The Doctor’s Wife

You’d made peace knowing that you’d never see him again, especially not with this face. Didn’t his face change? He’d told you that years ago, long before it all went down. Yet here he was, sporting the same face you saw almost 16 years ago. At least he was kind enough to have aged in that time, it made you feel a little better about the smile lines that dotted the corners of your eyes. 

None of that explained why he was back, let alone running down your stairs as if his arse was on fire. He jumped over the last step, his filthy white trainers landing on your carpet. Seconds later, Donna ran after him, followed by Rose, Sylvia, and inevitably Shaun. 

It wasn’t unusual for the Noble-Temple family to burst into your house unannounced. In fact, it was quite common. Rose often came over for a quick nibble or to show you her latest creation. The Doctor, however, did not make home visits a habit. At least, he hadn’t back when you had known him. Then again, you hadn’t seen him in over a decade, and now he was in your sitting room. For all you knew, he did nothing but make house visits now. A lot could change in 16 years. 

Yet, he bounced between his feet, anxiously wiggling his hands at his sides, just like he always used to. The Doctor had never been very good at sitting still. Perhaps he hadn’t changed that much. 

Even if they were just popping in for a visit (which the Doctor had never done in his long life), why hadn’t they just used the door? How had they even gotten into your house? A brief image of the Doctor sliding down your chimney like Father Christmas jumped into your mind and you had to bite back a laugh. 

A quiet squeak came from behind Rose, quickly making you aware of the small, mop-like creature at her feet. Whatever it was, it looked like a cross between a gremlin and one of those big-eyed Beanie Boos Rose had been obsessed with when she was little. As far as you knew, your niece’s creations hadn’t moved on to animatronics, but she was constantly surprising you. 

“Can I have the keys?” the Doctor asks Shaun, pulling you out of your messy thought spiral. Without hesitation, Shaun tossed the Doctor his car keys. The Time Lord effortlessly captured them in his slender fingers. 

Your mind flashed back, the Doctor’s hand closed around the keyring reminding you of when he gave you your set of keys to the TARDIS. He’d tossed them at you without much warning, resulting in the single key falling to the floor. You still had that key, you could never bring yourself to get rid of it. It had been moved from your keyring, it’s not like you had used it in the past decade, but you still held onto it. 

A loud crash erupted from the other side of your sitting room wall, the one that faced Donna’s house. You shot her a questioning glance, raising a single eyebrow. Shortly after, a series of booms and crashes came from the street, causing your eyebrow to rise even further. Before Donna could even open her mouth to explain the Doctor was speaking in that rushed, authoritative voice of his. 

“Go, go, go,” he rambled, bouncing back and forth on his feet, hastily ushering the Noble-Temples out of your house. As quickly as they came into your home, they ran out of it. 

Before you could fully think it through, you were following Donna out the door. Blindly, you allowed yourself to be ushered into Shaun’s cab with the rest of the family. 

On the street, quite literally in front of your house, aliens were fighting. You just narrowly dodged a laser beam, ducking as it whooshed over your head. With your hands over your head, as if that would protect you at all, you sprinted to Shaun’s shiny black taxi. 

You crawled into the passenger’s seat, Donna’s family squeezing into the backseat, which certainly wasn’t meant to house four full-sized humans and one woolly animatronic. Unceremoniously, Rose lifted the mop-like creature up and into her lap. 

“Meep Meep!” it squeaked, shuffling in her lap. 

“Oh my god,” Donna panted, fumbling to buckle her seatbelt, her hands obviously trembling. 

The Doctor rushed into the seat next to you, plopping down in the driver’s seat. For a split second, he fumbled with the keys, struggling to slide them into the ignition. Silently, you helped him, putting the key in with ease. 

For a brief second, your eyes caught each other and time seemed to stop. For whatever odd, impossible reason, the Doctor was back. You had forgotten how familiar the Doctor’s eyes were to you - the mere sight of them felt like coming home. As much as he might change, his eyes were always the same.

A shot slightly rattled the cab of the car, causing the Doctor to snap back into action. He forced his eyes from you and threw the gearshift into drive, wasting no time driving away from the battlefield taking place on the street. He drove in silence, the tension in the car thick.

“You did it!” Shaun chuckled from the back. 

“Either we escaped... or we've got things very, very wrong,” the Doctor murmured, more to himself than anyone else in the car. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

-

It was inconvenient enough that the Doctor had somehow ended up back in Donna’s life, all the while trying to help her without inadvertently burning up her mind. On top of it all, of course, there had to be a bloodthirsty alien creature plotting to burn a hole through central London. As if all of that wasn’t enough for the Doctor to handle at once, you had to be there too. 

After millennia away from you, one would think that the Doctor would have taken the time to sort out his feelings about how the two of you left things. Then again, the Time Lord had never been the kind to do that. 

A part of him knew that he would see you, it was practically inevitable at this point. Wherever Donna was, you were never farther than a few steps behind. Even still, there was no preparing him for seeing you again.

Time had been anything but kind to the doctor. He’d cycled through multiple faces, half a dozen companions, weathered the Flux, and somehow came out the other side alive (not that he was any better for it). There was never an end to the trials and tribulations that he had been through. Perhaps that was his curse. 

Yet, here he was, once again putting the lives of those he loved most in danger. When would it stop? 

The very last thing he wanted was for you to follow him into the Dagger Drive control room. That was until he saw Donna trailing in after you, which was admittedly worse. 

“Chamber deadlocked,” the PA alarmed, the robotic voice echoing around the room. The door slid shut with a loud thud, effectively trapping the three of you in the control room. However, the Doctor seemed to be the only one worried by this change of events. 

“No, no no!” he snapped, tugging anxiously at his hair. “I told you to go - both of you!” 

Upon hearing his words, you cast a glance behind you, your face suddenly falling as your eyes landed on Donna. “I told you to go with Shaun!” you told her, distraught. 

“When have I ever not followed you?” Donna quipped, more than ready to argue with you over this. 

“Never mind,” the Doctor groaned, waving his hand vaguely before resuming his frantic running around the room. “I’ve got this… totally got this. All under control. You just stay there - Don’t move this time, please.” 

