get some food

Dick asked him to get a hotdog, but Damian will bring him popcorn #beaveg

Thing is, you and Damian arrived the food trunk at the same time

Which leaded to an argument

Y/N: I got here first!

Damian: You are not on the line!

Y/N: Because you almost ran over me!

You two kept going long enough for a worried Dick to show up

How to trust each other

You know when you've never seen a person before, but once you lay your eyes on them, you start seeing their face in every crowd?

That's basically you and Damian

How come you didn't know the idiot from the circus was also the Wayne guy that studied with you?

How he, with Talia and Batman's observation skills, never noticed you walking around Gotham's School and now he always caught a sight of you?

You and Damian quickly fall into a weird routine:

Glare each other during lunch

Rolls your eyes when the others was talking in class

Annoy each other whenever you had the chance

Jon teased him a lot

Talking about Superboy...

He seemed off in the morning and he hadn't showed up for lunch like he always did

Damian decided to look for his best friend

Surprisingly, he found Jon crying in your arms in the middle of the chemistry laboratory

You just looked at Damian and nodded for him to come in

Y/N: His parents had a big fight. I found him here alone and thought I could help. Since you are here, guess I'll go.

Damian: You can stay. I mean, Jon probably could use your emotional assistance.

Damian still finds you annoying (and so do you), but you helped his friend

He trust you... A bit

Recognize your feelings

Damian came to school one day. He is clearly hurt-- he couldn’t even walk straight

Jon remained quiet. He was there when the week's villain throw Damian against a wall as if he was a bag of potatoes

But you don't know about the Robin detail

Besides, you are sort of a trinity with them now

Therefore, you worry

And you ask

And you worry some more

It's been a few weeks since your friendship started. Damian trusts you, he really does, but not enough to tell you

Let's keep in mind that pretty much like Bruce, Damian isn't the best when it comes to expressing his feelings through anything but violence

So, he acts like an idiot

Y/N: Damian, come on. I'm not stupid enough to believe you’d fall hard enough to get yourself hurt like this. Talk to me.

Damian: Stop pushing your need to fix everything on me, Y/N. You are not my mother. Don't waste your worry on me, I don't need it.

You realized you liked him when you felt way more worried than you usually would

But Damian just noticed his cherish for you when you glared at him with evident hurt in your eyes and left the table

He just wanted you back, making silly jokes with Jon and stealing his fries

Kiss me, idiot

Two days

48 hours + 12 minutes since you two fought

A whole weekend

LISTEN, his life was going perfectly well before you came along

Now it seems like you opened a spot that's exactly your fit and put yourself there

Whenever you aren't around, Damian feels this weird sensation of missing

Jon convinces him into talking to you

As soon as he sees you in school, he does

Apologize becomes another argument (surprise, surprise)

Damian: Why do you care so much?!

Y/N: Because I like you, idiot!

Damian: You, you like me? As in--

Then you kiss him

Because, let's be clear, you'd end up kissing or punching him

Finding out he's Robin

It's the most stupid way possible

Like, for real

Last night, his Robin's duties kept Damian up until 5am

Instead of leaving his clothes inside the Batcave as usual, he just crumbled to his bed

The sun arrived and so did you

School project

While Damian was out to grab some books, you were studying his room

A picture of him and Jon. Some papers with Arabian words. A dog's bed. Robin suit. A sword

Wait, come back

A. Robin. Suit.

Damian Wayne was many things, but cosplayer certainly wasn't on the list

The pieces glued together fast

A rich family would make sense: Batman and Robin's instruments never looked cheap. Four Robins existed among the years, and Damian had 3 brothers. Not to mention that he'd show up with random scratches and never explain what happened. He was good with swords, and the current Robin had been seen with them a lot of times. Besides, Damian Wayne would never wear a costume willingly, much less keep one in his room

He walks inside the room to see you wearing his cape and mask

Y/N: Guess I'm robin' your persona, huh? Wanna tell me something?

Meeting the family

You come from a big family

Good thing because anybody else would be scared if they were in your shoes

MESS, MESS, MESS

Dick is smiling like a crazy all the time, and making dad jokes

Tim is teasing Damian by asking you to blink twice if you need saving

Jason is directly fighting Damian and calling him devil spawn

Bruce is quietly watching everyone with a subtle smile on his lips. He asks you a few questions, and occasionally asks the boys to behave before answering his phone and excusing himself

Babs, Steph and Cassandra come in later

Now the teasing is divided between you and Damian and Steph and Tim

You tease them a lot, blushing Tim is adorable

You are wearing purple boots, and Steph already loves you for that

Dick tells Babara about you being aware of the family secret

She offered to train you for some self-defense

YOU ACCEPTED, DUH. SHE IS THE BATGIRL!!

Cass is more quiet, but very friendly

Alfred was the first batfam member that you'd met, though (also your fav)

You try (key word being try) to help him in the kitchen

Batcow became your best friend, sorry Jon

You met the Titan family as well

Now you had munition to tease Dick as much as he teased you and Damian

Thank you, Kory

Also, Kor is a real life alien princess, how cool is that!?

Beast Boy is the funniest guy -- and now you are pretty sure you became a vegetarian because you can't eat animals after seeing his transformation

Raven reminds you of Cass

Donna is so powerful, and she knows so many languages!

You get along with his two families

Although Damian rolls his eyes a lot during y'all interaction, he is really happy

First kid

You and Damian are in university when it happens

You both know it's a big step

There's no turning back, you two will always be connected

Damian and you are now responsible, parents

Of the cutest bunny!

Yep, you insisted on naming him Robin

The first kid you both adopted together

Get on your knees for me

Damian isn't much of a romantic

You don't really mind

But when he proposes, it's the sweetest thing

You two had ordered some veggie food to celebrate the end of your finals

Finally a break!

Damian was holding you on the couch as you both watched one of your favorite movies when Robin, the bunny showed up

Y/N: Batbunny, just because we have vegan food, it doesn't mean you can get some. Go eat your lettuce.

Damian: Beloved, maybe you should see what he brought for you.

The bunny had a necklace wrapped around him!!

And the said necklace was attached to a ring!!

A FUCKING DIAMOND!?

Extra of love:

You became a vigilant for a bit before deciding how you truly wanted to help people

Besides charity, you became a lawyer specialized in cases of racism and immigration

Your and Damian's wedding was a mix of your culture and his

Comment/Reblog if you liked it, feedback is magic! Wanna see more? Check my Masterlist! How about get tagged on my batboys or just Damian works? Ask me or add yourself to my taglist!

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donnanxblearchive · 4 years

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send me an au you wish i‘d write. // i wish you would write a fic where donna & gwen & martha are having fun together! ( @yoakkemae ) tagging @manaborn bc yea

Gwen had declared they all needed some time off. Donna had found it a little difficult to try to argue against her since she had Facetime’d her and Martha while she was taking cover and her jacket was a little too freshly singed. She’s sure that Gwen knew what she was doing; if she’d called from her ship, Donna wouldn’t of hesitated to steamroll over her ideas.

“I’m off Friday, actually,” had piped up Martha, even as Donna knew she could see her glare. “What’d you have in mind, Gwen? I might be able to trade my Saturday shift.”

“Martha, don’t try to twist yourse–”

“Yes! We could go to the mountains, really unplug from it all!” Donna had taken a breath to retort when Gwen dropped her phone with a muttered curse. Both women waited quietly as the sounds of whatever defense maneuvers Gwen took faded in, and then the phone was picked back up with a scramble. “How about at the cabins from my 16th a couple years back?”

Donna blinked, paperwork slowly becoming forgotten. “Over in America? In the Rocky Mountains?” Gwen nodded eagerly. Martha tried to hide a smile behind her hand, it didn’t really work. “It’s February, I don’t think it’ll be easy to find one for this weekend.” She hoped it didn’t sound like she was agreeing to this weekend, she’s sure she had other things to do this weekend. “Don’t you have things due for uni?”

“Oh, I’m sure missing one assignment won’t kill her.”

“You are not supposed to be a bad influence.”

“She does just fine while traveling around.”

“Yeah!” Gwen was now on the move, as her picture shook and she kept looking behind her. Donna was ready to chew her ass out over being so overconfident. “If it helps, I’ll get everything turned in early and let my professors know I’ll be going out on a family trip.” There went that excuse. Donna chewed on the tip of her pen.

“It’s going to be expensive.”

“Loosen your fist a little, Scrooge.”

“Oi!” She pointed her pen at the phone, ignoring the loud laughter in order to keep a mean face on. “I still have to budget my expenses, just like everyone else.” Not a lie, but not the truth either. Her budget was hilariously more inflated than well over half the world’s population and she was well aware of it. Still, she had to make a point. “Keep that sass up an’ see if I’ll pay your ticket, Doctor Jones.”

“Oh, pleeeease, Auntie.” She must really want this trip. It was always desperate measures for Gwen to not just call her by her name. Donna gave a long suffering sigh. “Just two days away, no aliens, no paperwork, no projects. It’ll be us, snow, and spa treatments!”

“I’ll get Eliza to see what she can do,” twin cheers erupted and she shouted to talk over them, “but only if she can move my own schedule around. I’m not makin’ any promises. And, I’ll cancel it all if any of your professors tell me you’re missin’ papers.” Gwen stuck her tongue out on that and Martha shook her head. “Martha, how long ‘till you can confirm your shift change?”

“I should know by tonight. We plan more out then.”

“Guys—” Looking at Gwen’s square on the screen showed just a glittering purple sky. Her voice sounded off to the side, and Donna assumed she was probably looking over Plumber notes. She hoped she was looking over Plumber notes and not taking cover again. “Wild thought, but I could just fly us there.” Denials from both Martha and Donna were quick, making Gwen pop her head back into frame. It was upside down, and mostly her eye, but the insult was clear. “Fine. Party poopers.”

“We’ll reconvene in the evening. Martha, keep savin’ lives. Gwen, stay alive.”

“No promises, loveyouguyssomuchBYE!”

Once seven o’clock rolled around, Donna was able to move her schedule around and Martha was able to trade her Saturday shift to get a three-day weekend. The three of them were in her office with two boxes of pizza steaming up her glass coffee table, and the projector displaying snow wear options. Gwen was more than a little distracted as her assistant was currently talking to her about their lodging options seeing as the original choice was all booked up.

“Wait, go back, go back, yes, that one! Where is it again?”

“Aspen, in Colorado.”

“It looks really cute. Donna, Martha, look, isn’t it cute?” With a few quick taps, Gwen switched the projected image. She very much ignored Donna’s indignant squawk, but quickly returned Martha’s silent overhead fistbump. “And we can get one that has bunk beds!”

“Eliza, I will fire you if you book the bunks.”

“Noted, ma’am.” Gwen pouted dramatically into her pizza slice. Martha gave her shoulder a consoling pat but wisely didn’t voice an opinion on the bunk debate. “There are three bedroom options, two bathrooms and a full kitchen. I can see about requesting one near the sauna.” Gwen gave an exaggerated gasp, nearly choking on her pizza. Donna rolled her eyes and waved a hand in silent agreement.

Once her assistant left the office to make the booking, control evaded Donna again. The iPad was now in Martha’s power, who was swiping along the different recreational activities listed. “Don’t you want to check the price beforehand?” Martha got a throw pillow to the face for her efforts.

“Let’s finish this up already before Shaun files a missing persons report on me.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Donna squinted, as if the action would help recall her conversation with her husband. Damn TimeLord consciousness was only useful when it decided to be. “I mentioned it to him. I mean, I told him that I might be goin’ outta town this weekend. Course, he asked if it was just outta town or really outta space, he’s a bit hurt from our trip to Clom last month–”

“Sucks,” cuts in Gwen around a mouthful of pizza.

“–and I still haven’t been able to get the universal signal done to his new phone, so I’m sure he’s just being a worrywart. I hadn’t confirmed my schedule yet when I talked to him, an’ then I had to do some video conferences an’ the day just slipped away.” She shrugged. “I’ll just send a text right now. You two can choose what you’d want Eliza to book at the resort.”

She leaned back against her desk and typed out a few messages. Martha and Gwen were enthusiastically going over the different options, giggles freely sprinkled between them, and Donna felt a warmth blossom in her chest. She tried – and usually failed – to hide how much she worried over the two, and seeing them able to act so relaxed helped her own stress by leaps and bounds. A fun, Earth-bound, no-magic, and wonderfully impromptu vacation might really be the best for them.

“Alright, you two,” she gave a quick clap of her hands and swiped the iPad out of Martha’s hands, “the husband’s aware you’ve got me in lockdown. Let’s get this trip planned.”

The first day hadn’t been so bad. They’d taken a red-eye flight to try to beat the six hour jetlag, had a marvelous brunch in bed, and then powered on ahead with the day’s activities. Donna had forwarded Gwen the itinerary from Eliza, declaring that she wasn’t going to stress about the agenda as this wasn’t even her idea. Not that Gwen worried about keeping track of it all with how wide her smile was the entire day. They’d gotten wonderful hour-long deep tissue massages, popped in the sauna afterwards, a quick shower at the cabin and taken the town by storm. Which just meant going around town and peer pressuring Donna to tap into the TimeLord knowledge of the town’s history.

“You know,” Donna had said to Martha as they took a milkshake break, “I’m not too sure if he’d have a fit about this.”

She never had to specify who he was. Martha always seemed to know, always giving that small nod in response. “Taking days off wasn’t exactly his thing. For all he said to just travel, he was always doing something, wasn’t he?”

“God, yes. I had to wrestle him into taking us to dinner or heaven forbid the beach!” They shared a soft laugh. “I mean, he enjoyed it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I was talkin’ more about all this,” she tapped at her forehead, “bein’ so here, ya’know?”

“It’s not like he was shy, Donna.”

“Yes, yes, and he was an insufferable show-off in the worst moments. Still, it just,” she shrugs, not sure how to formulate her thoughts and that was definitely very human of her, “it doesn’t feel quite right to just be larkin’ ‘round town and basically pluck out the Wikipedia page about city hall with a blink.”

“Because it’s your doing it, or because he’s not here?”

There went Martha again, being all understanding eyes and soft smiles. Her bedside manner was truly spectacular, and it just made her all the more brilliant a friend. What Donna would’ve given to have a friend like her when she was younger, a true reasonable and supportive person. Introspective talks like these never felt intrusive with her, they hadn’t in a very long time, and Donna was finding herself more receptive to analyzing her feelings than she thought. As she kept quiet, Martha extended the same courtesy, without so much as a blink of impatience.

Gwen came bounding up to them in that moment, fresh snow dusting her shoulders and making a pretty picture as it melted in her hair. Without asking, she squeezed between their bar stools and took a sip from Donna’s shake. “I found a super adorable bookstore, it’s maybe a ten minute walk from here. Are you guys ready? It’s also in a plaza with some clothing stores, and I wanna max out Donna’s card before dinner.”

“Oi!” Donna tugged at Gwen’s ponytail while Martha laughed. “Don’t you have your own money?”

“I cannot afford everything I want to buy.”

“Maybe you should budget like our self-made moneybags over here.” Martha smirked. “Though I don’t think another thou will make much difference to her.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Gwen’s nod was far too somber. Any scraps of severity were demolished as she slurped the last dredges of Donna’s shake before giving a loud sigh. “Guess I’ll have to spend two thousand.”

“Fuck off,” Donna said with all the hostility of a baby duck amid their laughter.

The second day is when the nefarious plan came to light. Breakfast had been at one of the resort restaurants, in the type of place that Donna would’ve been all aflutter stepping foot in years ago. But the atmospheric instrumental music, warm lighting, floor-to-ceiling windows, and softly spoken waitress had long been part of her daily routine. By extension, it was certainly more common in Gwen and Martha’s lives than a decade back. As such, they all knew better than too be as wickedly loud as normal, and the conversation was kept light— to a point.

“Sorry, snowboarding?”

“Yup, our rentals and instructor are scheduled to start at one, and,” Gwen paused to take a forkful of her omelet, “Eliza booked us for four hours.”

“Four hours?!” Her voice rose well above ‘indoor,’ and Martha motioned at her. “Are you flippin’ nuts, Gwen?” Her niece shrugged and kept eating. “I’m not snowboardin’ for four bloody hours, hard pressed to find me there for e’en one!”

“You can’t tell me you’ve never tried it.” Donna scoffed at Martha. “What did you do when you were here last?”

“Watch over a bunch of sixteen year olds.” She pointed a fork at Gwen, quickly adding, “And don’t say your lot wasn’t that bad or so help me God—” Gwen deflated, but grumbled under her breath before sipping her hot chocolate.

“It’s not that difficult, Donna. Plus, you’re not goin’ in blind. We’ve got an instructor.”

“I take it you’ve done this before,” she said dryly.

“Years ago, yeah! It’s loads of fun, believe me. It’s just like that game the arcade has, just with more wind around you.” Donna kept as blank an expression as possible as she buttered her croissant without looking down. “Oh, c’mon, you know the one! Gwen,” she turned to the younger girl, “she knows what I’m talking about right?”