The Doctor ran around the control room desperately trying to shut down the ship before it killed half of Chiswick. He had managed greater feats - there had been a Christmas once when he stopped the Titanic from crashing into Buckingham Palace. He had saved civilizations, destroyed planets, fought wars, and changed history. If it meant saving the two of you, he could somehow manage to figure a way out of this. 

“Star launch in five minutes,” the ship’s announcing system informed. The Doctor let out a quiet curse, slamming a nearby button a little harder than needed.

“It’s not often that something catches your attention for longer than five minutes,” you had once said to him, watching him work on the TARDIS circuitry in the dead of night. “Most things bore you in half that time.” 

“Deadlock sealed”, the computer chirped, its AI voice somehow managing to sound condescending. “Damnit!” the Doctor groans, harshly blowing on his currently smoking Sonic Screwdriver. It wasn’t important right now, he could just build a new one. All that mattered right now was-

You placed a hesitant hand on his arm, the contact instantly silencing his racing thoughts. He looked down at you, your eyes catching. For the first time in a long time, the Doctor truly felt things could be okay. The world around them faded, the impending doom of it all falling away until all that was left was you - his stardust. 

“What’s that mean, deadlock?” Donna asked, yanking him back to the present, back to the chaotic state of affairs before him. 

“Nothing. I can do it by hand.” He was the last of the Time Lords, he could shut down a simple dagger drive on his own. He could do this, he had to do this. If he couldn’t find a way to fix this, he would lose you again. The realisation that he might not be able to survive it a second time spurred him into action. He couldn’t lose you again.

With unbridled energy, he raced around the control room, practically flying up the walls and hurling himself from one side of the small space to another. Before he was able to do anything more than switch on the parking brake, the ship’s comm system droned on again. “Maxifold bisecting. Double Dagger Drive installed and initiating.” 

The Doctor let out a loud and frustrated groan, still throwing himself back and forth like an over-caffeinated ping-pong ball. 

A screen descended from the ceiling, sectioning off the room. He worked around it for as long as he could, sliding back and forth across the floor. The effort was mostly useless as the divider eventually lowered, hitting the floor with an unsettlingly definitive thump.

“That’s okay. I can do it. Half the room, that’s fine,” he said, once more tugging at his hair. His eyes darted between you and Donna, both sectioned off on the opposite side of the room. 

Deep in his hearts he knew it was a lie. There was no feasible way for him to stop this with only one side of the room. It seemed unfair that after all of your adventures together, it would end this way. Not burning to death in Pompeii, not the Vashta Nerada, not even a whole swarm of Daleks. Instead, you would die from something as simple as his own inability to save you. 

“Let me help,” Donna said, the last words that he wanted to hear from her right now because she could. It would only cost her life, something he wasn’t ever willing to barter. 

“No! You can’t get involved,” he grumbled, bouncing back and forth on his feet. There had to be another way, there was always another way. 

“Tell me what to do,” you said softly, locking your eyes with his.

“The switches, the blue ones at the top, flick them all down.” he rasped, his voice defeatist. There wasn’t enough time for him to explain all of the controls to you. He could maybe get you through a quarter of them before the Dagger Drive took off, burning up all of Chiswick in the wake. 

“Ignition is 230,” the ship’s system announced. 

“We’re out of time,” the Doctor snapped, tugging at his hair again.  

“Don’t do that,” you tapped the thick pane of glass separating you, pulling his eyes to yours. “Tell me what to do, okay?” you practically pleaded. The Doctor hated the fear in your eyes, hated that what he was about to do was the reason for it. 

“There’s only one thing left,” he murmured, dropping his gaze from you. He couldn’t bear to look at you, not while he even considered sacrificing Donna’s life. 

“Well then, do it,” Donna snapped in her usual manner, “Hurry up and do it. What are you waiting for?” 

The Doctor looked down at the floor, the familiar sting of tears pricking the back of his eyes. “I think… all that coincidence was heading here, to save London from burning. Because you and I can stop this ship,” the Doctor said, his voice shaky with emotion. “Together,” he said regretfully, locking eyes with Donna. 

“Oh,” was all Donna had to say in response. 

“Doctor, don’t. Not again,” you pleaded, desperately trying to get him to look at you again. He hated that it had come down to this. Even more, he hated that he had to let you down again. 

“It will kill you,” the Doctor continued, forcing his eyes away from you and back to Donna.  

“Okay,” Donna inhaled sharply.

“You’ll die,” the Doctor said, his voice cracking. Was this who he was now? Sad, vulnerable, emotional, a hollow shell of a Time Lord?

“My daughter is down there. And it’s not just Rose, it's nine million people,” she pleaded. Her eyes were filled with tears, wide and begging. She looked just like she did all of those years ago, begging the Doctor to save just one person from the destruction of Pompeii.

The world may have changed a hundred times over, but Donna Noble never would. 

“Who cares about me?” Donna shrugged. She seemed so indifferent to the idea, utterly unbothered by the idea of her own demise. 

“I do!” the Doctor snapped, his voice reverberating around the small space. Then once again, but quieter, “I do.”

“Why? I’m just no one.” 

“Donna, don’t” you whispered from the floor, your voice strained. The Doctor wondered how many times you had corrected her over the years. “She needs someone to remind her that she’s brilliant. Someone she will listen to.” Maybe after all of these years, she still did. 

“I’m no one,” Donna said again, her words strained. 

“No, no you’re not!” the Doctor cried. After all of these years, how could she still not see it? She would always be indisposable. 

“Why does it have to be this?!” he cried, a look of despondence settling on his face. 

It was nothing new, not after the past few thousand years full of loss. Why did it always seem to end this way? The Ponds, River, Clara, Bill… he’d failed them all. And now he was going to do the same to you two, the very last people he had ever wanted to fail.

He’d waited for years to see you again. There had been so many times that he had wanted to, countless nights that he had to stop himself from just parking the TARDIS on your front lawn. It wasn’t fair to you; nothing that he had ever done was. 

“Westerly. Pelican. Dreams,” he started, his voice strained and dejected. 

“Please don’t do this,” you cried, “Please, I need her, Doctor. I need her.”

“Tornado. Clifftops. Adante,” he continued, clenching his eyes shut like the action might make it all go away.

“Grief. Fingerprint. Susurration,” he powered through, trying his best to ignore you. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could watch you go through his again. He wasn’t even sure he could do it himself. 

The words started to register for Donna, the pieces snapping into place. He could practically see the moment that her mind unlocked, all of the knowledge of the Time Lords flooding back into her brain. 

“Sparrow,” they said together, and the Doctor knew there was no going back now. “Dance. Mexico.” 

“Binary, binary, binary,” Donna stuttered. She had the exact same intonation she had when her mind started to burn up the first time. 

Just like she did sixteen years ago, Donna Noble blazed brighter than any star. The room flooded with regeneration energy, the bright golden light bleeding into the space around her. It was impossible to look away, even if the Doctor’s eyes stung from the brightness. For a few glorious moments, she burned brilliantly. 

As quickly as it had started, it stopped. Like turning on a switch, Donna snapped out of it, the regeneration energy dissipating around her. Her body relaxed, all of the tension easing away. Then, with practised ease, she flicked her bangs out of her eyes, steeling the Doctor with a gaze he long knew meant he was in serious trouble. 

“I gave away my money,” she snarled.

Faintly, the Doctor heard you let out a sharp chuckle. 

“Right, but are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry. 

Donna pointedly ignored his question and continued, “I gave away all my money! And do you know why, Doctor? I gave it away to be like you,” she spoke quickly, not allowing the Doctor to get a word in edgewise. He stood there awkwardly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as she continued chewing him out for something he hadn’t even realised was his fault. 

“So I could be kind, so I could be nice, so I could be helpful! I had a subconscious infractaneous retrofold memory loop making me act as soft as you and give away one hundred and sixty-six million pounds!” 

The Doctor couldn’t help but think that this was the Donna he knew - the Donna that he loved. It made him realise just how much he missed her, even if she spent most of her time yelling at him over trivial things. The constant spats over who got to pick where they went for the day, or who left the dirty mug in the kitchen sink. He missed it more than he had ever realised. 

“Yes, Donna but… destruction of London?” He ventured, knowing from experience that she could go on like this for hours. Once, Donna had engaged in an hour-long one-sided conversation with a cat she was convinced the Doctor was stuck inside of. 

“Oh, I’ll show you destruction, mate! I will triple-drive the particle manifesto, overstep the umbilical feed, vindicate the cyberline and roast the hyperfeeds. Like this!” she said with gusto, dramatically flicking a switch by her hip.

As much as it killed him to watch her mind slowly die, the Doctor couldn’t deny how magnificent it was to see Donna shine her brightest. For 55 glorious seconds, the Doctor and Donna conquered the world, best friends reunited at last. 

You felt a grand sense of peace, finally watching the two of them reunited again. In the last decade, you had seen the Doctor in all of the places that he should be. It felt almost surreal to see him like this again, staring at Donna like she had hung the stars. Silently, you watched the two of them, a small smile playing on your face. 

In one fell swoop, Donna flicked a row of switches off all at once, causing the circuit board to burst into flames. “Ignition reverse,” the computer chirped, announcing their triumph in a monotone voice. 

“It worked,” the Doctor laughed, smiling brightly at Donna. She was back, and that was all that mattered. But then she started to sag, all of the energy draining out of her as her mind slowly burned up. 

“No, no, no!” he rasped under his breath. The glass partition slowly rose and he scurried over to Donna’s side, catching her in his arms as she sank to the floor. 

“We did it,” he whispered to her, wrapping her even tighter in his arms. “She’s safe, you saved her.” 

You sank to your knees in front of them, gathering the fabric of Donna’s sleeve in your fist, holding onto her with white knuckles. It wasn’t fair, none of it was. You had just gotten them both back, things were finally the way that they should have always been and now she was dying.

“Why did this face come back?” Donna whispered weakly. 

For a brief second, the Doctor looked at you, his eyes catching yours. “I don’t know,” he murmured before looking back down at Donna. 

“To say goodbye?” Donna asked.

Perhaps that was it. If only for a minute, the Doctor got to hold his best friend one last time. They got to save the world together one last time. As Donna Noble started to fade, he got to hold her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her like it might shield her from the cruelty of the universe. 

For hundreds of thousands of years, he had loved and he had lost. But none of it would ever compare to how he felt about her. As tears slipped from his eyes, he planted one final kiss on her forehead. He wasn’t ready to bury another companion. 

Your hand moved from Donna’s shirt, desperately lacing your fingers with the Doctor’s. You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers digging into the flesh of his palm. This wasn’t how any of it was supposed to go.

The door to the control room slid open and hypnotised UNIT soldiers rushed into the room, their guns trained directly at you. “We have orders to kill you.” 

“Do what you want,” the Doctor shook his head. “Just… Don’t hurt her,” he murmured, his hand tightening around yours. He couldn’t lose both of you, it would kill him. 

The soldiers raised their guns, taking deadly aim. Before they could fire, they froze. Suddenly, the hypnotic trance was lifted, the psychedelic sun energy draining from their eyes. It rose into the air in thin tendrils of technicolour. 

“What?” the Doctor frowned in confusion. Similarly, your eyes darted around in confusion. 

Donna raised her head from the Doctor’s chest just to parrot his “What?”

“You’re not dead?” The Doctor’s attention snapped back to Donna.

“But how?” Donna asked warily, slowly sitting up. 

The intercom clicked on and Rose’s voice rang through the control room. “Mum! Can you hear me? Mum! Doctor! I think it's safe for you to come down now.” 

“Rose?” Donna whispered, still confused. 

The pieces snapped into place for the Doctor. He snapped his fingers like he always did when an idea hit him. “Too much power for one person, but you had a child, and the metacrisis passed down. A shared inheritance.”

“You’re fine?” you asked, running your hands down Donna’s arms. “You’re fine.” You murmured, more to yourself than to her. 

Donna nodded, sliding your hands into hers. 