Gwen sucked her teeth and gave a small shake. “I’ve literally never been able to get her into an arcade.”

For a brief moment, a second even, Martha’s face fell. But just as quick she smiled the way that doctors do when they know chances are slim but they have to keep moral up, and Donna narrowed her eyes. “Well, no matter. It’s all balance and coordination, and even if you fall a few times, it’s going t’be fun!”

It was not being fun. She ate snow too many times to count, the cold was well past her bones and into her soul, and she was certain her ass was going to be covered in bruises. Gwen had, naturally glided around like a professional, all sparkling eyes and reddened cheeks. She looked like the poster girl for the slopes as her red hair whipped around her, making her an easy dot to follow. Martha had needed just a slight assistance from the instructor, and if there wasn’t near a twenty year difference between them, Donna would have immediately accused her of having practiced recently.

“Donnaaaaa.” Gwen might be whining, but that smile is still plastered on her face. “Don’t be such a sourpuss.”

“I will be as sour as I damn well please.”

“Donna,” cut in Martha as she gracefully came up the side and looked like a damn movie star taking off her helmet, “we’ve only been here an hour.” Donna eyes bulged but Martha kept talking. “I think you might just be overthinking it. I mean, what if during your travels, you would’ve had to snowboard?”

“I would have gladly taken my role as bait.”

“No,” the word was very forceful and Donna scrunched her nose at it. “You would not. You would have given it your one hundred percent effort and been brilliant at it. I sincerely doubt you’re givin’ more than thirty percent.”

“Mrs. Temple-Noble,” the three swung their attention to the instructor, “I will agree that you could be putting just a little more enthusiasm into your attempts. Often times your success depends on your state of mind too, not just your state of body.”

“Thanks Jared, I’ll make sure to blame my mind when I snowball off the curve.” The instructor gave a sigh, the first (and certainly not last) break in his professional demeanor. “However, I am pushing fifty and my body doesn’t work like it used to before.”

Gwen hums a little ditty at her words, which Donna can’t place but Martha can. She gives the younger girl a slap to her shoulder and Gwen looks only slightly sheepish. They seem to have a silent talk in the next few moments while Donna might as well be climbing Jared in her attempts to stand up. If she wasn’t so worried about getting frostbite on her ass, she might have interrogated them about their charades game.

“Ya know, Sylvia had mentioned that Nerys was gonna go snowboarding this year.” Donna had been about to remove the snowboard when the mention of her best frenemy come out. Gwen continued a bit too offhandedly. “I think she’d said she wanted to invite you, but you don’t know how to snowboard, so it would’ve killed the mood. Isn’t that right, Martha?”

“When I talked to Veena, she wouldn’t shut up about it. She said that—”

“Shut up, shut up. I’m not goin’ to have that fuckin’ breadstick think she can do better. You know who taught her to roller skate? Me!” She huffed and pulled at the hem of her snow jacket. “I’ll shove this board up her arse before lettin’ her win this, Jared, let’s do this again, chop chop.”

She missed the fistbump shared between the younger women in all her blustering rage.

It doesn’t take Donna long after that to get the hang of it. She’s nowhere near the level of expertise that Gwen shows, but that’s fine. She can at least go down the beginners slopes with them and scream with laughter once they reach the bottom in one piece. Jared finishes his four hours with them, but they keep on going until they can’t deny the sun is setting and everyone is being instructed off the snow. She’s sure to be aching in the morning, but she’s smiling the entire time Martha and Gwen are recounting the day’s adventure over room service.

The third day is short given their late afternoon flight. They wake up late, make quick work of their packing, and set out for a casual lunch. They end up passing through a chocolate shop going back to the resort, and Donna nearly melts as she bites into her eclair.

“What would your trainer say?” Martha’s eyes are crinkled up as she teases. She takes Donna’s shove with a chuckle.

“Sod off, do you have any idea ‘ow many calories I burned yesterday? I more than deserve this.”

“Snowboarding is a great way to start.” Gwen kept her gaze straight ahead, even as she kept her arm linked to Donna’s. “It really makes your body and mind work together, and counts on a sense of timing too. Really makes you use your core the entire time without neglecting the rest of your body. You know what else does that?” She didn’t wait for Donna to respond. “Taekwondo, karate, jujitsu, or—”

“Oh my God, was that the whole point of this? To keep pushin’ your martial arts agenda?”

“She has a point.”

“Absolutely not!”

“What’s the harm in learning a little self-defense? You’re not really only workin’ in an office. You still come across aliens and thwart plans all the time.”

“And I have a trainer that makes sure I can still run away before they lay a hand on me.”

They bicker, two against one, pretty much the rest of the day until they have to check out. She gives in and calls Eliza on speaker phone while Gwen is still listing the mental benefits of martial arts. The assistant sounds properly confused when she says she wants to book gym space next week. The look of elated shock on Gwen’s face when Donna throws her the phone to request what’s needed almost makes the forthcoming torture worth it.

“Was that so hard, Donna?”

“You’re not getting’ off that easy, Martha, I’ll haul you outta the hospital myself if you don’t show up.”

#[ drabble ]#yoakkemae #manaborn #i totally went overboard with this #i literally didnt know how to stop it #is this exactly fun? idk but i had fun writing it

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nat-20s · 4 years

Note

practically all of them fit for tendonna but "please stop petting the test subjects" for themb and they're just wreaking havoc at this weird, cool laboratory they found???

LOL remember these prompts from 900 million years ago?? WHOOPS. anyway have this, which is hopefully mostly in line with what you hoped for?

~~~

“Donna, please stop petting the test subjects.”

Donna hears him, clearly processes the words, and then pointedly stops stroking what appears to be a furry nudibranch only so that she can scoop it up in her hands and press it against her cheek. The thing makes trills in response, which emboldens her to throw the The Doctor a flat look and say, “I did, in fact, stop petting them. And they’re not test subjects, they’re, you know….”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow at her, hoping their typical back and forth will disguise the uneasiness that is starting to curl its way aroundhis ribs. “They’re what, exactly, Doctor Noble?”

“Oh hush you. I don’t know exactly, but they’re not a threat! I mean, look at them!”

Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, The Doctor starts to scan them despite Donna’s incensed expression on the odd chance that they’re, say, full of toxin. “Right, because when something is cute and fluffy there’s no possible way it could be a threat. Like bears. Definitely not a threat.”

With an eye roll, she replies, “Yes, because something that fits in the palm of my hand and a bear are clearly equally vicious. How many bears do you have to deal with anyway? Wait, shit, how many bears do you have to deal with? Are we gonna get attacked by a bear? Do we need to get a dog?”

The Doctor has a reputation for being a bit..scatterbrained. Lot of tangents and nonsequiturs come out of his mouth, so most people seem comparatively linear in their logic. Donna is not most people. He pauses his assessment of the critters to stare at her and ask, “What?”

“For bear attacks. Loads of people who survive them do so because their dog helped out. Read about it in wilderness guides.”

“Why were you reading wilderness guides in Chiswick?”

“Because I’ve gone camping? What are you, the literature police?”

“Well I do have the police box-”

“-No! That doesn’t make you any form of cop! We’ve already discussed and settled this! Besides, who even wants to hang out with coppers? Nasty creatures, unlike the little bundle of joy that I have decided is named Tanya and is my friend.”

“Tanya” makes a cooing noise at this, and Donna sticks out her tongue at The Doctor. The Doctor, in kind, throws his hands up and says, “You can not go around befriending strange alien creatures that you know nothing about!”

“It worked out pretty well for me last time.”

“Last time? When-”

“-you, time boy. You were the strange alien creature.”

The Doctor swallows down the reply that she doesn’t know it’s worked out, that given his track record it most likely won’t. Donna has a low tolerance policy for fatalism and would happily steam roll over that response, so instead he sputters out, “That’s! That’s completely different. For one, I am a person rather than a creature, and secondly, you didn’t find me in a decrepit abandoned research lab!”

Amusement rather than annoyance threads itself into her words when she says, “No, you were just my kidnapper. Completely innocuous.”

The Doctor lets out a groan, about to make a rebuttal, when the sonic screwdriver lets out a series of dings. Holding it up to his face, he mutters, “Oh. Ooooh. Interesting.”

Sufficiently distracted from her lil buddy Tanya, Donna leans over and squints at the sonic as if she has any idea how to read it herself. Maybe one day. “So? Final verdict, is Tanya killing me?”

“No. Well. Eh. Sort of? No. Not yet, at least.”

Donna slowly half pulls Tanya away from her face, giving it a side-eye before looking back at the Doctor and saying, “Not the most promising thing I’ve ever heard. Is it going to go all giant and eat me or something? Is it going to turn into a bear?”

“Not exactly. Our friend Tanya-

“-thank you for using their proper name-”

“-it definitely isn’t but okay. Tanya here is a very distant and much less threatening cousin to the Kantrofarri. Instead of feeding directly on the brain matter, it feeds on brain waves, specifically the emitted by you as a positive response to it’s presence. The noises it emits have remarkably similar effects as that of a cat purring, albeit to a more extreme degree.”

Without realizing she has resumed her stroking of Tanya’s fur, Donna says, “That doesn’t sound so bad. Like cleaner fish and sharks, symbiotic or whatever”

The Doctor tilts his head back and forth a couple times as he replies, “Eeeehhhhh theoretically, yes, under the right conditions, it would be much like having a pet. Mutually beneficial, two sided domestication.”

“However?”

“However, these aren’t the right conditions. With any organism that can directly interact the dopamine center of the brain has risks, and Tanya very well can become addictive, especially if stressed. In fact,” The Doctor pauses, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looks around, “that’s probably the point of this lab. Making a drug out of living creatures.”

Eyes downcast, Donna’s voice is softer as she says, “That’s horrible.”

Somehow, nomatter how many awful things she sees traveling with him, they always manage to surprise her. She hopes that that stays true, that the cruelty of the universe doesn’t become something she’s accustomed too. She wonders if The Doctor is already there.

These thoughts pass in a matter of seconds, before she gives her head a quick shake and says, “Tanya appears to be the only one left around. Is there any..I mean, can we take them home? Is there a home to take them to?”

A small smile appears on the Doctor’s face. “That there is,” the smile grows, “We’d have to skip the spa we came for though.”

Donna rolls her eyes, knowing it’s not even a question for either one of them, and says, “You know, one of these days you’re going to actually have to make good on your promise of taking me somewhere relaxing.”

“You seem pretty relaxed right now.”

“Yeah. No, telling me the small fluffy creature I’m holding was being experimented on to turn deadly is not actually super de-stressing. Little bit of human lore for you right there, I know you don’t get a lot of it in your day to day alien activities.”

“Hey! At this point I’ve spent exponentially more time with humans than my own species! I’m very well versed in your lore.”

“Sure.”

“I am!”

“Uh huh. Then, pop quiz Doctor, what destination would a human such as myself actually find relaxing after we drop Tanya off?”

“There’s this lovely planet called Midnight, admittedly with a deeply toxic atmosphere, but the facilities are incredible! And the views, wouldn’t wanna miss that for the galaxy! Waterfall made of sapphires!”

“But do they have massages?”

“They do in fact have massages.”

“Perfect! I’ll need it after the emotional stress of parting with Tanya. Maybe we could keep them?”

“Donna.”

“Right, right, I know, it’s not right, deadly addiction. I will do the responsible thing here. But then massages.”

The Doctor gives a nod. “But then massages.”

#donna noble #tenth doctor #anon #replies #nat talks doctor who #nat drabbles #Anonymous #OKAY THE FORMATTING SHOULD BE FIXED

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davidtennan-t · 4 years

Text

‘Saviour in the Snow’

Chapter 2

The Doctor doesn't return from a mission on an alien world. Donna has to take matters into her own hands. Some Whump and general Ten/Donna foolery.

Chapter 3 will be following soon!

AO3 Link - Chapter 2

Gelta’Divians were known for their ignorant, selfish behaviour. Their attitude to life wasn’t exactly rainbows and sunshine, nor was their hospitality. It would be the last time he ever offered his help to species this side of the Adrota Galaxy.

“N-noted for n-next time…”

The Doctor never liked to admit when he was cold. A Time Lord’s body temperature was easily adjustable and controlled – better central heating, is what he said to Donna once and she had laughed and commented on his ignorant cockiness over his superior biology.

But even Time Lord’s had their limits and the temperature wasn't going to stop falling.

He was shivering and that, in his mind, was a bad sign. A terrible sign. A dangerous sign, even.

He'd tried countless times to pull himself out but being unable to turn to reach the rocks, or use his sonic screwdriver in any sense or fashion, it all proved useless. The throbbing of his ankle caused the occasional wince and groan, only furthering the problem of his situation. It even crossed his mind to use the sonic to try and shift the rock using setting 82, but even then, the chances of causing another collapse in the cave would be high. It was better to be a trapped Time Lord than a squashed Time Lord.

So, after 1 hour, 3 minutes and 19 seconds, he was still firmly trapped.

“S-should have brought the coat…” the Doctor stated through lightly chattering teeth to nobody but himself. The dimming light through the very few cracks along with his very good sense of time told him the night was drawing close, and there was still no solid plan on how he was going to free himself. The Time Lord was used to making plans up as he went along but he couldn’t move – how could he move along? There was no way of contacting Donna to tell her where he was, nor what he could do to fix the situation. He wanted her there... he missed her.

“In here – the collapse must be further in.”

“With two of our buildings gone it has to be an extensive collapse. The northern forces will pay for the damage caused!”

Deep, booming voices suddenly echoed through the cave and the Doctor steadily glanced up from where he lay. He considered shouting in reply but the unfriendly tone made him second guess his thought. The blue light from the sonic screwdriver was illuminating his position so he reached over with his cold fingers and fiddled with the device, trying to dim the light. However, it was inevitable they would come across him if they were heading this way. There seemed no point in attempting to dim the only light.

"If anyone is in here, present yourself!"

As the Time Lord tried to shift his cold arms into a more comfortable position, the sudden tremor from the loud voice caused one of the rocks in the large pile to slip. It shifted the entire bulk of stone, increasing the pressure on his trapped foot. The Doctor was unable to keep a yell of pain restrained.

That was one way to present himself.

"Who's in here?!" one voice called in response to the pained yell, now much closer. "This is the chief from the southern camp, make yourself known!"

No point in keeping quiet now. The Doctor, now aware it was another group of Gelta'Divians, decided asking for help wasn't the worst thing he could do. Perhaps this was his chance for aid. He would more than likely have to work some charm on the group - at least he knew not to use any of his Judoon jokes.

"Any of you fella's ever s-shifted heavy rocks before?"

Even to him, his own voice sounded weak and feeble and he waited anxiously for a reply, trying to control his quivering jaw and the shivering from his skinny frame.

This was a different group of the native species, not the ones he had helped, so they would owe him nothing. He needed to be on his guard.

"I'm n-not a threat, I'm actually in a rather crushed-s-spot," he added, the footsteps growing ever closer until the large, bulky aliens finally appeared in the blue light of the sonic screwdriver. All five had sleek, golden spears drawn and were kitted in full armor. They must have been expecting a fight, but with what, the Doctor didn't know. They all looked similar to the group he had aided but the colouring of their armour was different - dark brown leather pads instead of overpowering grey.

"Hello, gents - am I g-glad to see some friendly faces around here! Just between us, these cave walls aren't much for conversa-"

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" The leader of the group bellowed, stepping forwards with the sharp end of his weapon only inches away from the Time Lord's face. The Doctor, unable to protect himself, tried to keep his brown eyes locked onto the blue orbs that were staring down at him. His friendly approach usually always calmed tensions but it couldn't work all the time, he thought.

"Well, if I told you that the northern camp asked for my h-help to track down an alien ball of energy that, upon exploding, caused a cave-in which now has me trapped since all the strapping big fellas I came with ran off without helping me... would you b-believe me?"

The alien cheif and the rest of the threatening group looked between one another, almost debating whether they should believe the thin man lying on the ground.

"Honestly, it's the truth... I was just here t-to help. Now, if you wouldn't mind helping moving these rocks I need to get back to my frie-"

"Silence!" the leader bellowed. To the Doctor's utter dismay, another creak from the rock pile echoed through the chasm and a boulder slipped from the very top. It crashed down near the leader, causing the group to jump back while also narrowly missing the Doctor's side. The Time Lord sighed in relief - or was he relieved? A simple cry for help seemed to be getting him nowhere and, at this rate, he would be crushed if he tried to reason with them any longer.

"P-please," he pleaded, now in a much softer tone, "I just need one of you to move a few rocks and I-I'll leave immediately. If this is your turf then take it up with the leader of the northern camp."

"This cave-in caused a tremor," the leader growled, restraining himself from interrupting the chatty, shivering man again, "it destroyed two of our buildings and nearly killed several of our warriors. We came in search of any culprits and we found you, an outsider. If you're partly responsible for this, then the punishment of our people is death.Your crime is certain and we will not take into account your off-world plea."

Right. Of course it would be death. No rainbows and sunshine present. Straight to the point.

"What?" the Doctor stated, "N-now hold on a second, I never intended for the cave to collapse, I w-was only trying to h-"

A firm kick to the face stopped his plea. The large, armour-clad foot smacked violently into what felt like the entirety of his face, throwing it back and causing horrible vibrations from the impact. Within seconds, droplets of blood escaped from the Doctor's nose and, with no strength to keep his posture defensive, let his whole upper body collapse from the impact of the kick, his face buried in rubble and his breathing raw.

Selfish, ignorant - now he could add violent to his ever-growing negative list.

"You have no say in this!" the leader declared. None of them took pity on the trapped man, nor had they listened to any of his pleas. The Doctor managed to keep one eye feebly looking up, the figures now blurred in the blue light as he tried to retain some of his dwindling focus.

"You... you c-cant do this," the Time Lord wheezed, unable to keep his jaw tremors at bay from the cold and pain, "I h-have r-rights, under the juri... jurisdiction of the Shadow Procla-AH!"

Another kick. This time, his ear caught the brunt force.

"What should we do with him? A quick death would perhaps be more efficient... it would shut him up quicker," one of the group suggested while another shook his head, ignoring the Time Lords wheezes and groans of discomfort.

"Maybe we should leave him to starve... he already appears to be near it."

"Silence - you all know the law. We came here to find the one guilty of the collapse and we found him. I carried out the sentence, it is I who follows through with it," the leader confided, "if the northern clan finds him, they will heed our warning. If what he says is even true."

For the second time that day, the Doctor had no plan. He couldn't run or even move. He couldn't plea for his life. He couldn't even use his most entrusted tool.

He couldn't save himself. And his hearts were now pumping with fear. Not just for himself.

But for Donna.

Read the rest over on AO3!

#yaaaas chapter 2 #i forgot how much i bloody love whumping ten #i want that twink obliterated #tenth doctor #donna noble #doctor who #ten x donna #my fic

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ohheyalex · 5 years

Text

the phone calls that never came//a dickkory fic

A/N: Hey so I was supposed to post this fic a couple weeks ago but tumblr was being annoying so i just uploaded it onto my AO3 account. And I kinda forgot to post it here too lmao but here it is. Also this was supposed to go on my titans blog but the gif wasn’t showing up and uh I wasn't willing to give that up lmao This does have some angst to it and I may be writing another part. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Summary: Kory and Dick are both on the same path to self discovery even though their journeys are separate for now, they can't seem to let go of each other completely.

She hadn’t heard from Dick in months and she doesn’t know how to feel about it to be honest. Her memories had begun to come in quicker since the fight with Trigon. Sometimes, she was fortunate enough to see the whole memory and other times Kory would just see flashes of her home planet. With each new thing she remembers, Kory seems to become more sure of herself. One thing she isn't set on is when or if she’ll go back to Dick and the kids. Kory hasn’t reached out either. Guilt slowly eats at her with each day that goes by that she hasn’t talked to Rachel, Gar and even Dick.

The mere thought of hearing his voice again makes her feel two things; fear and want. Fear of what the conversation could lead to or reveal and she isn’t ready for that just yet and want because she can’t help but be needy for him. Kory will probably never forget their first time, how gentle he was with her even though she’d seen him go postal on a guy a day prior. It shouldn't have been a shock to her with how mysterious he’s been since she’s met him but Dick was always finding ways to surprise her.

Kory isn’t sure of what she wants right now and that’s why she didn't go with him and the kids. She needed time to figure out who she is and what she had been through that past month since waking up in a totaled car left her at a complete loss of self. But she can’t say that she isn’t getting there.

“What are you thinking about?” Donna’s voice pierces through Kory’s thoughts.

Oh right they were looking over footage from surveillance cameras around the city. Kory brushed a hand through her hair but stops in fear of messing up the curls. That worry leaves as quick as it comes when she remembers that she no longer has her curly hair. It's now straight with a slight wave at the end for some oomph.

“Earth to Kory.” Donna waves a piece of beef and broccoli in her face.

Kory recovers fast, “Yea. So I was thinking we should look over the footage from 25th street until Sycamore Drive.”

The former Titan snorts, “Not what I asked but noted. Now tell me what’s going on in that alien head of yours.” Donna smirks. And Kory rolls her eyes at that quip but she knows it’s out of love. This friendship they’ve been able to forge has become the one thing Kory is certain about right now.

Kory pulls her hands from her lap and places them on the wood table in front of her. She starts to fiddle with the gold ring on her middle finger, she can’t help it.

Donna steals a piece of Kory’s orange chicken and plops it into her mouth while she waits for her to talk. She's learned that with Kory she’ll speak when she’s ready, there’s no need to push it out of her plus Donna wanted her to trust her. They ended up bonding over making fun of Dick when Donna pulled out some pictures from when he was a teenager.

“I don’t know I guess I just miss the kids.” Kory doesn’t have to see Donna’s face to know that she’s waiting for her to finish that sentence because even she knows that Kory has been thinking about him too. So Kory decides to vocalize it for the first time in three months, “And I miss Dick too.” That’s all she says and it doesn’t even touch the surface of what she’s feeling right now.

Donna nods while taking a sip of her beer, “Have you tried calling them?” And Kory just gives her a deadpan look. “Look there’s no shame in being the first one to call.” She offers thinking maybe that’s why Kory hasn’t gotten in contact.

She shakes her head, “No it’s not that. I’m just scared I guess of what the conversation will lead to. I don't know if I’m ready to talk to him. He hasn’t called either so maybe he doesn’t want to talk.” Kory shrugs, she’s trying to mask how she truly feels now but it doesn’t work. Donna sees right through it, “I doubt that. Don’t forget when I told you how whipped he sounded when we were following you to your ship a few months ago.” Kory can't help but laugh fondly at that, it made her happy to know that he had her back.

“Yea well I don't know if I’m ready to talk to him yet.” She stares at Donna and her eyes say everything for Kory. Donna takes another sip of her beer before giving Kory the best advice she could think of, “The only way you're going to get the answers to your questions is if you go to the source.”

Kory knows she’s right but it doesn't mean she’s going to do it.

San Francisco. 1 AM. Titans Tower

Dick can’t sleep.

He keeps tossing and turning every hour since he laid down at ten, he’s been trying to get into a routine again but it’s harder this time around. He thought about going into the training room and working out until he felt tired enough to sleep but then he runs the risk of waking up one of the kids. And he doesn’t want them worrying about him when they need to be focused on the lessons and what could come next.

After the tenth time he’s rolled over to a different corner of the king sized bed, he moves up to the headboard and plops down on his side. Dick’s thoughts are a jumbled mess of worries, fears and he’s started to think about her. He doesn’t want to, Dick doesn’t even want to delve into that part of his mind. He’s not ready to. Instead he focuses on how he walked into the kitchen a couple days ago and it was a complete disaster. The three teenagers had been laughing seconds prior to noticing that Dick had come back home early from the store.