“Don’t do that again,” you exhaled shakily, throwing your arms around her. You clung to your best friend like a lifeline, your hands tangled in the soft fabric of her striped jumper. For a brief moment, you lived in a world without Donna Noble and now you were positive that you never wanted to do that again. 

“I’ll try my best,” Donna chuckled, hugging you back. 

-

For the first time since 2007, you stepped back into the TARDIS. The inside had changed, much more than the Doctor had in the time you had been gone. The last time you had been aboard the ship, there had been coral-like branches around the perimeter, framing the rustic steampunk mess of a console. Now, the room was expansive, framed by smooth white curves that descended in ramped coils. 

It was cleaner and more sterile. You had a sickly feeling that you could spill coffee all over the place and it would leave a permanent stain, the dark liquid steeping into the stark white everything.

Almost as if reading your thoughts, the Doctor handed you a steaming mug of coffee, the cup the same bright white as the rest of the ship. It felt like slipping back into old habits - coexisting in practised ease, knowing what the other needed even before they knew themselves. 

You took a careful sip of the beverage and were pleasantly surprised to find it was exactly to your liking. 

“Cream, yeah?” he said, looking at you expectantly. 

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, your eyes lingering on his a moment too long. You saw his eyes soften, his expression relaxing. Then, it was over and he was back in action. 

“Cold milk?” He checks with Donna, already handing her a mug that matched the one you were holding. 

“Careful, this is how I lost my last job,” Donna laughs, taking the mug. “Spilled coffee on the computer. 

The Doctor hummed softly in agreement, reverently running a hand over the sleek edge of the console. “I really do remember, though,” He said softly. “ Every second with you. Both of you.” His eyes darted up to yours and you felt your heart leap into your chest. “I’m glad you're back, ‘cause it killed me. It killed me, it killed me, it killed me.” 

“We can have more days, can’t we? I mean, why is it such a big goodbye with you?” Donna replied. 

Your heart ached, remembering the last time that you had to tell the Doctor goodbye. It was all or nothing with him, and neither you nor Donna could give him everything anymore. She had Rose and you… Well, you knew better. 

“Like now. Here we are, having a coffee. What's going to go wrong?” Donna continues. 

“Don’t say th-” you squeak, only to be cut off as Donna gestures wildly, tossing coffee directly onto the console. Immediately, it bursts into flames. 

“I did it again!” Donna cries as the console starts sparking and the time rotor makes a clearly displeased whine. 

A spark flies off the burning mess that used to be the console, landing on your hand. You hiss and pull back, examining the small burn. At the same time, the TARDIS decides to start up, hurling the three of you into space while burning up.

The first time you met the Doctor still hung in the corners of your mind. You had spent hours searching for Donna, all the while fighting the growing pit in your stomach that something was wrong, before stumbling into the reception party. You were still in your wedding attire, your unreasonably uncomfortable dress shoes hanging from your hand, having given up and taken them off. Donna had put you in some silly outfit for the ordeal, something that she knew you wouldn’t even consider wearing for anyone else. But it was Donna, so of course you put it on. 

When you saw Donna, properly pissed off and frazzled, you didn’t waste a second before throwing yourself into her arms. More than anything, you were just glad she was okay. You didn’t care if she had run off to elope this handsome stranger next to her, if he was holding her captive, or even what her shithead fiance would say about it all. All that mattered at that moment was that she was safe. 

It turned out that she hadn’t eloped with the handsome stranger. Depending on who you asked, the kidnapping was up for debate. 

You’d follow Donna to the corners of the Earth - In fact, you probably had over the years. You followed her to Egypt, you’d followed her around while she searched for the Doctor, and when the time came you’d followed her onto the TARDIS. When you were still kids, your mum had once asked you if you’d follow Donna off a cliff. In more ways than one, you supposed you had. The TARDIS wasn’t quite a cliff, but the outcome felt the same.

-

The Doctor knew that you and Donna were a joint package. He knew that if he lost one, he would lose both. As all things did with him, this too would end. He would move on and you two would stay the same - you and Donna, Donna and you. You’d come with Donna, and one day you would inevitably leave with her too. 

That didn’t stop him from getting attached. It didn’t matter that he was over 900 years old, the last of his kind, or that he had lost almost everyone he had ever loved. The idea of him not growing attached to you was almost impossible. How could he not? You were everything that he’d ever allowed himself to hope for. 

He’d let his guard down, he’d grown comfortable - accustomed, even. Donna’s favourite tea in the cupboard had become second nature to him. Your charity shop coat thrown across the coral structures of the TARDIS console room, right next to his own, was something he had grown too used to. The sight of your dirty trainers discarded on the metal flooring haunted him more than any other companion ever had. He didn’t want that all to change - he didn’t want your shoes strewn across the floor if you weren’t there to trip over them. He didn’t want your favourite chipped mug in the cupboard if you weren’t using it. He didn’t want Donna’s tea to collect dust, the metal tin rusting away in the depths of the TARDIS kitchen. 

The Doctor followed a universal truth; companions always left or died. It was a destiny he had been trying to outrun for years. When they did (for whatever reason), their presence always lingered in the TARDIS, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Donna had noticed it the first time she ever entered the ship, instantly clocking Rose’s purple shirt hanging from the railing. The TARDIS herself noticed, she felt the absence inside of her very being. She’d taken to filing prior companions’ rooms away long ago, hiding them away from the Doctor and oftentimes herself. Martha’s room was still somewhere on the ship, her medical textbooks and second favourite leather jacket hidden behind a door somewhere in the depths of the endless hallways. She’d had to buy a new sports med textbook, her old one (with all of her highlights, annotations, and stray pieces of homework) still sat in the ship, likely never to be opened again. 

It was different with Donna and it was certainly different with you. He wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to file the two of you away, to hide you in the mental file folder of people he had let down, of people he had lost. 

He wasn’t sure he could handle the loss of you. It would be painful to see the lack of you in all of the places you should be - standing next to him in the control room, handing him spare parts while he repaired the console, making yourself a morning cup of tea. He feared that when you left his life, he wouldn’t be able to look at the ship the same way again. It would feel haunted in the worst way. 