Gar was the first to notice as he turned around to look into the reflective surface of the microwave, he caught sight of Dick. “Uh hey Dick!” He whipped around causing Rachel and Jason both to turn as well finally noticing him as he places a couple of bags onto the counter. He stacked three brooms and mops so that they’re leaning against one of the bar stools.

All he can do is laugh lightly at them, “Is my cooking that bad?”

“No it’s not that bad.” Raven says while flicking a piece of an egg shell off of her shoulder. He can tell she’s just being nice but of course leave it to Jason to be the honest one.

“Not bad? Rachel that cauliflower pizza wasn’t fucking edible! Look Dick I can’t do this, we gotta hire a chef. I can’t do anymore of your healthy cooking shit man.” Jason huffs and it makes Dick laugh.

“Here.” He gives Gar some cash, “Go get some lunch but not before you guys clean this place up.”

The three of them rush to the bags he brought as he goes to his room.

His phone buzzing on his side table brings him back to reality. It’s a text from Bruce, it’s about Jason of course. Just the usual question of how he’s doing and Dick let’s him know the young Robin’s progress. He’s still to quick to react with his fists but he’s trying is all Dick can really say. He knows that Jason just wants to go back to Gotham, he understands that he probably feels Bruce just dumped him off with Dick and maybe it seems that way. It doesn’t matter anyway Dick has learned that when Jason sets his mind on something, it’s hard for him to change it. He’ll still try though.

Dick sends out one more text before looking at the time. It’s been an hour and a half since he gave up on trying to sleep. He needs to fix this, he can’t be off his game right now because of the kids. They’re relying on him and Dick doesn’t want to let them down, he already did with Rachel and Gar. He shakes his head and forces his mind to not think about his previous failures, he has to move on and make amends.

His mind drifts again and this time he allows himself think of her. He rarely does, Dick knows it’s complicated for them both. He’s still trying to figuring out who he’s going to be now that he’s not Robin anymore. And she’s still remembering who she is and who she wants to be.

He wanted to give her space, if she wanted to come back then she would. It didn't mean that he didn't miss her. He does, he thinks about Kory every day. Dick just doesn’t say it out loud and who would he even talk to about Kory and his feelings for her? He’s not talking to the kids, that's out of the question. Dick hasn't spoken to Donna either, he knows what the Titans tower means to her and he doesn't want to burden her. Again, if she wanted to come back then that would have to be her decision. And Dick finds that his thoughts are just cycling each other because even though he misses the hell out of his best friend and this fascinating woman who he has developed these feelings for, he doesn’t want to pressure them.

So Dick decides to give them space because they need it and so does he. His emotions are sometimes hard to talk about but he’s getting better at it.

But then again maybe one phone call couldn’t hurt. His thumb clicks on the contacts icon on his phone and he scrolls until he gets to her name. Dick taps the contact and his thumb hovers over the call button. He can’t fucking do this, what is he even supposed to say?

'uh hey kory it’s dick, sorry for not calling you for three months, dick move huh.’

Dick rolls his eyes at his own awkwardness and his attempt at a joke. He’s glad that happened in his thoughts and no one was there to witness it, especially Kory.

He keeps his thumb over the call button for what seems like hours but is only fifteen minutes. Dick tosses his phone to the side and throws himself on the bed deciding on letting his fear of what could happen win for now. And funny for some reason now he feels like he can sleep, so he finally does and he hopes his dreams are only of a curly red haired beauty because that's the only way he's going to see her.

Chicago. 1 PM. Donna’s House.

Kory couldn’t sleep last night. A couple new memories had come back to her earlier that night and ever since then she’s been wide awake. Kory had the TV on with no sound on, she was content on listening to the rain just outside the window.

She had been going back and forth in her head on what she wanted to do. She missed the kids and Dick but she didn't know if she was done with exploring just yet. Plus if she went back, what would that mean for her and Dick? Kory takes two seconds before snatching her phone from the end of the bed and she scrolls through her contacts effortlessly landing on Dick’s.

Her thumb is inches from the screen, she’s almost there and all she has to do is push down. But she doesn’t, whatever courage she’s worked up vanishes as soon as it appeared and she throws her phone to the side. Kory crosses her arms and she can’t help but be upset with herself why can’t she just call him? A knock interrupts her next thought and before she can say come in, Donna walks in with a coffee cup in hand. “I found Shimmer. Well I got intel on where she’ll be. Come on, let’s go.” Donna starts tossing random pieces of Kory’s clothes that she just bought the other day at her.

Kory doesn’t move from her on spot on the bed, “Where are we going?”

Donna walks back to the entrance of the room and before she turns to leave she says, “A stake out.” She winks before leaving Kory to get dressed.

Yea maybe she’d call Dick after her and Donna caught Shimmer.

#titans #dickkory #donna troy #my writing

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procrastinating-story-writer · 5 years

Text

Bonds that Bind Us

Chapter Two:

Summary:

Connecting with someone is not necessarily a bond with a significant other, or even a friend, but can be the indefinable - perhaps the rarest and most precious thing in life to find at all.

Donna Lynn Hope

Loki sat puzzled as he observed his 'overseer' as she paced the room she called the sitting area. After Omidah quickly took himself and Thor to his designated floor, she dismissed his brother, told him to get comfortable, pulled out some sort of talking device and ignored him ever since.

Next he couldn't wrap him mind around the fact she was being nice to him or why she didn't seem to be the slightest uncomfortable around his presence, and why she looked excited the first time she looked his way. It was confusing and it made him angry.

Omidah on the other hand was trying to get Fury off the phone as quickly as possible but it seemed that her efforts were futile. She could feel Loki's aura of boredom; this was not how she wanted to leave a first impression (which won't really matter to the royal trickster either way but its the thought that counts at least).

"Pennwinkle are you even listening to me?" She rolled her eyes "what else could I be doing since you just keep talking"

"Don't sass me woman, I can revoke your privileges and have you confined to the tower."

"Do that and I'll tell everyone what happened in Fiji."

"You wouldn't dare!

"Try me boss." She said in a sing song voice.

Fury started grumbling profanities under his breath. "Just keep me informed about your progress." Fury hung up.

Omidah moved the phone as the dial tone came on, watched the screen blankly and gave a small yet audible snarl. "Did that chili eating mother--ass just hang up on me!? I see. Alright Fury, we'll see who has more balls than the other."

Sticking the phone into her pocket, she turned her attention back to Loki. His facial expression was neutral but his eyes showed anger. Just great.

"I'm really sorry about that. My boss just doesn't know when to shut up."

Loki did not answer her. He got up, made his way to the shelves of books and picked out one, then returned to the couch. Omidah smiled at his choice 'William Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice' she loved that one.

"Are you hungry?" Silence

"Is there anything I can get you as you wallow in silence?" More silence.

"Have you always been so reticent? It will do you no good to just sit there and ignore me. I just want to help."

"Then don't mortal. You're very annoying."

"Is that the best insult you got? I already know I'm a mortal wise arse; you can do better than that your lordship. Come on throw another insult." Omidah's voice was dripping with sarcasm and a wide smile was on her face as she looked at Loki.

Loki on the other hand grew angry at her taunt and slammed the book shut.

"What's the matter God of Mischief, no come back? I must say this is a let down. Wuss."

Loki quickly walked towards the annoying female with murderous intent and grabbed her upper arms, lifting her off the ground.

"For the death of Odin, what is your problem you mewling quim!? Do you wish for me to destroy you? Do you have any idea who I am and what I can do to you?"

Omidah continued to smile as she looked into Loki's breathtaking blue-green eyes. Just being elevated at his eye level, she leaned in her face and planted a quick kiss on Loki's nose; giggling as she moved away.

All of Loki's anger vanished and replaced by utter confusion.

The look on Loki's face caused Omidah to burst into a fit of giggles. The sound spreading throughout the room, filling it and caused Loki's heart to do a weird flip but he quickly pushed it aside.

"I'm really sorry, I don't mean to be so happy but its just that, believe it or not, I've always wanted to do that if I ever got the change to meet you.

It's so good to finally say that I can scratch that off my bucket list; kiss the God of mischief on the nose." She said matter of factly.

Loki gave her that 'I-truly-believe-you're-really-dumb' kind of look.

"Now Loki are you hungry? I'm sure you haven't eaten a full course meal in quite some time and I'm happy to cook for you if you'd let me."

Loki just continued to watch the strange girl he was holding, trying to find something, anything, that would reveal if she was playing him for a fool; there was absolutely no way any sane person, who knows of his reputation would be happy to do anything with him. Alas, he could find nothing but pure glee in her hazel eyes.

"Come on Loki, as much as I enjoy looking into your eyes, I too am hungry. So, can you please put me down, lasagna is calling out to me."

Finally able to register her words, he slowly placed her down "What game are you playing mortal?"

Omidah arched a brow at his sudden question "I don't understand the question. If you're referring to why I'm not afraid of you, it's because I'm not."

"But you are aware of the things I've done or of the people I've killed on this pathetic planet, have you not?"

She could hear the irritation in his voice, whether it be from the realization that he is now on said planet he caused havoc or something else entirely, she wasn't sure.

"Yes, I'm fully aware of all that you've done and what you're capable of doing but I can't comprehend what that has to to with, why I can't be nice to you or simply talk to you." Sighing she crossed her arms and gave him her full attention.

"I want you to fully understand something. My world has people in it that has done a lot of bad things to good people, some still continue to do so. I work for an organization that kills those type of people and my hands are stained with the blood of a few.

"Everyone in this tower has killed someone, whether it's to save the lives of people, revenge, brashness and cockiness or in your case trying to concur this world. The reason you're labeled the 'bad guy' its because you chose to be all flashy about it; making yourself a spectacle, parading in front a crowd of people who recorded you and post it around the world and to put the cherry on top the ice cream Sunday, you went and brought an alien army through a large hole in the sky, attacking one of the largest cities in the world." Omidah let out a sigh.

"Look all I'm trying to say is, no one's a saint in this place, we all have our reasons for doing what we do. I just don't want you feel like you're the only screw up. The others may or may not be judgmental towards you and I know you won't give a dam but I want you to know that I'll be looking out for you, Okay?"

Loki snickered "I don't need a mere mortal to look out for me."

"Well you really don't have much of a choice. I'll be looking out for you whether you like it or not, plus you really shouldn't think little of us mortals, we can surprise you. Have you never heard the saying, don't underestimate your opponent? Now if you don't mind, please follow me so I can prepare dinner."

With that she turned on her heels and headed towards the elevator, which opened automatically for her.

Loki stepping in after her, each opposite the other.

"Good evening miss Penwinkle and Mr. Laufeyson, where can I take you."

Omidah smiled "J.A.R.V.I.S, good evening to you too and please call me Omidah, the formality is too much."

"If you wish miss."

"Thank you, will you please take us to the main lounge? I'm going to prepare dinner."

"I see. The others will be quite excited about dinner; would you like me to notify them the moment you've finished?"

"Sure that would be great, thank you."

At the end of the short conversation, they arrived at the desired floor.

"Your stop miss. Have a good evening."

Omidah chuckled realizing he's never going to address her by her first name.

"Thanks a lot JARVIS. Catch you later. Come on Loki, this is going to be so much fun."

Loki scoffed at her enthusiasm as they passed the seating area and headed into the large kitchen.

"I fail to see how cooking is fun. Its a maids' chore if you ask me."

Taking no offense, Omidah tied her hair with chopsticks and put on her apron.

"Just have a seat on the bar stool and here,"

Taking a book from behind her back, she placed it in-front for him. Loki realized it was the same book he took from the shelves earlier. How did she get it without him noticing?

"I've been told you love to read, so I organized for that library to be on your floor and while I prepare dinner this will help you pass the time."

Loki couldn't figure her out; She was strange. Then he saw her remove her footwear and placed them by the door of the kitchen; he was more puzzled.

Omidah saw his puzzled look as she returned back into the kitchen; she chuckled.

"This is something I do when I prepare meals; it warns everyone who walks into the lounge that I'm in the kitchen. I like cooking with no disturbances.....well unless I invite anyone. Now time to get to work."

"Why would you do something so trivial? It makes no sense."

She headed into the pantry and returned to the island, placing the ingredients onto it "as I stated earlier it's to warn the others. I started preparing dinner about two years ago because I strongly believe we here at the tower are a family and family should have home cooked meals."

Loki rolled his eyes and continued to read but still listened on

"So three months after I started cooking, Tony decided to be real jerk. I decided to make chocolate fondue and an assortment of treats in which you can dip into the chocolate; anyways Tony was drunk from the previous day, having thrown one of his extravagant parties. I turn my back for 10 minutes and when I returned Tony was face flat in the fondue, chocolate was splattered all over the kitchen walls, all the assortment s were gobbled down; it was a disaster."

Loki watched as she moved back and forth,

"Oh how wonderful it was to make him pay for wasting rich chocolate but that's a tale for another time"

Loki scoffed, "So do you have anything in particular you like to eat?" She asked.

Loki looked up from his book and watched as she mixed some contents in a bowl, while periodically blowing strands of hair from her face.

"None that you should concern yourself with,"

"Aww come on, I'm curious to know, so that way I can add your preferred dishes to the dinner menu."

Loki didn't like the feeling he was getting when she made that statement; she was showing an genuine interest in him and it felt weird. He decided not to respond to her and continued reading.

A comfortable silence fell between them and the only sound that emanated from the kitchen was the clanking of pots and pans. As some time passed, Loki would periodically glance at her from behind his book, making sure not to get caught.

"Here you go Loki" Omidah said while placing a small plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of him. Loki lowered his book and eyed the cookies with suspicion

"If you think they're poisoned, then think again. I like you, so i have no intentions of harming you in anyway."

Loki ignored what she said to try and subdue the feeling in his chest. He refused to take her words literally; no one cared about him and he had to keep reminding himself of that.

"How did you makes these so fast?"

Omidah smiled "we've been in here for well over an hour now. Dinner is almost done and I'm now preparing to clean up. Plus I tend to bake goodies first before doing the actual cooking."

Loki looked at the cookies and back at Omidah who already turned away to start cleaning up.

Cautiously he picked up one and bit into it. Loki suppressed a groan; he had never eaten a cookie that tasted so divine. The chocolate melted on his tongue, sending a tingling sensations to his taste buds. The texture was soft, fluffy-like but was still solid. It was one satisfying cookie.

Within a matter of minutes the entire plate was cleared and he let out a satisfying sigh. The sound of the timer was set off almost simultaneous and when he looked in Omidah's direction, she was removing dishes from the oven and quickly rushing to set the table.

He was surprised that she cooked so many dishes in such a short period of time. He wondered if they tasted as good as they looked and smelt.

"Hey Loki are you comfortable eating with the others around or would you like to go back to your floor?"

He scoffed "I refuse to dine with incompetent mortals."

Omidah puffed her cheeks like a little child and pouted.

"You're not fun Loki, I really wanted to see how well you work under pressure. Oh well, I'll prepare a plate for you in a few."

Before he could respond to her statement, Tony entered the kitchen with a glass of scotch.

"Hey river Nile, what's cooking good looking?"

"Tony Stark, what have I told you about coming into the kitchen when I'm cooking! Do you want a repeat of what happened the last time you were in here?"

Loki observed the two conversing and how sudden Tony became nervous; beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Just what did she do to him to cause such a reaction?

"Ah-am I'll just be in the lounge. Sorry Omidah." With that Tony quickly walked out.

Loki continued to observe the young woman as she finished setting the table. He was still trying to figure her out. Being able to analyse someone and tell the type of person they are was a specialty of his but with her it was somewhat difficult.

"Jarvis can you let everyone know that dinner is ready. Thank you."

"Absolutely miss."

Omidah continued to move around the kitchen, ensuring that everything was in order. Tony decided to stick his head through the kitchen door.

"Hey, did I hear something about dinner? Don't mind if I do."

Omidah sighed 'He is a sucker for punishment.' "Sure Tony come on in. Have a seat and wait for the others. I'm going to fix a plate for Loki."

Tony chuckled "let me guess, Reindeer Games thinks we're beneath him and chooses to dine alone."

Loki shot Tony glare and boy if looks could kill, Tony would have dropped dead by the one Loki was giving him now.

Completely ignoring him, Tony moved to the bar and poured himself a drink

"So what's on tonight's menu Omidah?" She smiled

"Egyptian cuisine. Remember I promised everyone I'd try something new every few months...."

Tony nodded "well I decided to cook dishes from my distant home land. I hope you guys like it. Please ask the others to send me their feedback."

Tony looked at her perplexed "wait a minute, aren't you joining us tonight?"

She shook her head as she continued her task "not tonight tin can. I wish to keep Loki company before I start my training."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that the mission would cause them to see less of her now that she had to watchman Loki but he wasn't expecting it so soon; he didn't like it.

Omidah laughed at Tony's antics "oh stop being dramatic, sharing is caring. You guys had me all to yourselves for these past few years, now allow me to delegate my time to someone else.

And before you say anything else, I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere, just that you'll see less of me from time to time. So behave and exercise some patience."

Tony walked over to her and ruffled her hair "You're right, just a bit paranoid."

Omidah quickly hugged him "best cousin ever. Thanks tin can."

Removing herself from Tony's embrace she returned to her task. After packing enough food and what she believed would full the Asgardian, packaged everything in a bag.

"All done. Come on Loki we'll eat dinner on your floor. See you later Tony."

Loki watched as she bounced happily out the room before quietly following behind her.

Tony on the other hand was puzzled and quickly pulled out his phone to call the others. There were a few things that needed to be discussed.

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki (marvel)#mcu #introduction #tony stark #jarvis

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raywritesthings · 6 years

Text

Still Couldn’t Hide, Coda

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: Donna and the Doctor both say a little too much. Now with 100% more happy ending. AO3 link

Unknown to the Doctor, Donna had developed an interesting habit during the year they had spent apart and she had decided to look for him now that her eyes had been opened to the wider universe. And it all came down to her pesky habit of missing stuff.

Notes, copious amounts of notes. Anything she thought odd, anything that seemed important, she took down. It was how they’d ended up solving the situation on Messaline, after all. Otherwise she’d have clean missed that.

Donna knew herself well, and one thing about herself was that when she got drunk, she got drunk. The kind of drunk that let a person miss an alien invasion or two. It was something she’d been working on, and she hardly ever indulged in that sort of behavior any longer.

But just in case, whenever Donna went out for a night, she was sure to take notes before she let herself drift off to sleep and forgetfulness in the morning. So, once Spaceman was out the door that night, that was exactly what she did.

Which was why Donna woke to a piece of paper stuck to her cheek with drool that said in her much less tidy than usual scrawl, Doctor loves me, Space Vegas to-morrow.

“...what the hell?”

The TARDIS was kind enough to bring her lights up just enough to spot the space aspirin that she wasn’t sure whether the ship or Spaceman himself had supplied. Donna gulped both down and sighed in relief as the pounding in her head receded.

The missive she’d written herself, however, remained the same.

“Oh, this is gonna be so shaming,” Donna muttered to herself. What had she gone and said last night? Or perhaps more importantly, what had he said?

Donna stared hard at those first three words. She must have gotten it muddled somehow. But then what had really happened?

There was only one other soul on the TARDIS, one person who would have that answer. So Donna heaved herself out of bed, stuffed her feet into her slippers, shrugged on a robe and went in search of a Spaceman.

“Doctor? Doctor!”

“In the kitchen!”

She found him busy at the stove with a skillet, and he shot her a dazzling smile over his shoulder. Was that the sort of smile of a man in love? He looked just the same as always.

“There she is. Thought you could do with a spot to eat, get something else in your stomach.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Donna mumbled, dropping into a chair. How was she going to bring this up without making a fool of herself?

The Doctor must have read something in her unenthusiastic reply, for he frowned and asked, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen,” she paused a moment more, then continued, “we’re not heading to Space Vegas today, are we?”

The effect was comical. The Doctor nearly dropped the skillet he’d been carrying over right onto his foot, and he gaped at her for a long moment before his mouth snapped shut. “Um, no,” he squeaked. “Why- why would you think that?”

“Cos I wrote myself a reminder about it,” she confessed, taking the note out of her robe pocket and sliding it across the table. She watched his eyes scan it and go wide, his skin somehow turning even more pale. “Sorry. That was probably just a bunch of gibberish, wasn’t it? Something I made up.”

Spaceman’s hand went up to tug on his ear. Donna’s eyes narrowed.

He coughed and said, “Er, yeah, probably.”

When he looked up and met her stare, she saw him visibly deflate. The Doctor scooped bacon and eggs onto her plate, then wandered back over to the sink with the skillet. He started washing it, all without another word.

“Doctor. Hey, what’s going on?”

He shut off the water, standing with his back to her for a moment. Then he turned and walked back over, throwing himself into the chair opposite.

“Nothing. Well, not Space Vegas — you were keen to go, but I reckon you’ve thought twice about it.”

“But — then I was right, about what I wrote,” she began haltingly. “You said…”

“Yep,” he answered the sentence she wasn’t able to finish.

Donna stared at the Doctor. The Doctor stared more at her left ear than at her face, looking supremely uncomfortable about the whole thing. “What would you say that for?”

Maybe it had just been to shut her up — God, she’d probably given the whole game away, and this was a goodbye breakfast before she got dumped back at her mum’s for breaking the rules—

“Because it was...true?”

It was her turn to gape. “I’m still drunk.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, because how else would this be happening? You’d never be saying that if I was sober!”

The Doctor sighed. “No. No, I wouldn’t, and I shouldn’t have said it to you drunk. I suppose I was counting on you forgetting—”

“Because it was a lie?” Oh God, he’d been planning to give her a free pass on whatever she’d let slip, and she’d gone and ruined it by taking notes.

“No, because I didn’t want you to be upset with me,” he corrected.

“What would I be upset for?”

“For me breaking the rules,” he answered plainly. “I do love you, Donna, and I said I wouldn’t. Should’ve known from the minute you said ‘Planet of the Hats’ that was a fool’s hope. Maybe I did know. Maybe that’s why I said anything at all.” His voice grew quieter and quieter into mumbles, and his gaze landed on the table as he propped his chin on a hand. “I promised no complicated, and I went and made it complicated. Oh, blimey.”

Donna was still stuck on the words I do love you, Donna being said by the Doctor in that exact order. He was mad, madder than she’d ever thought him, if he really felt that way. It took her another minute to wrench her thoughts to the current matter at hand. “Doctor…”

“It’s alright.” He sniffed once and made to leave the table, but Donna reached out and snagged his hand.

“No, it isn’t. You thought I’d be upset?”

He looked at her finally with those big, brown eyes. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but not for — not why you’re thinking. Look, I said it, too, didn’t I? I must’ve, you wouldn’t have said it on your own,” Donna decided. A rueful quirk of his lips told her she was right. “I’m the one who wanted Space Vegas! You think I’d have said that to just anyone drunk?”

Anyone else in her life would’ve taken the opportunity that granted, but the Doctor said, “No.”

“Right, so, what do you think that means?” Donna found herself holding her breath once it was asked, not sure whether to let his hand go or not. Spaceman was looking at it, the two of them joined together.

“You...love me, too?” His eyes flicked up to hers for a moment.

“Well, d’uh,” she said, her voice a little too soft and shy to have the usual effect. Donna could feel her cheeks heating up, and the Doctor smiled as she squeezed his hand once and then let go. Donna rubbed her hands over her thighs, a nervous energy expelled at the admission. How had she even said it? How had it not meant the end of the universe?

Neither of them seemed capable of looking at each other for long. For something to do, Donna picked up her fork at last and took a bite of egg. She placed it down again almost immediately.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I mean, it just sort of got cold,” she said. “While we were talking.”

“Oh.”

“You haven’t eaten either, have you,” she realized. “You know I don’t believe all that ‘Time Lords need less food’ rubbish.”

“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “Alright.” The Doctor stood, taking her plate and scraping the food into the trash before dropping it into the sink as well. “We’ll get breakfast out.”

There was a question in there he was asking, and Donna very much wanted to answer it. But first she had to check, “Not Space Vegas, though, right?”

He grinned, giving a single shake of the head. “Right.”

“Then yeah, we’ll do that.” Donna stood up. “I mean, I know what I must have said last night, but I’m in no rush. Not making the same mistakes like with Lance.”

“Oh, but Donna, we’ve known each other for almost two years,” the Doctor pointed out as he followed her into the corridor. “That’s not so bad.”

“Oi, Time Boy, don’t push your luck.”

Maybe she owed her drunk self a favor, but she wasn’t about to start taking advice from her!

#doctor x donna #ten x donna #donna noble #tenth doctor #doctor who #the doctor #my writing

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timeisweird · 6 years

Text

The Dangers Of Allowing Gossip Onboard

“Yeah well, that’s what I’m for, I guess. Got the badge and everything.”

In which the TARDIS has some fun, Donna thinks of some brilliant ideas, and the Doctor gets a gift from a friend long since gone.

(thanks to @genocidaltheta and @tinyscoop for the inspiration and allowing me to write fics based on our discord conversations!)

It starts off innocently enough - Well no, it doesn’t. It starts off as a way for Donna to talk to someone about the Doctor, someone who properly understands the absurdities of life aboard the TARDIS, before soon developing into something like a gossip circle. So really, it starts out with Donna mocking the Doctor.

She’s sitting in the console room, finishing her cuppa as she waits for the Doctor. For all they complained about her bringing half her wardrobe onboard, they certainly cared a lot about their own appearance. “Bloody alien can’t spend less than an hour on their hair,” she mumbles to herself, before downing the last bit of her tea.

There’s a mechanical whirring, and Donna looks up to see the time rotor piston once, twice - for a worrying second, she thinks the TARDIS has decided to take a little day trip while the Doctor is held up - before falling silent again.

Donna sets her cup down on the ground. “Now what’d you go and do that for?”

It’s a rhetorical question; sure, the Doctor has claimed many times that the TARDIS is alive, and she believes them, especially with the way doors tend shift around so that the library’s right there when you need it, or when she catches the Doctor in a quiet moment, softly talking to the ship as they tinker with the controls.

So it’s a bit of a surprise when she gets an answer in the form of a soft beeping from the console, and a - well, she can only describe the feeling as a brush against her consciousness. A gentle touch, filled with laughter and agreement.

She startles at first, then laughs as she realizes what’s going on. “How long have you had to put up with that ridiculous git? Poor thing.”

The conversation continues like that, her going on about whatever’s on her mind, and the TARDIS responding with a careful mixture of robotic bleeping, whirs, and mental nudges.

It ends up becoming a routine of sorts, the two of them talking - if you could call it that. On Thursdays (or whenever Donna decides to say it’s a Thursday. Time is meaningless in the TARDIS, after all) she takes up residence in the console room with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits, and chats with the TARDIS as the Doctor’s off doing who-knows-what in the science lab or the library, or whatever room managed to pique his interest for more than a half hour.

This particular day, Donna has gotten up early (or she likes to think she has) and is sitting in the console room once more. Their conversations have developed the tendency to stray towards the Doctor - or at least, whatever ridiculous thing they managed to do. In all, it reminds her of the girls’ night out she would have with her friends back in Chiswick, where they went around talking about their partners. Both the good and the bad, of course.

This time, it had been quoting Spongebob . “And, and they said,” Donna went on, mimicking the Doctor’s tenor the best she could, “ ‘The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma’ and then I was like, ‘Hold on a minute, did you just quote a children’s cartoon ?’ ”

A couple of lilting beeps answer her, but before she can think about what they mean, there’s a distressed “Oi!” from the right of her, and she turns to see the Doctor walking into the console room, looking at the time rotor like it personally insulted them.

She has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing anymore - the look on their face!

“I suppose this is one of those Thursdays, now isn’t it?” the Doctor asks as they cross the room over to the TARDIS console. There’s a brief moment of confusion on Donna’s end as to how they know, before she remembers - this had been one of the things she had brought up when they were stuck in jail together.

“Now Donna,” the Doctor says solemnly, though Donna can see the smirk on their face as they start working the controls. “I don’t expect you to understand the complexities of a Time Lord’s bond with their TARDIS - but you ,” they address the TARDIS, “ought to know better.”

“And besides,” they start conversationally as the TARDIS lands with a thump . “Shouldn’t I be asking how you recognized a quote from a children’s cartoon, Miss ‘I only watch quality shows like Project Runway and shows that haven’t even been released in my time’? They look over at her with a smug grin.

“Oi! Stranger Things is good. That poor girl, y’know?” She retorts, and before they know it, they’re up to their shoulders in an plot to take over some poor moon, one that involves a soda bottle-making factory and a very determined pair of glass robots.

Later, Donna walks into her bedroom - fresh from the showers, dressed in recently-laundered clothes, and thankfully clean of whatever alien oil they use for weird glass robots - to find a small piece of metal laying on her bed.

She picks it up, examines the shield-shaped object - a badge of sorts. Engraved in the gold metal is “Captain of the DRGWLT Crew.” There’s no hint as to what the acronym stands for, nor as to who left it on her bed.

Once again, there’s a gentle brush against her consciousness - it happens rarely enough to startle her each time - and suddenly Donna understands the badge.

And then she bursts out laughing.

“‘The - the Doctor is a Ridiculous Git but We still Love Them’ Crew?” she eventually manages, in between gasps for breath. There’s a warm hum from the TARDIS. Oh, she has got to show this to the Doctor - but not too soon! Let them notice it themselves.

When she walks into the console room after a nap, she makes sure that the badge is in plain sight, pinned neatly to the lapel on her jacket.

The Doctor doesn’t notice at first - in fact, they don’t notice until both of them are on an alien planet, purple skies and incredibly clear water, flora and fauna that all wear different shades of cool colors. It’s absolutely gorgeous and takes her breath away for a multitude of reasons.

So, it’s a shame that the Doctor’s currently trying to get her to waterboard down a rushing river - on a tree branch ! Well, more of a log really, but that’s not the point. Of all the possible things they could do here, such as have a nice picnic, or go on a hike, or oh, I don’t know, not drown horribly in a rafting accident--

“Come on, it’s traditional!” they enthuse as they drag her towards the river. “All the natives of Caprala do it. A rite of passing, of sorts. Still, completely open to offworlders, don’t worry.”

“Then how come no one’s doing it right now?” It’s a valid question, and definitely not just an attempt to distract them long enough for her to rescue her arm from their solid grip. The waterside is completely empty, devoid of life, native or offworlder.

“It’s probably just the off-season,” they reasoned.

“Oh no we don’t,” she snaps, digging her heels into the soft ground. That gets them to stop. They look back at her, the confusion on their face turning into concern as they wonder what Donna’s doing. “Come on, haven’t you noticed? There’s nothing here. You said it yourself, a while back - There should be dozens of animals around us. Kilometres of forests and rivers, and yet, I haven’t seen a single living thing besides me and you.” She manages to play it off like she hadn’t just noticed a second before she opened her mouth, and that’s something she feels quite proud about.

The Doctor’s mouth forms a little oh of surprise, before they break out into a eerily wide grin. “Oh brilliant! Brilliant Donna Noble!” They drop her hand and reach into their suit pocket to take out the sonic screwdriver. Immediately, they begin a scan of the surroundings.

She allows herself a smile. “Yeah well, that’s what I’m for, I guess. Got the badge and everything.”

“The badge?” They ask absently, fiddling with the sonic’s settings, before looking at her properly. “What do you mean, the badge?”

It’s an odd thing for them to focus on, she thought. But, it did give her an excuse to flaunt her TARDIS-given gift. She showed them her lapel. “This badge. Found it on my bed this morning. Apparently it’s for...” she faltered. What was she gonna tell them? “Well--”

She’s cut off by the Doctor groaning, “Oh, not this again! I told her…” they trail off into disgruntled muttering as they pocket the sonic and head back towards the TARDIs, leaving Donna standing next to a rushing river, blinking in confusion.

She jogs to catch up. They’ve already managed to cover most of the distance back to the ship - Dr. Long Legs is more like it, she thinks. “What?” she asks once she’s side-by-side with the Doctor again. “What’s wrong with the badge?”

“Nothing’s wrong with the badge,” they say. “Perfectly nice badge. Quality metal, neat lettering, all around perfectly nice badge. It’s just well, the TARDIS likes to give them out to my companions sometimes - thinks it’s funny, she does. Evelyn had one. Peri did too, I think. Martha got hers almost right off the bat, before I even decided to let her stay onboard as a proper passenger.” They ramble like that for a bit, not letting her get a word in until they’re both back at the TARDIS.

The Doctor throws the doors open and rushes up to the console. Donna follows, curiosity piqued. They’re obviously looking for something amidst the controls, but what? “Aha!” they exclaim like a parent catching a child with their hand in the cookie jar. They grab at something.

She peers over their shoulder - it’s another badge, identical to the one on her lapel.

The Doctor’s pulling at the badge now, trying to get it to unstick from the console. “Now, come on old girl, you’ve had your fun, you can - stop - mocking - me - now,” they punctuate their words with a tug, resting their foot against the console and pushing off.

Donna leans against a coral strut and crosses her arms, waiting for the inevitable.

Predictably, their hands slip off the smooth metal, and they end up toppling backwards and falling on their arse. With their fall, they let out a rather undignified squawk of alarm. The Doctor takes a moment to breath, resting against the grating, before sitting up and looking at Donna. “I deserved that, didn’t I?”

She can’t help but chuckle. “Why don’t you like the badges?”

They rub against their neck. “Well, it’s not much fun having your own timeship - and your friends! - calling you a ridiculous git, now is it?”

She sits down on the crash seat, watches them as they get to their feet and dust themselves off - Not that there’s any need to, really. “I don’t think she means it like that. It does say ‘we still love them’ right in the name. And last I checked, the them refers to you.”

They pout for a few minutes, fiddling with the TARDIS controls, but Donna can tell that they don’t really mean it. Something about the way they throw levers and push buttons - she’s seen them when they’re really down, as much of an understatement that is.

Then, with a spin, the Doctor turns to Donna to say, “Right! So, I’ve detected massive particle matter traces from that planet, and no major life forms besides flora and bacteria, you were right. I’ve got a few working theories, of course, but do you think you’re up for a bit of investigating, Donna Noble?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do I even have to answer that?”

Next Thursday, which is coincidentally the day after they managed to save a large assortment of Capralan animals from a intergalactic smuggling ring, finds Donna once again in the console room. The Doctor’s out looking for spare parts for the TARDIS, and Donna couldn’t find any desire to stand around in a greasy mechanic’s shop while two blokes haggle over prices.

She’s currently trying to get Netflix to stream on the monitor, but all she seems to be getting is alien soap operas - without any translation or subtitles, either. Maybe the screen in her room would be better, or maybe the TARDIS is just messing with her again.

For a second, she thinks it’s working as a video pops up and starts to play - but no, it’s a recording. Of the console room, nonetheless. When was this taken? And where? She glances around the room, but doesn’t see any cameras.

Donna turns her attention back to the monitor. On the screen, the Doctor has just rushed into the console room, headed straight for the controls. And then there’s her , following them.

It’s from yesterday, she realizes, when she had told the Doctor about the badges.

And then , she realizes the purpose of this video. Specifically, she realizes when she watches the Doctor fall flat on their arse. It ends abruptly, just before the Doctor speaks after sitting up.

“Did you seriously record this for the laughs?” She asks the room. The video plays again, and she takes that as a solid yes. Maybe she should send this to Martha, she’d get a kick out of this. Or maybe she could just hang on to it, save it for a rainy day.

And that’s when she gets the idea.

“D’you have a - camcorder somewhere?” Donna asks.

---

Whenever the Doctor is alone - whether their traveling companion is sleeping, out visiting family, or gone - they tend to tinker with the TARDIS console. Sometimes for days on end, if no one stops them.

The Doctor’s been doing a lot of tinkering as of late.

There’s something wrong with the multi-spatial resonance chips. Well, there had been. They fixed it hours ago, but it never hurts to be thorough, does it?

A beeping sounds from above where the Doctor lay below the console, stripped wires and chunks of circuitry surrounding them.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get it in a minute,” the Doctor mutters for the nth time. Just some distress signal or odd time trace the TARDIS discovered - They’ve a time machine, it doesn’t matter when they answer it.

The beeping sounds again - even more urgent and annoyed this time, if beeping could sound annoyed. They try to ignore it for some time, but eventually the incessant noise gets to them, and they give in.

The Doctor tosses aside their spanner carelessly. “Fine! Fine, fine, you win. What is it now?” In a moment, they’re on their feet, pulling the monitor around.

There’s no distress signal, no temporal distortion, nothing of concern.

Just a datafile on the screen, a video to be precise, ready to be played.

Despite their earlier reluctance, the Doctor has to admit: their interest is piqued.