In the grand scheme of his lifetime, it had been a blip, nothing more than a singular moment in time. He only had you for a mere handful of years, but it had never felt like that. As much as he hated it, he had grown to depend on you. Before he knew you, he might have been okay without you. Now, he would always feel the hole where you used to be. 

You and Donna belonged on the TARDIS, you fit into his life in a way that no one else ever had. For the first time in years, centuries even, he was truly happy. 

As much as he could, the Doctor had fallen into a sense of routine. There were things that he had just grown used to, things that he could rely on in his generally unreliable lifestyle. You always did your laundry on the TARDIS because you preferred the Laundromat to the machines back home. He knew that Donna wanted to go home once a month to check on Wilf, or that you would bring him a steaming cup of tea if he stayed up late working on the console. You never put enough sugar in it for his liking, but he’d never told you that. Maybe he should have. 

He should have known it would never last. Wanting you here forever was nothing more than wishful thinking in the first place. Perhaps the universe was playing a joke on him, or maybe it was seeking revenge for all the things he had done wrong in his painfully long life. 

Losing Donna was hard enough for him. Having to be the one to wipe her memory and explain to her mum and grandad why he could never see her again was one of the hardest things he had ever done in his long life. He felt gutted, ripped apart at his already fragile seams. There were so many people he had said goodbye to, but none of them were his best friend. Losing Donna was like losing a piece of himself, like handing away one of his hearts just to see it get run over by a truck. It was hard in ways he had never thought possible, but losing you was a whole different ordeal. He had loved Donna, yes, but never in the way that he loved you.

He loved you in a way he hadn’t loved anyone in the longest time. Even if he didn’t want to, even if he knew it wasn’t possible, he loved you. It wasn’t something he wanted to admit to himself, and it was something that he could never admit to you, but it was true. Just as much a fact as the sky being blue (though, the Doctor knew that the sky wasn’t really blue. Humans didn’t have the optical ability to see the true colour of the sky. The Doctor thought that was truly a shame, it was one of his favourite colours).

Even without it being said, there was something there. The two of you had never loved each other the way that the Doctor loved Donna. You hung in the space between; not quite together, but so much more than just friends. Maybe, if the two of you had time, he would have found his way to you. In the end, he always did. It was impossible not to, you were like a magnet to him. Nothing had ever come as easy to him as loving you. 

He tried not to love you, he really did. But if he hadn’t been able to stop over the last year, he wasn’t going to be able to stop now. Loving you ruined him, body and soul, but he couldn’t seem to shake himself from it. 

Losing Donna was painful for the Doctor, but it was life-ruining for you. It was practically excruciating to see the best part of your best friend's life be wiped away in an instant. 

“When I’m with the Doctor, I feel like I’m actually something. Someone,” Donna had told you once. “Like my life finally has a purpose. This is it, this is where I’m meant to be.” 

Donna wouldn’t even be able to mourn what she lost, because she couldn’t even remember that she lost it. Perhaps that was the cruellest fate of them all. 

Never again would you sit on her floor on the TARDIS, organising her CDs and making fun of the Doctor. You wouldn’t ever complain to her about the Time Lord, or yell into her pillow because of how utterly frustrating he could be. She wouldn’t remember him, she wouldn’t remember the room she had outfitted on the TARDIS, she wouldn't remember those late nights. But you would, they would always be stitched into the seams of your memories. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t get rid of them.

You wanted to scream at the Doctor, beg him to give you your best friend back. He could destroy civilisations, save worlds, and build empires, why couldn’t he fix this? Why did he have to put you in a position to choose? 

The Doctor had figured you would stay with him. In his mind, there wasn’t another option. He needed you. To you, the answer was obvious. Donna Noble came first. She always did. 

Now, you were gone, but months ago you had been here. Your memory was already haunting him, fragments of you handing in his periphery. His eyes landed on the front doors of the TARDIS, his mind already filling in the blanks. 

Only a few weeks ago, he had found you sitting with your legs dangling out of the open doors, feet idly kicking into the open air of space. He was sure if it was any other ship, flown by any other alien, you wouldn’t even consider sitting out in the open expanse of space, but you had grown to trust the Doctor and his TARDIS with more than just your life. 

Donna had long since gone to bed, she was probably fast asleep wrapped up in the Egyptian cotton sheets she got from her first trip to the 1920s. You, on the other hand, found yourself unable to sleep, fancy cotton sheets or not. It wasn’t necessarily a frequent problem for you, but sometimes after steady weeks of adventuring, you weren’t able to sleep as easily. On those nights, you’d stay up with the Doctor. He would never openly admit it, but he liked the company. 

Used to this routine, the Doctor had sat down silently next to you, his long legs draping over the edge of his beloved ship. For a minute neither of you said anything, just looking out at the stars. The silence settled around the Doctor like a familiar blanket. For once, he didn’t feel the pressing need to fill it with chatter.

It had been a beautiful night in space, though the Doctor supposed he’d never seen one that wasn’t. A glittering array of stars and soft nebulas filled his vision, a couple of far-off planets hidden behind stardust. It didn’t matter that he’d seen it billions of times, nothing else really compared to the feeling of just sitting in outer space, basking in the soft starlight. 

“Have I ever told you about binary stars?” the Doctor murmured, his face still turned out toward the galaxy. From here, you could take a minute to admire his side profile. 

“No, I don’t think you have,” you replied, tearing your gaze away from him. “Tell me.” 

The Doctor reached his arm out and pointed at two sparkling spheres in the distance. They were nestled right next to each other in the dark, huddled together like penguins weathering out a storm. 

“They’re stars that orbit the same centre of gravity, permanently bound together by it. Most of the stars are part of a binary system, actually,” he explains, his quiet voice ringing out into the night. “Normally you can’t see them as separate entities with your naked eye, but, well…” 

“Being literally in space changes that,” you finish for him. 

“Exactly.”

“Over time the stars lose momentum and slowly gravitate towards each other until they collide in a supernova,” the Doctor continued, still looking out into space with a forlorn look. “Or if one explodes first, it forms a pulsar. The companion star, the dimmer one that is, will be destroyed. Either way, they’re the death of each other.” 