They hit play.

A person is shown lying on a couch amidst an expansive library, book resting on their chest. Their head is resting dangerously close to the edge. “I don’t think I’ve ever caught you asleep,” a feminine voice whispers off-camera. “Well, properly asleep. Once you took a cat nap when you were under the console repairing some whatsit. But I didn’t have my camera then, so--” They break off into a gasp.

The camera switches around to face the woman abruptly. There’s a mischievous look on her face as she holds back her laughter.

The video cuts forward. The person on the couch is much closer now, only a few feet away from the camera. The camera woman deliberately holds up an air horn, whispers, “this is for all those times you interrupted my beauty sleep with some crash landing or whatever” and presses the button.

Another cut of the tape shows a shaky view of the camera woman’s face, laughing hysterically as she runs away. In the back, her friend can be seen running after her, rubbing their head. “Donna!” they shout. The woman laughs louder.

The scene switches to a jittering view of a masculine-presenting person in a blue suit. Their hand fiddles with the camera’s settings for a moment, before they switch it around, giving the camera a good view of the inside of a refrigerator. There’s a pint of milk, coffee creamer, various produce of a multitude of colors, a few tupperwares of leftover cooking - some with sticky notes attached to them - jars of sauces and other bottles.

Every single item has been fitted with a pair of googly eyes.

The camera person sets the camera down inside the fridge, aiming it back towards themselves. They give it a wink and two thumbs up before shutting the door. The lights click off.

The video must cut forward, because only a second passes before they click on again - though this time, the person opening the door is a woman in a fluffy purple bathrobe.

She glances around the fridge for a moment, before stilling. Her mouth drops open slightly, mouthing the word ‘what’ a couple of times. And then she catches eye of the camera, and realization dawns on her face.

“Doctor,” she says, addressing the camera. “You are the weirdest person I have ever met.”

The door shuts on the camera, leaving it plunged in darkness. A slightly muffled “Doctor!” can be heard, and a moment later, loud laughter.

The scene switches once more, this time to a large expanse of grey concrete. Various different formations can be seen, dips and hills, a tunnel, stairs with railings. A skate park.

The camera is aimed at a person in a trench coat and dark shades, who stands on the edge of a half pipe. On their feet are sneakers - Heelys, to be precise - and they roll back and forth on the soles impatiently.

“Okay… now!” A feminine-sounding voice says off-camera.

The person gives the camera a thumbs up, before pushing off from the edge. They yell in joy as they skate down the concrete on their shoes, but the yell quickly turns into a surprised shout as they trip, stumble, and fall about three quarters of the way down.

They land in a heap at the lowest point of the half pipe with a groan.

For a moment, everything is silent. Only the camera woman’s bated breath and the song of nearby birds can be heard.

Then the person breaks out laughing.

“That was brilliant! ” they shout, pushing themselves up onto their elbows, still laughing. The camera woman zooms in on their friend, who’s beaming away.

Then the camera shakes as she joins in.

The scene changes. A hand pushes past the thick green foliage of a jungle as the recorder walks forward, following a masculine-presenting person who, against all better judgement it seems, is wearing a suit and a trench coat in the hot climate.

The person turns around, a big grin on their face. There’s only a hint of sweat on their face. “Come on, Donna. Not far now.” Then, there’s a look of confusion as their eyes meet the camera. “What’s that for, then?”

“Oh, you know. Memories, fun, all that jazz,” a voice replies off-camera.

The grin returns not a moment later, just before the person faces the jungle again. “All right then. Now, the source of the signal should be just over--” They break off suddenly, freezing in place.

The camera shakes a bit as the camerawoman stumbles to a stop, narrowly avoiding her friend. “Oi, watch where you’re going, Doctor!”

They shush her gently as they stoop low to the ground, focused on something just off to the right of the path they’ve been cutting. “Oh, hello there,” they say softly.

The camera stoops as well as the camerawoman searches for whatever had caught the person’s interest. “What? What is it?”

The person shuffles around on their feet, still crouched, and looks at the camerawoman - not the camera itself. Something’s cupped in their hand, and there’s a big grin on the person’s face.

“Look Donna,” they say, unfurling their hands to reveal a small tree frog, pigments of bright blue streaked across its black skin. “How brilliant is that?”

“Oh, a frog,” the voice off-camera says, dead-pan.

The person rolls their eyes and pushes their hands towards the camera woman. “But look at the pigmentation! How striking. Generally, it’s used to warn off any predators looking for a quick snack - indicative of toxicity, you see -- Oh.” The person stills, looking down at the frog in their hands.

There's a pause. “Doctor,” the camerawoman warns. “Don’t tell me you just poisoned yourself.”

They give an awkward chuckle. “Oh, well, you know how it is, you want to show someone the wonders of Earth’s jungles, and you end up poisoned by a dart frog.” They blink and look down at their hands. “I must say, the poison’s pretty fast-acting--”

“Stop blabbering, you idiot, and drop the frog!” A hand reaches out to hit their arm, making them drop the frog, which hops away, startled. The camerawoman also startles as the frog passes her by. “Oh my God, are you gonna die?”

“Die?” The person repeats, incredulous. “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, most certainly not .” As they ramble, their words start to slur slightly. “Me, die from a little dart frog? Ridiculous. But uh--” they hiss, their gaze looking to something beyond the camera and the camerawoman.

“I might hallucinate a bit, it seems.”

“What? What are you seeing?” But before they can answer her question, they sway a bit, and start to pitch forward. “Oh you’ve got to be--” The video cuts abruptly to the camera woman's face. The background is the same jungle as previous, and as the camera moves away, the same person from before can be seen, leaning heavily against the camera woman's shoulder. Their head is down, resting against their chest as the two stumble across the terrain.

“See Doctor?” The camerawoman says, focusing in on the person. “ This is what happens when you touch random frogs in rainforests.”

The person’s head jerks up as they take a sharp breath. They look at the camerawoman, pupils as large as saucers. “Hm? Amy? That you?”

“Yeah hon,” she says, sparing a knowing glance to the camera. “You alright?”

“You sound - different, Pond. Less Scottish. What happened to the Scottish? I liked--” They suck in another breath, a hiss through their teeth. “Oh, oh no,” they groan, sounding a bit more coherent. “That’s not right - not right at all.”

The camera jitters as the camera woman adjusts the person’s arm across her shoulders. “You got that right, at least.”

The video cuts again. This time, all that can be seen is the muddy ground shuffling by. Off camera, the person rambles, their accent faltering oddly as they speak.

“And then they tricked me! Jamie, Zoe, my best friends - they tricked me, put me in this, well, it was a bit like a Barbie doll case, now wasn’t it? Just needed a little label. Something like ‘The Doctor, now with three different outfits!’

“And I mean, I can’t really blame them, they were fictional characters at the time. No free will whatsoever, actions trapped to the words on the page.”

The voice suddenly sighs, growing morose. “Oh, oh crumbs, I miss them. They can’t even remember me now! Time caught up with us, and the - my people wiped their memories. It always seems to do that. Time.” Their voice drops to a whisper, and their proper accent returns. “Please don’t let it catch up with you, Donna.”

The camera jerks slightly, as if the woman operating it hadn’t been aware they were talking to her.

“I don’t - I don’t think I could bear it.” They fall silent, and it hangs in the air like the humidity of the forest. On screen, the ground moves along at a slow but steady pace.

“Oh spaceman,” the camera woman breaths after some time, voice shaky. “Why’d you do this to yourself?”

Back in the console room, the Doctor wipes away tears as the video - a compilation of recordings their best mate had made - continues to play. More jokes, more pranks and dumb discussions had late at night.

Some of the clips, they had forgotten about, to be completely honest, but others, they could remember like it were yesterday.

And it hurt.

The videos about to end, they can see it on the progress bar. But before they decide to pause the video, save themselves from another story ending, a clip of Donna addressing them catches their attention.

She’s in the console room, sitting on the jump seat. “Right, listen up spaceman,” she’s saying. “By now, you’re probably laughing or - no,” she squints at the camera, looking at something slightly to the left of the lens. “The TARDIS says you’ll be - crying.” Her voice softens, and she whispers to herself, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Then she takes a breath, straightens her posture, collects herself. “No, no this was a good idea, because I know you, Doctor. You might like to think you’re all high and mighty and mysterious, but the fact is, I know you well enough to know you need a little sunshine in your life.

“Cause I know by the time you’re seeing this video, I’m gone. Don’t know how, or why, but you’re nine hundred years old, Doctor. No way I can compete with that.” She cracks a slight smile. “So, I made this little compilation - got the idea from when I was browsing the internet. You really gotta fix the time stabilizer whatsit. I keep getting sites from the late 2010s - Anyway, I made this compilation so that whenever you’re… feeling down, or just can’t seem to get out of your head, you can watch this video and just have a laugh once in a while. Also, the TARDIS might have put some clips in herself, you know she is.”

“So!” she claps her hands together. “Go out there, do your thing - save the world - but don’t forget to look for the bright things in life, the sunshine. And - don’t forget about me neither, kay?”

The video ends there, and the Doctor reaches over to turn off the monitor. They stare at the black screen for a moment, before they say, their voice hoarse, “Donna Noble, I don’t think I could forget you if I tried.”

#doctor who #dw #tenth doctor #donna noble #dw fanfic #doctor who fanfic #dw fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #my writing

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frivoloussuits · 6 years

Text

Suits: What Comes Next?

What can Suits do next, in 7b and 8a and beyond? It’s a question I’ve been thinking about for a while, and while I’ve explored it in fic I think it’s about time I do a proper meta post. Strap in for lots of weird predictions about how Suits can go on, and what the potential pitfalls of each route are.

TLDR: Suits is probably but not definitely doomed. Their safest option, in my opinion, is to decisively break up Donna and Harvey in 7b, give Harvey an absolutely awful time through 8a (maybe 7b and 8b too?), and double down on another ship entirely. This is not their only option; Darvey is still on the table.

Word count: ~3K

Question 1: How can they handle Mike and Rachel’s departure?

First things first, now that Mike’s leaving, the powers that be are losing the core relationship of the show. Assuming the reason Mike’s leaving is that he and Rachel got a better job/life opportunity elsewhere (as opposed to, say, the two of them get killed off), there are two options here:

1.) Brush over Mike and Rachel’s departure as a happy, happy event for everyone involved. The remaining characters move on with their lives with minimal angst. Maybe a new sidekick (Alex? Donna? Louis? someone else new?) fills the Mike-sized hole in Harvey’s plot lines.

Pros: Patrick J. Adams described Suits as a fundamentally “aspirational” show. In his opinion the show can approach darkness, it cannot dwell there. This would allow the show to carry on with its typical plot lines without angst.

Cons: This may feel out of sync with the previous seasons. If everyone can pick up and move on without Mike in a heartbeat, then why were they so dedicated to keeping him around and protecting him for all this time? Also, now that two more members of the original core cast are leaving, Suits is at risk of having too few meaningful plots. Glossing over Mike’s departure would mean dropping a major source of potential drama.

2.) Dwell on the implications of Mike and Rachel’s departure. Harvey’s abandonment issues might come back to the forefront.

Pros: Drama. Tension. Sensible, in-character consequences over the loss of the Mike-Harvey relationship.

Cons: If the show dwells on Rachel and Mike’s departure, so will the audience. And if the audience is upset about the departure, they might end up alienated, sick of the reminders of what’s now missing. Also, as mentioned above, this show doesn’t like serious angst; it might be hard to strike the right tone.

Question 2: How to end 7b?

Patrick J. Adams has strongly hinted that the finale of 7b will include the Machel wedding. 7b is also intended to serve as a backdoor pilot for Jessica’s spin-off show. That’s all well and good, but what happens to our core remaining characters, Donna, Louis, and Harvey?

Suits knows the benefits of ending on a cliffhanger (or some sort of tantalizing promise of new conflict), they've done it every season except maybe 6. I think they have to do this again. Because they’ve now lost half their main cast, they’ll probably try to hook people more than ever and give them an incredibly compelling reason to tune back in. What sort of cliffhanger they might use depends on the answer to . . .

Question 3: What’s the driving tension of Season 8a?

(8b’s also important, of course, but I think it’ll be the ending of the series. And since I don’t have a great intuition for how this show can end without Mike, I won’t make detailed predictions. All I’ll say is that I think at least 2 out of 3, if not all 3, of the Donna-Louis-Harvey group will be happily and stably in love, and I think all three will achieve some level of personal growth. I predict that they’ll all be happy with their careers and that the firm will be doing well. Either that or the firm crashes, in which case Harvey probably throws up his hands and moves out of New York, lol.)

Okay, so fandom loves fluffy slice-of-life stories that don’t have conflict, but mainstream TV shows? Not so much. There ought to be a driving conflict that makes 8a run. I think Suits can have three major types of tension:

External Tension: A mostly-new set of characters invades and raises hell. Examples include the Danbury plot of 6a, the investment banking plot of 4a, and the failed Darby merger from 3.

Pros of external tension: So many options for drama.

Cons of external tension: Meh. Suits has done this a lot already, and how do you top the stakes of Danbury? What new threat can outside characters present that we haven’t already seen? If it’s just that “the firm’s in jeopardy again,” I think a lot of viewers will yawn, but the obvious ways of raising the stakes (disgruntled ex-client attempts murder, someone ends up in the hospital for multiple episodes, Louis makes good on the Daniel Hardman death threat, etc.) would potentially be too angsty and out of place.

Another potential issue is that the end of 7b would ideally introduce this new bunch of external troublemakers, and if 7b’s finale is already packed with the Machel wedding and Jessica’s pilot plots then that’ll be tough.

Old-Conflict-Resurfaces Tension: Oooh, this one could be fun. A decent way for Suits to go out (assuming Season 8 is the end) is to do a fabulous villain team-up. Maybe Daniel Hardman’s working with Travis Tanner, who’s being paid off by Charles Forstman, and so on. More broadly, if Suits can reach into its established rogues gallery and present some old threats as more menacing than ever and weave a credible yet surprising legal plot, that might be a way to go.

Pros: Lots of options for drama, though less than above. Potentially cleaner and more elegant, since Suits doesn’t need to introduce bunches of new settings and characters. If done well, it could viewers guessing all throughout, rethinking old episodes and searching their memories for clues to unravel every new mystery. All in all this could feel like a very fitting end for the show.

Cons: This may be very hard to pull off. It can tip one way and become boring, or the other and become absurd.

Internal Tension: My personal favorite. Something changes among our central trio, and they then generate a driving plot of their own free will.

Pros: Elegant. Minimal set-up (well, no, but the setup is all the character dynamics we’ve learned so well over the past seven seasons). A great way to propel meaningful character change and wrap up the central arcs. I think audiences will care about this tension more than any other kind, because it’s all about Donna, Harvey and Louis, and those central characters are what the general audience cares about most.

Cons: We’ve already seen a lot of Donna, Harvey and Louis. We’ve seen how they react in stressful situations. Pushing them to new limits is hard, there are few events that can still do it. The powers that be would have to be pretty damn careful to keep everyone in-character without just rehashing dramas we’ve already seen.

Question 4: Who is Samantha Wheeler?

For those who don’t know, Katherine Heigl is joining the main cast of Suits for Season 8. She’s playing Samantha Wheeler, a “talented new partner at Pearson Specter Litt who challenges the status quo and will either become the firm’s greatest ally or most powerful enemy.”

It’s possible that Samantha will come crashing in and become the one-woman generator of an “external tension” that drives Season 8a. I’m hard-pressed to come up with what’s so special about this character that she can cause such big waves, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

Pros: New drama. New relationship dynamics. If she’s connected via backstory to one or more of the main characters (and she probably should be, otherwise the audience is at risk of just not caring about her), that could cause drama amidst the Donna-Louis-Harvey group. Also! She might provide new romance opportunities, and god knows Suits likes its love stories. If Darvey and Louis/Sheila are both definitively together by the end of 7, I think Samantha is even more likely to have a love interest.

Cons: Things are already changing a lot from 7 to 8. The audience is at risk of 1.) being confused, 2.) being bored because they’ve already seen too much like this, 3.) feeling alienated because this isn’t what they signed up for, and/or 4.) just not caring. Adding a brand-new main character may exacerbate these issues.

Question 5: WHAT HAPPENS TO DARVEY?!?!?!

The powers that be wrote themselves into an interesting corner with the 7a kiss. The Darvey tension’s been simmering for ages, but it’s finally been pushed so far that Donna and Harvey have to confront it. If the Darvey will-they-won’t-they dance isn’t finished by the end of 7, I think audiences will revolt.

The writers are devoting serious attention to the fallout the kiss; the consequences will propel plenty of 7b drama, and I won’t be surprised if Donna and Harvey spend 5.99 out of 6 episodes feuding. That said, by the time the season is over, the Darvey plot should be decided one way or the other to avoid the aforementioned audience revolt. Working under that assumption, there are two options . . .

1.) Darvey gets together in 7b.

I’m going to quote another Aaron (the namesake of Rick Sorkin?) discussing the long-time workplace romance of another fictional Donna: “They are in a tough spot . . . because she works for him. Besides, sexual and romantic tension is, to me, much more fun than taking the tension away by having the sex and romance.” And while I can’t find the article at the moment, I’ve seen a related quote from Sarah Rafferty, where she said that she hoped Darvey would happen in the very last episodes of the show, if it happened at all.

Why might they say this? Because hardcore Darvey shippers may be thrilled to watch an entire Season 8 of canon Darvey, but I think more casual viewers will lose interest. The unspoken will-they-won’t-they tension has captivated viewers for years, and once that’s gone so is one of Suits’ biggest hooks. If the powers that be still want the Donna-Harvey relationship to draw people in, they’d better cook up something really special to replace the sexual and romantic tension.

Donna and Harvey have prepared for this relationship for so long that a lot of the typical sources in television love stories (one of them is jealous, one of them cheats, they miscommunicate, they aren’t familiar with each others’ priorities) would make little sense; they should be past that by now. If there’s any relationship conflict, that would have to be written quite carefully.

Another option is to let Donna and Harvey be happy together and throw conflict at them from the outside-- maybe someone else comes and tries to break them up, or threaten them professionally, and maybe they close ranks and become a wonderful battle couple.

(Personal note: If Darvey gets together, I’d like to see canon unquestionably establish Donna as Harvey’s equal in 7b and 8. I want to see them contributing equally to their relationship. I want to be convinced that they’ll both be happy in the long term, that this isn’t a relationship where Donna sacrifices for Harvey but has to grovel for his support in return, and I think they’re not there yet. Harvey really isn’t there yet. Getting there could generate plot.)

So these are some options for how canon can keep viewers invested through S8, but . . . I bet they won’t be as compelling for the general audience as the 7-season mating dance.

2.) Darvey gets smashed to hell in 7b.

I know I’m the only one, but I think this is still a real possibility!

At this point, Suits is running into two issues. One, it feels overall predictable and unsurprising. Two, it feels like it’s pushing its characters out of character in order to manufacture surprises (see: Harvey’s sudden infatuation with Paula, rule-obsessed Sheila’s sudden willingness to cheat on her fiance). If they can thwart viewer expectations on one of the biggest questions-- will Darvey happen?-- while remaining true to their characters, that could be pretty damn cool.

It’s also a reasonable option, in my opinion. It could generate plenty of plot for Donna and Harvey in 8a, since they might completely burn their bridges in 7b and have to rebuild from scratch, and it also leaves room for a different central romance!

So there’s this ship that nobody talks about. It’s a m/f ship, which means it’s more likely to be canon on this sadly heteronormative show than, say, Marvey. The characters have had compelling plots and interactions from Season 1. They’ve laughed together. They’ve survived drama. They respect, care about and understand each other. They have the same interests and hobbies. They have hilariously sexual conversations. They have literally said “I love you.”

I’m talking about Louis and Donna.

Yes, I’m serious, and so was Sarah Rafferty when she claimed Donna needs someone more emotionally open than Harvey to be her “life partner,” and so was Rick Hoffman when he said, “I just don’t understand how Louis could not be attracted to a woman like Donna.”

Pros of Lonna: Surprises! Drama! I can see this being the internal tension that drives 8a, and hell, I can’t imagine a better cliffhanger for season 7′s finale than a Lonna moment. This wouldn’t be radically out of character-- I’ve been checking, and there’s a surprisingly large amount of foundational material for this ship-- yet it’d massively upset audience expectations and also the existing relationship dynamics between Donna, Louis, and Harvey.

No, I’m not forgetting Harvey. Maybe he doesn’t want Donna himself, but seeing Louis end up with her would upturn everything he thought he knew about the world. Given that Mike’s also leaving and that he might still be dealing with Paula-related guilt, this plot twist would send Harvey reeling, especially if he and Donna are still working out the fallout from the kiss. If he lashes out and screws up his professional life too, then that can generate legal plots as well as personal drama.

Long story short, Lonna is potentially a massive plot generator.

Cons: The big downside of Lonna is that (besides Rick Hoffman and Sarah Rafferty who have been discussing it at least since Season 2) practically nobody ships it. Louis is so often treated as fodder for jokes, it’s possible that audiences just wouldn’t take it seriously. Also, a lot of Darvey shippers would be furious and heartbroken.

Question 6: What’s my ideal season 7 finale?

Okay, I know nobody is actually asking this, but I want to tell you!

Mike and Rachel dance peacefully at their wedding reception, safe in a happy bubble, oblivious to the world burning down around them. Jessica’s in the Plaza lobby, threatening some poor sucker over the phone in a desperate bid to save her political career. Harvey’s locked in the bathroom, fighting off a panic attack and failing, wondering whether he’s sick because of Paula, or because of Mike, or because Donna’s not speaking to him anymore . . .

Meanwhile, Louis and Donna share a sweet, intimate conversation on a hotel balcony that leads to a sweet, intimate kiss-- only to have Donna pull back, gasping as though she’s been burned.

SUITS RETURNS IN FALL 2018.

(I don’t know about you guys, but I would so tune in for that Season 8.)

#suits #harvey specter #mike ross #donna paulsen #louis litt #samantha wheeler #my meta

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 7 years

Note

So, you mentioned a Wayne Tech science fair. So, of course, this means Bruce would have to meet smol Alex. Can you tell us about the scenario were Bruce's is like "this kid's good" and Kara is all "YOU CAN'T HAVE HER, BATS"? (Meanwhile, Diana has wandered over and is now instructing a tiny, gleeful Danvers on the finer points of swordplay)

Ofall the things Kara expects to see at the WayneTech Young InnovatorsExpo…

BruceWayne is not one of them.

She’sbeen invited to enough galas and fundraisers hosted by the elusiveMr. Wayne to know that he hardly ever bothers to attend. (She wasinitially confused at his seemingly dogged attempts to include her inthese things, given their somewhat…disparaging worldviews.

Andthen she learned that Alfred was in charge of the guest lists.)

Sowhen she spies Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding across the way on the expofloor, she politely excuses herself from a conversation with one ofthe corporate sponsors and makes a beeline for the League’s grumpiestmember.

“Crawledout of your cave this morning, I see,” Kara says by way ofgreeting, her smirk betraying the fact that she’s entirely too pleased with her own joke.

WhenBruce responds, it’s under his breath, and in the unpolished grumblehe reserves for his…extracurricular activities. Not the smooth,cultivated baritone he saves for the public.

“Thatwas funny the first fifty times,” he tells her. “You need newmaterial.”

“Andyou need coffee,” Kara counters, surprised at the dark circlesunder Bruce’s eyes. He doesn’t usually display his perpetualexhaustion so…openly.

Brucedoesn’t deny the claim, which essentially amounts to ‘yes, give mecaffeine.’ Kara knows better than to expect a formal 'please.’

Soshe rolls her eyes and heads over to the nearest Sundollars kiosk,and orders two of whatever seasonal, sugary latte is available. (Shemay not expect a formal please, but that doesn’t mean she’s going toreward his bad behavior. So, no. She will not be getting him hispreferred dark roast.)

Whenshe returns, Bruce is, of course, nowhere to be found.

“Typical,”she sighs, and begins her search, tempted to down both coffees rightthen and there.

It’safter the eighth—or possibly ninth—foamcore board detailing thelife cycle of the American bullfrog that Bruce begins to regret hisdecision to make a public appearance at the Expo.

Fortunately,only a handful of the children seem to recognize him. (Thesechildren, Bruce notes, tend to have very…eager parents hoveringnearby.) Once he’s clear of the center of the floor, and meanderingalong the fringes, he can move with a little more freedom, and ignorevarious booths without feeling guilty.

Hemaintains a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, observing the otherprojects from afar. Some are impressive. Others are…less so.

Hecomes a halt near the end of the aisle, and finds himself staring inopen confusion at one of the presentation boards.

He’s…notentirely sure what he’s looking at.

Hemoves closer, taking in the crude drawings, scribbled equations, andclunky low poly 3D models taped to the display board.

“…Isthis Kevlar?” he finally asks the kid behind the card table.

“…Kindof.” she shrugs.

“Kindof Kevlar.” Bruce repeats.

“It’san alternative.” And as Bruce looks back at the write ups, he cansee the slight difference in the makeup of the materials, as well asthe unique plating design of a proposed vest.

Ittakes a minute for Bruce to figure out where he’s seen it before—theoverlapping segments of armor.

“That’sa Trombusan design,” he says, and this time, when he looks over atthe kid, he really looks ather.

Young.Nondescript. Some sort of band t-shirt sticking out from beneath asweatshirt.

“It’s…yes.Kind of.”

There’sthat phrase again.

“Kindof.”

“Well,we don’t have the right kind of science to make something likeTrombusan armor. Not yet, anyway. At least that I could find,” shefrowns. “Maybe…the military does?” She looks up at him, “butnot regular civilians.”

Hestares at her.

“…Howold are you?”

“Twelve.And a half.”

Heshakes his head. “You—how do you know about Trombusans?”

Thegirl shifts uneasily from foot to foot.

“Iwas, uh, there. In National City. During the attack,” she explains.“I saw the foot soldiers, and that gave me the idea for the platingpattern.”

“…Youbased your design,” Bruce says slowly, “off of an alien speciesyou observed during a hostile attack on a major metropolitan area.That occurred…eight months ago.”

Thegirl takes a moment before answering.

“…Yeah.Guess so.”

AndBruce.

Brucehums quietly and rubs his chin.

“Interesting.”

ThatKara eventually finds Bruce is entirely a fluke. She gave up tryingto locate the AWOL billionaire and decided to see how Alex was doing,only to stumble upon Wayne, wearing that Look.

“No.”Kara says without preamble, or context, for that matter.

Butshe doesn’t need it, because she knows Bruce, and knows what’s goingon in that…labyrinthine mind of his.

“Oh,Kara, hey,” Alex starts to smile, but catching Kara’s stonyexpression, falters. “Um.”

“MissKent,” Bruce smirks, and plucks one of the paper cups from herhand. “Got a little lost on the way to the concession stand, didwe?”

“Don’tchange the subject,” Kara scowls. “And I did not. Also,you’re welcome.”

“Thisis not dark roast.”

“Youcan’t have her, Bats.”

Karadoesn’t bother to explain herself—she’s certain that Bruce has adossier on every single person in the building. Memorized. Andcolor-coded. Down in that damp, depressing cave of his. He’ll knowwho Alex Danvers is, who her parents are, knows they vacation inKansas occasionally, to visit…'relatives.’

“She’sgood,” Bruce says, and takes a sip of the latte. He cringes at thesyrupy sweetness. “We’re talking…Tim good.”

Karaopens her mouth to protest, but after a brief pause, “…Really.Tim good.” comes out instead.

“Mmm.”Bruce considers. “She could be. Given the right. …Opportunities—”

“No.No. No, Bruce,” Kara pinches the bridge of her nose. “No,you are not—you are not drafting another child intoyour…weird, vigilante club.”

“Wouldyou prefer I switch to dogs and cats? Livestock, maybe,” is thepointed response.

“…That’sdifferent, and you know it,” Kara huffs. “I’m notendangering kids—”

“Getoff your moral high horse, Kent,” Bruce interrupts.

Karais caught off guard.

“—What?”

“Shetold me she got the design from alien soldiers,” Bruce levels apiercing stare at Kara. His unwavering gaze makes Kara involuntarilyflinch. “Care to explain how she got close enough to make out theplate pattern?”

Karaswallows, shame burning a faint blush across her face.

“That—thatwasn't—”

Brucesays nothing, but his smile is unbearably smug. Kara desperatelywishes she could throw him into space. (Knowing Bruce, however, thejerk would have some portable bat-themed breathing apparatus.)

“You’llrecall,” Bruce says, smirking over his cup of coffee, publicpersona now firmly in place, “that the aim of WayneTech’s YoungInnovators Foundation is to foster and encourage young innovators.”Kara clenches her fists. “Alex is a young innovator. I’d merelylike to encourage her. And I’m sure her parents wouldn’t mind ascholarship. Or two.”

Karacan’t really argue one way or the other—that’s a decision for Alex,Eliza, and Jeremiah.

Shesays as much to Bruce, who turns to get Alex’s opinion on thematter…

Andis met with an empty metal folding chair.

“…Wellthat's—” Bruce starts to say, only to have Kara cut him off.

“Doyou hear…clanging?” He does not, but then, Bruce doesn’t have thebenefit of alien ears. “Sort of sounds like…swords.”

Bothare silent for a moment, mutual confusion crinkling their brows.

Andthen, in unison:

“Ah.Swords.”

AlexDanvers looks entirely too thrilled to be learning swordplay from theresident Themysciran ambassador, and Kara wonders if maybe she shouldbe worried.

But,Alex is happy, shifting her weight and angling her arm, matchingDiana’s example and following her instructions as closely as she can;Eliza and Jeremiah don’t object (Kara absolutelycalled them, to see what sort of…sword privileges they were dealingwith here) and Brucelooks incredibly jealous.

“Idon’t know what has inspired this frown,” Diana joins the two ofthem as Alex inspects the practice blade Diana just…happenedto have. Because of course she did. “But I approve.”

“Youstole his newest sidekick,” Kara nods towards Alex. Diana’s smilegrows wider.

“Ohyes, I definitelyapprove.”

“Thisisn’t over, Kent,” Bruce vows, accepting, not defeat, but achallenge. “Tell the Danvers to expect some pamphlets in the mail.”

“Iwill.” She won’t. (Alright, she eventuallywill. Let him sweat a bit. He deserves it.) Bruce excuses himself,unable to handle more than one social interaction at a time.

“Heis a strange one, that Mr. Wayne,” Diana says. Kara lets out abreathy laugh.

“Youhave no idea.”

Alexwalks over, and hands the blade back to Diana, clearlyreluctant to do so, but she says she should get back to her project,she doesn’t like leaving it alone for too long.

“Thatkid with the tadpoles was eyeing my research,” she says with afrown. “I need to make sure he hasn’t like, touched anything.”

“Ishould be going as well,” Diana says. “Donna’s presentationstarts soon.”

Theysay their goodbyes and go their separate ways, Kara deciding to tagalong with Alex before diving back into press mode.

“Areyou better friends with Wonder Woman than Batman?” Alex asks asthey walk back to the booth. Kara casts a cursory glance in severaldirections before answering.

“Iwould never choosefavorites. Yes.”

Alexchuckles.

“Yeah,she’s way cooler than Bruce.”

“Thisis very true,” Kara says, throwing an arm around Alex’s shoulders.Alex gets a mischievous gleam in her eye as she looks up at theKryptonian.

“Shemight be even coolerthan you.”

“Whoanow.”

(Clark,of course, learns of the situation from Dick. Who heard it fromJason. Who heard it from Babs. Who heard it from Tim. Who heard itfrom Alfred.

“Goodchoice,” he tells her. “Wonder Woman’s my favorite too. But don’ttell Kara I—”

AndKara is there, mock-glowering at them both.

“Alienears,” she says.)

Notes:- When I originally mentioned the WayneTech science fair, admittedly I imagined Alex as older, maybe mid-teens. And that’s how I started to write her. But this clashed with the ‘tiny, gleeful Danvers’ in the prompt, so the compromise was pre-teen Alex, who probably comes off as a bit too precocious as a result.- Bruce and Diana are almost certainly OOC, I do apologize.

#stranger writes #supergirl fic #cool aunt kara AU #I tried to do right by this amazing prompt #but it's just TOO GOOD #nothing I come up w/ could do it justice #long post #ish #ultranos

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nat-20s · 5 years

Note

ten donna prompt where theyve just got back from the tardis after seeing Some Shit. donna is a little shaken, and the doctor is trying to help as best he can.

sorry thi took so long lmao also i didn’t edit because this is full of FEELINGS and editing it would be Too Much anyway have fun

Donna was quiet.Donna had been quiet since she’s gotten back to the Tardis, maybeeven before then, though things had been a bit too chaotic for theDoctor to be able to accurately tell. A deep sense of wrongnesspervaded every cell of his beingas long as the air remained empty, so he tried to fill up the spacewith his own chatter. Pulling at various levers and knobs mostly todo something with the itchy sensation under his skin, he asked, “So,Donna! Where to next? Alien planet? Something historical? A nicecoffee shop? Maybe one of the ones with cats OH I love a good catcafe don’t you? Or are yu not much of a cat person? Well obviouslyyou’re not a cat person,not like those nuns, have I ever told you about those nuns, unlessyou are a cat person,just very well disguised. Donna, you’re not a secret cat person,right?”

Whenthat didn’t illicit even a “No, dumbo”but instead resulted in Donna continuing her dead-eyed stare at theconsole, The Doctor’s twohearts started to pound. Injecting a bit more false pep into hisvoice, he continued on, “ ‘Course, we don’t have topick a destination. I always like a good surprise, let the Tardis goon according to her whims. We’re sure to go somewhere excitingthen, the ol’ girl refuses to let us get bored.”

Donnasucked in a breath through her noise, turned glassy eyes towardshis, and said in a small voice,“I think I should go home.”

Small. Hervoice is small. Nopart of her should be small. Donna Noble is meant to take up space.Donna is meant to be loud and large and present andunapologetic about all of that. But her voice is small, her postureis hunched inwards, and she doesn’t exist enough in the room. TheDoctor knew what exactlyshe meant, but he had also foundthat on occasion, if he simply acted like something wasn’thappening, then it wouldn’t. It was rare, but it was worth a shot.“Right! Always good to have a break. Catch up with Wilf, hear somestories, love hisstories, maybe avoid a whole world ending disaster this time, allthat jazz! Sounds great! Molto bene!”

Donna’sbreath stuttered and a few tears spilled unbidden. She hadn’t meantto cry, she was trying really really hardnot to cry, but she supposed she couldn’t put it off forever. Voicea bit stronger but still small, too small, she replied, “ No,I mean, drop me off. Permanently. I think..I think you should findsomeone else. You’re stillgonna need someone but I don’t think that someone is me.”

“What?Why? No, wait, what? Donna,I, I suppose, I..no. Ifyou want to leave, I’ll understand, obviously, I’m not going toforce you to-”

“-Ofcourse I don’t want to.”

“Then..,”The Doctor stammered for about 30 seconds before he came up with theresponse, “what? Whywould you leave?”

Donna’svoice finally came back strong. It’s somehow worse. “Because! I’mnot enough, all right!”

“Notenough? Not enough how? Not enough for what?”

Donnagestured wildly to the room around her. “All of this! What if..whatif I was always missing things, big, grand universal things, becauseI was meant to! What if Lance, what if my own mother wasright! Maybe I’m just meant to care about, I dunno, tabloids androyal weddings and office gossip. I’m not supposed to have theuniverse in my charge! I don’t have medical knowledge or anindomitable will or an incorroptiple sense of right and wrong or anyof the things that would make me good at this! For Christ’s sake,you got hurt because I wanted to have a spa day, what kind ofcompanion is that? God, the more I think about it, the more I realizeyou can’t possibly want me here. Sure, you’ll tolerate me,because you have to, because I do that thing where I push and I pushand I push and don’t ever notice when someone’s just beingpolite, when they’re just putting up with me because I’venever given them a word in edgewise-”

Nomore comes out because Donna has started to hyperventilate. In awink, The Doctor is at her side, one of her hands wrapped in both ofhis own, and making sure that she’s looking at him. “Donna. Wejust fought off a creature with both physic and shape-shiftingabilities that are specifically meant to demoralize its targets. It’sgrueling. So these terrible thoughts,these feelings, thatyou’re having right now. I promise that they’ll pass, andI promise even more that they’re not true.”

Herbreathing slowed down, but she hardly looked any less distressed. Shewas at least able to kee speaking, throat no longer quite sotight. “That’s the thing though, it worked. What betterevidence is there that these thoughts are true than the fact that Icompletely froze. All those things had to do was look like mymother and say some of her greatest hits and I was paralyzed untilyou trapped it in an elevator shaft. What greater display is therethat I’m utterly uselesshere, just like shesaid?”

“Useless?!,”The Doctor sputteredfor a few moments if only so he wouldn’t scream. Ragingat the entirety of reality for the simple fact that his best friendcould ever feel this way about herself wasn’t going to helpmatters, but god did he want to. “Donna, nobodyis useless, least ofall you! Freezing one time doesn’t negate the fact that youobjectively put so much goodinto the universe.I’ve frozen more than that during afternoon tea. Donna, there arepeople that are alive and happy and freetoday because youshowed up and decided to help them. There are ballads and sculpturesand choirs made about youbecause you made thedeliberate choice to be kind. How many people can say that?”

“Yeah,but that’s not cause of me, is it? That’s just a side effect oftraveling with you, right? That’s what youdo, you go and helpand make things better and if someone happens to be coming along,they’re gonna get creditno matter what.”

“No,what? Not even slightly.Donna, you’ve seenme at my default, and it’s not good. Remember the Racnoss? You saidI just stood there, like a stranger, and you were right. I wouldn’thave left if you hadn’t pulled me out of there. Pompeii?I wouldn’t havelooked back. I wouldn’t have acknowledged myown daughter ifit hadn’t been for you. The good that we do is a testament to you,to how truly andincredibly brilliant you are.”

TheDoctor let go of her hand so that he could throw his own up in theair. “And, by the way, what’s this nonsenseabout me onlytolerating you?! I askedyou totravel with me. Youthink I go around offering to show the wonders of the stars toanybody? To people I onlytolerate? Forone I’m certainly not polite enough to put up with people that areonly tolerable and for twoI interrupted your weddingafter only 3 weeks because I missed you too much.What about that says tolerance?”

Theyweren’t out of the woods, but it felt like a victory nonethelesswhen Donna gave a hint ofa smile and replied,“Honestly just thought you has a thing for crashing my weddings.”

It’s teasing. That’s good.“Doing something twice hardly means you have a thingfor it. And to befair, both of those weddings needed a good crashing.”

The Doctor expected a rebuttal,at the very least a solid, “oi”. Instead, he gets a oneshouldered shrug and a “suppose so.” Less good. He decided tokeep talking. He felt like he could sing Donna’s praises for days,but he didn’t know if or when those praises would be effective.