“Companion stars?” you chuckle, leaning your head against the solid wood of the doorframe. Now it was the Doctor’s turn to look at the soft outline of your profile. 

“Or secondary star, B-star, you get the idea,” he utters quickly, just a few ticks faster than his normal dialect. 

“Are we smaller stars to you?” you ask after a beat, gazing out at the pair of stars in the distance. In a way he envied them, two entities intertwined forever, always a joined force in the stark expanse of the cosmos.

“No,” the Doctor said almost instantly. “Never smaller, or lesser, or whatever other word you want to use. Never that. There’s never been anything bigger than you. Ever.” 

“Are the other stars called the Doctor star? Time Lord star?” you teased with a wide smile, the expression taking over your entire face. He loved when you smiled like that, your whole face practically illuminating the room. 

“First, it’s the brighter star. And, no, they’re the primary stars,” he scoffs, trying to hide the beginnings of his own smile. It was hard not to smile back when you looked at him like that. 

“Which one’s the companion?” you asked, nodding in the general direction of the stars in the distance. From your spot, they looked the same, so similar you might have even mistaken them for one entity at first glance. 

“Can’t tell from here,” the Doctor shrugged. “The TARDIS could tell us,” he looks back at the console, ready to get up and check. He was starting to realise he would do anything for you, and that kind of power was dangerous. 

You shook your head, silently telling him to stay. “It’s not important, I just figured you’d know.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t know everything.” 

“I know,” you say simply. There were plenty of things the Doctor didn’t know, though it was rare for him to admit it. He didn’t know your birthday, or at least the proper date on first guess. He didn’t know Donna’s middle name, and most importantly, he didn’t seem to know how much he meant to you. 

The silence settled back over you for a while. You sat like that for a while, sitting a little too close together and staring out into the universe before you. The binary star system hung in his field of vision, seemingly burning brighter than any other celestial body in his view. He couldn’t help but cling to the idea of them. 

“The primary star is usually the one to explode, killing its companion,” the Doctor broke the silence. “It is literally the cause of the other’s death.” 

“If I was a binary star, I’m not sure I would mind all that much.” 

“Of course not, stars aren’t capable of thought processes or emotions-” he frowned, already correcting your statement. 

“Metaphorically,” you cut him off before he could talk himself into circles; he was always really good at that. 

“Oh,” he said, softer this time. “Why? Why wouldn’t you mind, that is.” 

“Space is so big, everything is so far apart. If you’re a star, you just occupy your gravity all alone. But if one day, another star comes along and dips into that space… well, life isn’t so lonely anymore, is it?” 

The Doctor shook his head, the spiky strands of his hair bouncing from the motion. “They kill each other.” 

“Wouldn’t you risk it too? For that companionship, that love, that brief moment of contact before you combust? I know I would.” 

“You have to kill your best friend, your partner. I’m not sure that’s worth it,” the Doctor argued. He was tired of losing people, tired of being the last one standing, tired of being the cause of all of those deaths. Maybe it should be called a “Time Lord star”.

“Would you rather be alone for the rest of your life?” you asked, turning back toward him. His eyes caught yours and he had to fight back tears. He didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his life, he wanted to be with you. With Donna. He would burn until he died out if he had to if it meant he could keep you. He would give you his hearts if he could - crack his ribs open and pry them out with his bare hands. 

“Yes,” he lied, his voice cracking ever so slightly. It was nothing more than a pipedream, the idea that things would always be this way. He knew that, but it didn't make the inevitable blow any softer. You were never his to keep. 

“We aren’t talking about stars anymore, are we?” you whisper. No, no we aren’t, he thought. Your words had hung in the air, the silence palpable. 

Now, almost half a year later, his worst fears were coming true. He had drawn you too far into his gravitational pull and now he was going to lose you, just like he had lost everyone else. 

The crash was inevitable. He couldn’t have the two of you forever, at some point, it was going to end. Binary stars always ended in explosions. It was only a matter of time before one of them went supernova.

Your voice tore him out of his thoughts. “So this is goodbye,” you whispered sadly, gazing down at the floor. You couldn’t look at him, not without breaking down. You’d never thought it would come to this. 

“You can’t leave,” the Doctor’s voice almost cracked, his words strained. “I can’t lose you.” 

“I can’t stay.” 

“Yes, you can,” he pleaded. You didn’t have to respond to that, you both knew that the decision was already made. It was made the second that he wiped Donna’s mind. 

The Doctor slumped against the console, the motion pained and dejected. “I just lost my best friend, I can’t lose you too” the Doctor cried, practically begging you. 

“So did I!” you snapped. “I go with you and I lose the last bit of her I have left.” 

“I can drop you off, you can always visit-” 

“I’m not leaving her, Doctor,” you said definitively, refusing to budge on the matter. “She just lost the most wonderful year of her life - she lost you. I’m not going to be another thing she loses.” 

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other.” 

“It always is with you,” you murmured. The words hung in the air, the Doctor unable to argue with them. He couldn’t do the grey areas, he had never been any good at them. There wasn’t just getting coffee or catching up with him, there was always something more. 

“She needs someone,” you added softly. 

“She has Wilf and Sylvia.” 

“She needs someone to remind her that she’s brilliant. Someone she will listen to.”

The Doctor didn’t have to respond to that, both of you knew it wasn’t the same. Donna needed someone there to remind her that she could be amazingly brilliant, and you were the only person who could really do that. You were the only one to see just how important Donna Noble was to the whole world, the universe even. 

The only thing he could do was stare at you, silently committing your face to memory. You were already there, hidden in the corners of his mind. He didn’t need to memorise you, you were burned into him. There was no forgetting you. He wanted so desperately not to lose you, even the faint memory of you that would always linger in his mind. His eyes danced over your features, mapping every single curve and spot that he had grown to know so well. He wasn’t sure he could forget you, even if he wanted to. A little bit of you was permanently stitched into his very being. 

“You were the best part of my life,” you whisper, breaking the silence. 

“Your life isn’t over.” 

“I already know. There’s no beating you, Doctor. I-” your words caught in your throat. 