“Andanother thing, this whole meant to be here concept. You found me.Twice. Great big grand old universe, all of time and space, infinitecosmos, and just when I’ve lost someone, just when I’vemost needed someone, thereyou were. Donna Noble, my savior.”

Donna sniffed, and scrubbed ather face with her hands, and smiled. She was coming back to herself.“Isn’t it more the other way around? Imean, you quite literally saved me less than 20 minutes again.”

“Maybewe save each other. Maybe that’s what makes this whole arrangementwork so well. I…..I know there are some things from your past thatI can’t fix, but when it comes to your future? I’m just hoping tobe in it. You are welcome to go home, I won’t stop you, but knowthat if you ever leave the Tardis, if you ever go back, that’sgoing to have to be yourchoice, because I’mgoing to fight to keep you around as long as I can.”

Donna searched his features,looking for any hints of insincerity. When she found none, she letout a deep breath, and said, “Okay. Okay.No, of course I don’twant to go home, not permanently. I believe you promised me somethingabout an intergalactically renowned adventure cruise? Let’s hitthat up and see how many hours it takes before it all goeshorrendously wrong.”

Some of the cheer in her voicewas carefully manufactured, but it was all right, because soon enoughit wouldn’t be. Soon enough, they’d be off, traveling and helpingand picking up pieces, as they do. As long as they were together andmoving forward, it would be alright.

#Anonymous #donna noble #nat talks doctor who #nat drabbles

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raywritesthings · 7 years

Text

The Scarcity Plot, Coda

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: Donna takes care of the Doctor after the injury he received on their latest adventure. AO3 link

Donna shut the door on the two sisters, then turned around to find the Doctor struggling to his feet. “Oi! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Vortex,” he groaned, hands reaching out to catch himself on the console.

Donna marched up to him and took hold of his shoulders. “I can do that. At least, I think I can.” It was one of the first things he’d taught her, and she nearly had the sequence memorized now.

“The…green switch,” he prompted.

Donna started there and then worked her way through, perhaps less fluidly than he would’ve, but the TARDIS took off nonetheless so she counted it a success.

“Okay, now you are getting in a bed.” He accepted her support easily, which scared her more than anything else. The wound had stopped bleeding as freely, but he was so weak. What could she do to help him? A thought occurred to her and she stopped them just at the mouth of the corridor to the med bay. “You sure I shouldn’t be taking you to Martha?”

The Doctor took another step, forcing her to keep going so he wouldn’t pitch himself forward onto the floor. “Just need rest, Donna.”

“You’re sure? You’re talking like this sort of thing has happened before.”

He was silent.

Donna looked at him. “You’re kidding. Were you ever gonna mention that? ‘I get shot every now and then, Donna, not to worry’?”

“It was a long time ago,” he finally managed. “Don’t normally plan to…step in front of a bullet.”

Well you did today, Donna nearly bit out, but stopped herself. Of course he had, after everything with Jenny. It was no surprise Larne had reminded them both of the bright and determined girl they’d lost. His loss more than hers, of course, she had been his daughter. Even so, Donna couldn’t help the attachment and sense of responsibility she’d felt and still did feel for Jenny, and she privately wondered if it was at all what motherhood was like. She wouldn’t dare presume to ask Spaceman that, though. Maybe Gramps would have an answer for her the next time she dropped in. It’d have to wait awhile, though, since she didn’t want to make one of the Doctor’s hearts go into arrest over some misunderstanding about her leaving again. How did he ever get on without her?

The med bay doors slid open for them, and Donna helped him to the nearest bed. “Here, your coat.” She helped him shrug out of first that then his suit jacket, and Donna also took the liberty of undoing his tie. No point in him strangling himself to death in his sleep by accident. Slowly, she got him sitting on the side of the bed so she could unlace and remove his trainers, and finally she was able to get him settled under the sheets. She’d need to grab more blankets; his skin practically felt like ice.

Donna retrieved a washcloth first, then pulled up a chair to his bedside and began gently wiping away the dried blood running down from his temple. He’d need a shower, too, once he’d got better; it was in his hair. He’d hate that, she thought with a smile as she did her best to clean that off in the meantime. “So, what all happens? Since you’ve done this before.”

“Mostly, I’ll just sleep. I might turn a bit cold.”

“You’re already freezing,” she said, placing a hand to his forehead in demonstration. His lips twitched upward in a brief smile.

“Hm. Could have some delirium as well. Nothing serious. S’all rather boring, really. Might want to occupy yourself in the library or something,” he suggested, eyes closed.

“No chance, Spaceman. I’m staying right here,” she informed him with a soft smile. As if she’d just go off and ignore him while he was recovering. What sort of best mate did he take her for?

He gave another hum in response, and Donna patted one of his hands, then stood and strode to the supply cupboard. There was a whole stack of blankets neatly folded on one of the shelves. She decided three would be enough to start off with.

“Oh, an’ my heartbeat an’ breathing might not register,” the Doctor mumbled.

Donna whirled back around. “What?”

The Doctor did not answer. Donna dropped the blankets, ran back over, felt for his wrist and could find no pulse. His chest wasn’t moving with any sign of breath either. He was paler than she’d ever seen him, making the freckles scattered across his cheeks stand out in the harsh fluorescent lighting.

He looked like a corpse.

“Oh my God,” Donna breathed. Why had she listened to him? She should have gone straight to Martha! “Doctor.” She reached out and touched a cold shoulder, heart in her throat. “Doctor!”

The Doctor’s eyes snapped wide open with a great gasp of breath, though they were missing that usual spark to them, and Donna had to catch him when he half-lurched out of the bed to stop him from tipping over. “Blimey! Whazzit, Daleks?”

“You weren’t breathing! And- and your hearts!”

He stared at her, uncomprehending. “Well didn’t I say? Healing coma, Donna.”

“You looked dead!” She snapped.

His face fell. “Oh. M’sorry.” One of his arms rose but didn’t quite make it to her face, instead dropping to rest on her knee, and it was then Donna realized she was crying.

She looked away, wiping at the tears with the back of her hand. “No it’s…you just scared me.”

“Bottom of the cupboard. There should be…a machine.” The Doctor flopped back against the pillows, his brief activity from her startling him awake clearly costing him. “S’more sensitive than Earth equipment. You can hook me up to that if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah, alright,” Donna agreed softly. “Just rest.” She watched his eyes slip shut again, then retrieved the dropped blankets and the machine. It occurred to her, as she looked it and the multitude of electrodes over, that she hadn’t the faintest idea how it worked. Her first instinct was to go back for the phone and get Martha on the line—God, Martha would be so much better for this, he was probably missing her more than anything right now—but even Donna was pretty sure normal EKGs didn’t have this many electrodes. Twice as many for two hearts? Would even Martha know where they all went?

A drawer on the side of the room popped open, and Donna set the machine aside for a moment to investigate. Sitting in the drawer was a thick-looking manual, which when Donna began flipping through it contained a series of diagrams depicting various medical equipment and how to operate them. A guide for companions, she supposed. Well that was a relief.

She came across the machine she’d taken from the cupboard and took the manual with her back to her seat. Maybe she wasn’t that good at this sort of thing, but she could do her best to figure it out. Donna glanced up at the Doctor briefly for her own piece of mind—then did a double take. Was that actual ice forming on his skin?

“What—how—Martian!” Donna bit out, though careful not to raise her voice and risk waking him too soon again.

He’d said he’d turn cold. Apparently he’d meant he was going to turn into a bloody Popsicle. She felt wholly unprepared and unequipped to deal with any of this, but then, wouldn’t anyone? He was the only one of his kind left in the universe. No one else could truly know what was best for him in illness or injury. If he was ever hurt, like now, he was his own best doctor.

No wonder he’d tried to send her away. Here she was, just about to throw the towel in because she couldn’t deal with a bit of alienness. Well alien was what she’d signed up for, and alien was what she was sticking with.

Donna squared her shoulders, then gave the manual another once-over. She could do this.

She’d need his shirt off, was the first thing Donna realized. After an internal struggle, she decided she’d much rather know for certain his hearts were beating than preserve his modesty. Donna quickly undid the buttons—and underneath that was a t-shirt of course. God, how many layers was he wearing? She perched on her knees on the side of the bed and pulled him up into an approximation of sitting, then got to work tugging the clothes off his currently boneless body.

As she worked them over his head, he slumped forward, narrowly avoiding landing face-first into her chest. Donna felt her face heat up at the thought and thanked every higher power she knew of, alien or otherwise, that he was completely out of it. She blew her bangs out of her eyes in a huff, then eased the Doctor off her shoulder and onto his back again.

Well, at least the hard part was over with. She consulted the manual once more, the instructions having slipped her mind do to her rather flustered state, then got to work placing the electrodes in the appropriate positions. Her stomach flipped around a bit every time her hands brushed his bare skin. This really wasn’t what they were—but he’d told her about the machine, which meant he ought to have known what it would entail. There wasn’t anything weird about her touching him half-naked if it was to help him through a crisis. Just like the detox kiss. Nothing more to it.

All the same, Donna felt herself relax as soon as she finished. She doubted she’d get hired on at any hospitals any time soon, but when she turned the machine on it seemed to be in working order. His hearts were beating, just at an incredibly slow rate. Hearing it did make her feel better all the same.

Donna fussed around with the blankets a bit. There wasn’t really a way to cover him up completely with the electrodes in the way, but she could make sure he was as warm as he could be, all things considered.

Eventually she retook her seat, observing her handiwork critically. It was unsettling, seeing him so still. The ice wasn’t helping matters. He’d said it was a healing coma which meant he’d likely be unconscious for a while, but Donna wished more than anything he’d wake up. She missed him.

It was more important he do whatever he needed to get better, of course. Donna couldn’t help but wonder how else she might help. He wasn’t human, but she couldn’t see why some of the normal creature comforts wouldn’t go amiss once he’d woken back up. He’d have to be hungry, wouldn’t he? She would be. Truthfully, she was hungry now.

Donna half-stood—but paused as a thought occurred to her. What if something happened while she was gone? She’d promised she’d be here.

Donna looked about the room, but there didn’t seem to be anything there that could help her. “Listen, if something’s wrong, just—just let me know.”

She felt a bit silly, but then the TARDIS hummed, and she took that to mean the ship understood.

“Thanks.”

She walked to the nearest kitchen and rummaged in the cabinets for supplies. There was enough for a decent soup, she reckoned. Probably the first proper meal he would have in days. She really needed to work on him a bit more in that regard. He barely took care of himself on a normal day, and a brush like this had her more worried than ever.

Donna occupied herself with cooking, feeling some of the tension that had built up in her ever since the gunshot leech out of her slowly as she concentrated on one of her mum’s recipes. It had always been her favorite when she was home sick, and she didn’t see why it wouldn’t do in this case.

She fixed herself a small bowl to eat. It’d be no good if she was running on an empty stomach through this whole thing, and anyway it’d be a good idea to check if her attempt had been any good. Her mum made it better, but Donna didn’t imagine Spaceman could be all that picky; he lived off bananas, what did he know?

She was just finishing transferring the rest of the soup to a crock pot so it could sit till he woke when a terrified cry echoed through the TARDIS and made her blood run cold.

“Donna! Donna!”

She placed the lid on the crock pot and raced back down the corridor.

“Doctor!”

He was thrashing in the bed, eyes still closed. Two of the blankets had been knocked off him onto the floor. Electrodes were popping off his chest and causing the machine to go wild with beeping. Donna hurried to switch it off, then sat on the bed.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she said, grabbing for his hands and pulling them back down. She leaned over him, a hand on his cheek. The ice was entirely gone to her relief, and he seemed just the slightest bit warmer than when he’d passed out. “I’m right here, Spaceman.”

“Donna,” the Doctor whimpered, limbs stilling.

“You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re back on the TARDIS, we’re home.” That last bit had sort of slipped out by accident. She’d never called the TARDIS home before. But it was, wasn’t it? She lived here with the Doctor and planned to the rest of her life. She couldn’t imagine anywhere else as home, not even her mother’s house as much as she loved her and Gramps.

“Donna,” the Doctor said again, less urgently than the other times.

“Is that the only word you remember, now?” She couldn’t help teasing with a laugh, withdrawing her hand. “Wouldn’t that be a change?”

The Doctor’s face turned towards her and she wondered if perhaps he was waking at last. Rather than speak or open his eyes, he simply bent practically in half, head tucked to brush against her thigh. Then he stilled again. He’d been…looking for her? She reached out, tentatively, and smoothed a hand over the back of his head and neck. This couldn’t be an accident. For one thing, it didn’t look remotely comfortable.

Donna lifted him briefly so she could shift around and lean her back against the pillows, and also so he was no longer trying to twist himself into a pretzel to be near her. His head ended up half in her lap now, and then he nuzzled closer. Oh, she was not letting him live this down. Not ever. That was if she didn’t die of embarrassment first. This was way beyond just-mates territory.

She shouldn’t mind it, really. Here, alone on the TARDIS, and him seeking her out for comfort in his sleep. What was the point of getting bothered? She always got so bothered by this sort of thing when they were traveling. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to turn to her; he was her best friend. Her best friend who made her laugh—and cry—more than anyone she’d ever met, who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and who everyone thought she was seeing if not married to soon as they looked at the two of them.

“Oh, you dunce,” she muttered to herself. How’d she gone and done the one thing they’d agreed not to do right at the start? She’d considered herself above fancying him like Martha had and somehow plunged straight into falling for him instead. Of course it nearly took him dying on her for her to realize.

“You’re never doing something like this to me again,” she decided, not really leaving any room for the unconscious Doctor to respond. What if he’d been awake for this and seen how unintentionally obvious she was being? Then she’d really be in trouble.

What was she going to do? If he found out, well, that’d be the end of the line, wouldn’t it? Donna felt a lump rise in her throat at just the thought. He couldn’t find out. She’d just have to be careful was all. Make certain anyone they met on their travels was told emphatically they were not a couple, never would be. Look after him, but not too closely.

Donna glanced down at the Doctor, his head resting in her lap. She supposed she could have one exception. Anyway, he had started it. That was her defense, and she was sticking to it. The fact that she’d been absentmindedly running a hand through his hair as her whole brain had gone into overdrive to process all this didn’t need to be brought up at all.

She was really, really in trouble.

“Daft Martian,” she said. Then she yawned. Dealing with near death experiences and life shattering realizations was tiring work. She really ought to move back to the chair.

And that was the last thing Donna remembered.

---

It took some time for the Doctor to come round properly. Healing comas always left a Time Lord a little disoriented at first, but he felt less groggy and more…hazy, like he was slowly being pulled from a very pleasant dream. It wasn’t very usual for him at all; the last time he’d been incapacitated like this, he’d woken up alone and afraid—and also nearly suffocated, though that bit hadn’t been Jo’s fault.

He’d lost his shirt, both shirts actually, at some point. He didn’t recall when that had happened. Donna had helped him to bed, then she’d gotten a bit panicky as he started to fall into the coma—admittedly, he could have explained himself better, but he’d been so tired—and then there was nothing, really.

The Doctor was warm, despite his lack of layers. His pillow was warm. Warmer than it had any right to be, anyway, being a pillow. It was radiating heat.

His pillow was alive.

The Doctor’s eyes snapped open, allowing him to confirm that, yes, that was a thigh his cheek was resting on. A thigh that went up and up out of his field of vision, though he thought he could follow the trajectory enough to state with some confidence that it and the rest of the person it was a part of was curled around him. He turned his head, dislodging a hand that had been tangled in his hair.

Donna. Donna was curled around him. He hoped his respiratory bypass would be able to take the strain so soon after a healing coma or he was about to have the most inglorious regeneration in history.

She was sleeping, clearly. Still wearing her clothes from their botched attempt at Rome. He wondered how long he’d been out, how long she must have sat up with him before exhaustion caught up with her. She looked peaceful, now. Beautiful, always.

Some of her hair had fallen in her face. On impulse, he reached up and tucked it behind her ear. Donna sighed in her sleep and scooched in a little closer. He gulped.

Oh, this was bad. She was going to be furious with him.

Quietly, the Doctor ventured, “Donna?”

There was some activity beneath her eyelids, but she didn’t stir much more than that.

A little louder, it seemed. “Donna?”

“Huh?” Her brow creased, and even that looked adorable so that he had to bite down a grin, then she was blinking in bleary confusion. “What?”

“Er, morning,” he greeted as casually as he could make it. Her gaze focused, then zeroed in on him.

“Oh. My. God.” She breathed, eyes widening, no doubt in horror.

“Donna,” he began, slow and careful, “I don’t exactly remember everything that happened so, er, this—” He glanced pointedly at the scant space between them.

Donna sat up, so he did as well. She had shoved herself about as far back against the wall as possible.

“I—I wasn’t—you were thrashing about, so I was just sitting here to calm you down. That’s all!” She defended in a rush.

“Right!” He agreed quickly.

“Must have just dropped off after! You’re hard work!” Donna accused, face turning redder than he could ever remember.

“Absolutely!” He conceded. “I’m sure I was totally not being myself in anything I might have said or done.” It was really important she believed that bit.

“Course!” They sat there, staring at each other, neither of them seeming to know what the next move to make was. Then Donna blurted, “Soup!”

The Doctor blinked. “What?”

“I made soup, thought you could eat something when you’d woken up. It’s in a crock pot. I’ll go get it!” She scrambled to her feet and out the door, though before it could slide shut she poked her head back in. “Thank God you’re not dead!” Then promptly fled again.

He stared at the closed door for a moment after she’d gone, baffled. He’d been expecting her to be angry, maybe even a slap—though truthfully, he couldn’t recall the last time she’d given him one of those. Instead, she’d panicked, like she’d thought he would be upset.

Oh, if she only knew waking up to Donna Noble was the last thing that could possibly upset him. The Doctor leaned back against the pillows, Donna’s warmth already receding from them. He looked over the side and spotted his t-shirt on the floor, so he grabbed that and slipped it back on. For his comfort as much as Donna’s.

Although, she would have had to have been the one to remove it, so it followed she couldn’t be that uncomfortable seeing his bare chest much less sharing a bed with it. And hang on, how had his head ended up in her lap?

No. No, it wasn’t possible. He did not get that lucky ever. Donna wasn’t, Donna couldn’t be—

Yet if he concentrated hard enough, he could still remember the feel of her fingers in his hair.

A smile, small yet daring, rose to the Doctor’s lips.

“Getting shot at. Must do that more often.”

#ten x donna #doctor x donna #donna noble #tenth doctor #doctor who #the doctor #my writing

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