“I love him,” you had whispered to Donna months ago, the two of you curled up on the TARDIS library couch. “I love him irreversibly, I don’t think I could stop loving him if I tried.” You had tried, continuously even. It wasn’t meant to be, yet you couldn’t let him go. 

“I love you,” you finally admitted to him, your voice a cracked whisper. The words weren’t a surprise to the Doctor. Frankly, you hadn’t expected them to be. 

The two of you had danced around it for so long, lost in your own waltz of messy feelings. If you just kept avoiding it, wouldn’t it go away? But there was no more avoiding it, this was it. The last time you would ever see the Doctor. 

“If I say it back will you stay?” he whispered, his voice raw. 

“No,” you said instantly, a part of you hoping he’d say it anyway. He only nodded, his gaze falling to the floor. You don’t know why you’d expected anything else. It didn’t matter if you were walking out of his life, he couldn’t say it. You weren’t sure he would ever be ready to say it. 

“Thank you,” he murmured after a beat. The words didn’t feel like enough, but they were all he had. 

“I should be the one thanking you, not the other way around,” you chuckled sadly. “For showing me all of the universe and the things it has to offer.” 

The Doctor shook his head, his spiky fringe drooping across his browline. “No, really. Thank you, for everything.” He would never be able to thank you enough for all that you had done for him; the countless nights you’d spent just sitting with him long after he should have gone to bed, all the times you’d talked him out of a spiral, the comforting squeeze of your hand in his. His life was undoubtedly better with you in it, and now you were walking out of it. The worst part was that he was powerless against it, there was nothing he could do to make you stay. 

Unceremoniously, you slung your arms around him one last time. He allowed his own arms to snake around your middle, holding you tighter than he ever had. If he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of you, he could almost convince himself you weren’t leaving. His nose slotted perfectly into your neck, it was so natural he didn’t even have to think about it. 

“I’m going to miss you, spaceman,” you whispered, so quiet only the Doctor could hear. 

It felt as if his hearts were being ripped out of his chest. He didn’t want to be this vulnerable, especially not in front of you. His mind grappled with the crushing weight of it all, frantically trying to scoop the last shreds of his dignity off the ground. 

“I’ll miss you too, stardust,” he whispered, his voice strained. How was he expected to survive this? How could he be expected to do anything without you? 

When you pulled away from the hug, there was the faintest hint of tears in your eyes. The sight only served to break the Doctor’s hearts further. He hated when you were sad, and he absolutely loathed it when he was the cause. 

His hand reached out and brushed the stray tear from your cheek, swiping his thumb across the soft skin, his hand just barely quivering. You exhaled shakily, your breath ghosting across the Doctor’s skin. 

“Goodbye,” you murmured, your voice cracking. 

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from the embrace, taking a step back. It took everything in the Doctor not to reach out for you and pull you back into him. 

“Goodbye,” he whispered back. 

He desperately wanted to wake up and find this was all some horrible nightmare. He longed to jolt awake like he did the many times he had dreamed of the horrors of the Time War. In the morning, this would be nothing more than a false memory that had plagued his unconscious mind. He would wake up, and you would be there. Donna would be there. 

He blinked slowly, clenching his eyes shut with the hope that he would open them and this would all be fixed. After a beat, he slowly opened them again, but you were gone. 

The TARDIS had never felt so empty. 

-

You closed the door to the TARDIS carefully, your fingers lingering on the worn, blue wood of the ship. Once it was closed, you allowed yourself to sag against the doors. You took a second to gather yourself before stepping away from the ship. Only then did the tears start to fall.

As the TARDIS dematerialised, your cries turned into full sobs. The sound that once felt like home now felt like a fatal wound. You weren’t sure this was something you could ever get over, no matter how hard you tried. 

It didn’t matter how hard your heart was breaking, you had other places to be. Donna needed you, and you weren’t going to abandon her. Now, or ever. Donna Noble always came first. 

Hastily wiping your tears, you tugged the front door of the Noble residence open. You started slowly slipping off your shoes, kicking them dejectedly onto the wet mat by the coat rack. Just as you were easing off your left trainer, Donna rounded the corner. You didn’t even have time to register the fact that she was now awake, or even ask her how she was feeling before she started fretting over you. 

“Oh no, I know that look,” she chided, immediately taking your coat from your hands. 

“What look?” you plastered a smile on your face, the effort mitigated by your already blotchy face.

“Your sad one,” she stuck her finger in your face, “I don’t like it.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not. Was it work? A bloke? A bloke at work?” she rambled on, growing increasingly irritated at the mere concept of someone upsetting her best friend. She would burn the world down for you if given the chance. No one meant more to Donna than you did. 

“It was Josh, wasn’t it? I always hated him, but you already knew that. Not like I was ever secretive about it.” Of course she figured it was work, she didn’t remember that you had quit months ago. Time Travel wasn’t exactly compatible with a working schedule. Before you could respond and tell her no, it most certainly was not Josh, she was already going on again. “We’re going to have a pint of ice cream and then you’re moving on, got it?” she instructed, chattering on as if it was that simple. Maybe if it had been anyone else it would be that simple. Things were never simple when it came to the Doctor. 

“Okay,” you nodded. The last thing you wanted to do right now was say no to the incredible force that is Donna Noble.

-

The Doctor sat across from Wilfred Mott, idly running a finger along the edge of his coffee cup. He didn’t drink coffee, at least not black coffee, so the drink sat untouched. He’d always loved the man, but lately, he was the last person the Doctor wanted to see. Wilf was just one more painful reminder of all that he had lost. 

He didn’t understand why Wilf had picked this cafe, or even a cafe at all. There were hundreds on the street, yet he had seemed dead set on this one. It wasn’t even a nice one - the seats were cracked, the mugs chipped and mismatched, and the table was littered with scratches. The Doctor idly ran his pointer finger over a set of initials someone had carved into the wood, an eternal declaration of love. 

Pulling his gaze back up to the other side of the table, he found Wilf staring intently out the window. It almost looked like he was waiting for something. 

“What?” the Doctor asked, following his gaze with a furrowed brow. 

Outside on the street was Donna, packing up cardboard boxes into her car. As if seeing his best friend wasn’t painful enough, you rounded the corner, calling after the redhead. Suddenly it all made sense why Wilf had insisted on this particular cafe. 

“I'm sorry, but I had to. Look, can’t you make her better?” Wilf pleaded. 

“Stop it,” the Doctor growled, tearing his gaze away from the pair. He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on this. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about you, it would only cause him to spiral. 

“No, but you’re so clever. Can’t you bring her memory back? Look, just go to her now. Go on, just run across the street. Go up and say hello,” Wilf continued.

“If she ever remembers me, her mind will burn, and she will die.”

“They miss you, both of them.” 

The Doctor’s eyes faltered, wandering back to the pair of you on the street. Now, Donna was yelling at a traffic warden, her angry voice carrying into the diner. Her voice was hauntingly familiar, and only then did he realise just how much he had missed Donna’s fury. 

“She’s not changed,” he chuckled. 

“Couldn’t if she tried.” 

“And…” the Doctor asked, not daring to directly ask how you were. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Deep in his hearts, he longed for you to be happy. Yet, he didn’t think he could bear the pain of it. 

“They’re fine too. Working at the university now, a big cushy job and all.” 

The Doctor nodded. Of course, you were. At least you were happy.

“She’s getting married,” Wilf said, looking back out at his granddaughter. It took the Doctor a full second to realise he had been talking about Donna, not you. For a moment, panic rushed into his brain. He knew it would come one day, it was all part of you moving on. New job, new haircut, probably someone new to love too. He just wasn’t ready for that day to be today. 

“Another wedding?” he said, trying to play off the split second of panic. 

“Yeah.” 

“Is she happy? Is he nice?” The Doctor turned his gaze back to the mug in front of him, staring at the rapidly cooling coffee like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Yeah, he’s sweet enough. He’s a bit of a dreamer. Mind you, he’s on minimum wage, she’s earning tuppence, so all they can afford is a tiny little flat. And then sometimes I see this look on her face like she’s so sad, but she can’t remember why.” 

“She’s got him.” That was more than the Doctor could say. He didn’t have anyone, least of all the two people he wanted most. He’d spent the last year running around, searching for anything to fill the hole the two of you had left in his hearts. He had spent all that time forcing you out of the corners of his mind, chopping away at pieces of himself to rid himself of the ache. As much as he tried, he just kept seeing you in all of the places you should be. 

“She’s making do.” 

“Aren’t we all?” the Doctor chuckled dryly. His whole life he’d been making do, building the blueprints of a life out of abandoned scraps he’d found on the side of the road. He’d been living in a house of cards, and one day it was bound to fall down. 

“Yeah, how about you? Who have you got now?” Wilf asked. The Doctor wanted to scoff at the idea. There was no replacing Donna, no replacing you. 

“No one. Travelling alone. I thought it was better, but…” he trailed off. It wasn’t true, he never once thought that travelling without you and Donna was better. He swallowed, pushing the threat of tears back down. The two of you had moved on, it was time he did too. 

“You need them, Doctor. I mean, look. Wouldn’t they make you laugh again?”

The truth was, you would. Both of you. Together, you could make everything better. 

-

One last goodbye. He was at least owed that, wasn’t he? One last goodbye before he let go. 

He figured he ought to at least wish Donna a happy marriage, even if he couldn’t do it directly. Before it all went down, Wilf had told him they were struggling, her and Shawn. The Doctor hated the idea of her in a shoebox flat, Donna Noble couldn't be squeezed in like that. At the very least, he could set them up for their new life. He wasn’t sure what constituted a lot of money, certainly not what constituted a lot of money in 2010. The best he could come up with was a winning lottery ticket. 

He’d completely forgotten that in delivering the envelope with the winning ticket snuggled safely inside he would run into you. For a moment, he was taken aback by the sight of you, fretting about the bride in your wedding attire. You looked beautiful, but then again you always did. When his eyes met yours, it felt like the whole world had stopped. He practically froze when you started walking toward him. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice tense. The Doctor immediately felt as if he’d done something wrong. 

“Will you give this to Donna?” he asked softly, handing over the envelope. Warily, you took it from his outstretched hand. 

“What is it?” 

“Lottery ticket, should be enough for them to start their new life,” the Doctor explained, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. 

You nodded, staring down at the taupe envelope in your hands. “I’ll give it to her.”

The two of you stood in silence for a minute, neither of you venturing to speak. The only sounds in the area were the runoff of chatter from the wedding and the gentle chirp of birds in the nearby trees. 

The Doctor had so many things he wanted to say, yet none of them felt like enough. This was the last time he was ever going to see you with this face - possibly at all - and he couldn’t come up with anything. 

It’s not that he didn’t have things to say. Oh, he had so many things to say. A full year alone left him in a jumble of his own thoughts. He was still trying to detangle the webs of his mind. That wasn’t going to be his problem anymore, let the next one handle it. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. 

“For what?” 

“Everything,” he said. “For what happened with Donna, and what happened with us.” 

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered, fiddling with the envelope in your hands. “For leaving you and all of that.” 

The Doctor shook his head. “It turned out okay,” he lied. 

“You got someone new?” 

“No,” he said instantly. Of course, he didn’t have someone new, how could you think that? He didn’t just move on, especially not from Donna and you. “No, I don’t.” 

“You need someone.” 

“I’ve been fine,” he lied again. In reality, he had been far from fine. The TARDIS felt hauntingly empty without you. He missed Donna’s tabloid magazines scattered across the control room, the last book you were reading discarded on the surface of the console, and the half-empty tea mugs from both of you sitting in the sink for days on end, he missed it all. No matter what he did, he couldn’t fix it.

“I miss you,” you whispered so softly the Doctor wasn’t even sure he heard you correctly. 

“Then come back,” he practically begged. It didn’t matter how much he changed, how different this new Doctor was going to be, he would always love you. He would always need you. 

“I can’t do that.”

“I’d rather have five days a year with you than anyone else all the time,” he uttered, fighting his way through the stabbing pain in his body. He didn’t have much time left. But then again, he never did. 

“Goodbye, Doctor.”