|A Shadow in Chiswick
Author: Well Widget PM
A sequel to my stories Shadows at Midnight and Wouldn't It Be Nice: A Journey's End fix-it, focused on Donna and Wilf during the specials. Some people remember Donna Noble, but she doesn't remember her own adventures. Some people don't approve of that. Donna and the Doctor saved a lot of people, now it's time to repay the favour.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - 10th Doctor & Donna N. - Chapters: 7 - Words: 6,734 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 22 - Updated: 03-09-13 - Published: 10-11-12 - id: 8600735
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. If I did, Donna would still be a companion and things would have gone very differently.
AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I'm afraid I got eaten by real life, which is not as fun as being eaten by fic.
Wilfred Mott was accustomed to late nights. He spent so much of his time watching the stars that it wasn't uncommon for him to find himself coming back from his hill to a barely lit kitchen. In fact, it was so common, that at first, he didn't realise he wasn't alone, until he heard the tell-tale sniffling.
Putting down his thermos, he flicked on the light over the sink and was startled to find Donna weeping. There were no heavy sobs, just small sniffles and almost constant tears. It was so unlike his little general, that he sat beside her and took her hand. "What's all this now, Donna?"
"He's so sad." Donna murmured softly. "He didn't think any heartbreak could be worse than losing everything - but now he's lost even hope. He's never lost that." She wiped at her eyes. "He's being a stupid, stupidprawn, because I'm not there to stop him, and part of him is in love with the idea of death, while part of him is fighting tooth and nail to survive." Donna's hands trembled around her mug of tea, gone cold now. "I don't even know what I'm saying Gramps, but I miss him. I miss him so much it aches - and I don't even know who."
Wilf wrapped his arms tighter around his granddaughter, and shushed her, letting her cry. "I'm sure, whoever he is, he misses you too, and I'm sure he's smart enough to come back for you." He certainly prayed it was so, for both their sakes.
Donna recovered from her ridiculous cry the next day, and shook herself. Her Gramps was so sweet to her, putting up with insanity that seemed to be leaking from her brain. She was so off-put as to call up the clinic and make an appointment. She didn't think she'd be able to get Dr. Chesterton at such short notice, but they fit her in before lunch even. So, she wasn't too upset when she had to sit and wait for longer than usual in the waiting room.
Still, she surprised herself when she recognised one of the women leaving, with a young man. "Sarah Jane!" She said happily, knowing instantly that she likedthis woman, though she couldn't really place where or why. "How are you?"
"Donna?" The older woman said in surprise. "Are you all right? What are you doing here?" Sarah Jane had no idea that the redhead's memory had been wiped, or that she was back home.
"Dr. Chesterton's been treating me for headaches, but it's been creating the oddest dreams, I thought I ought to see her about it." Donna smiled at Luke and held out her hand. "Is this your son, Luke?"
"Yes." Sarah Jane said easily. "Luke this is Donna, a friend of the Doctor."
Somehow, Donna knew she wasn't talking about Dr. Chesteron, and she would have asked more, but the nurse came out and called for Donna to follow her back, just then, as if the universe wanted to keep what she knew from her own mind just a little longer.
"I understand why you're concerned, Donna, I really am." Dyoni said with a cluck of her tongue. "I did warn you that we didn't know what kind of effect the treatments would have on your memory. At this point, however, I would be concerned about changing your treatments, since the headaches have disappeared, but if you want to risk it..."
"No," Donna said quickly. "I don't want to risk the headaches coming back. I'll take the bugs and big blue box."
"Big blue box?" Dyoni said, somewhat surprised. "My parents talk about a blue box all the time, a police box."
"Really?" Donna said.
"Really." Dyoni replied. "I shouldn't do this, but..." She grabbed a paper towel from above the sink and scrawled a number on it. "Here, give them a call, maybe they can help. It's a long shot, but it can't hurt."
Donna took the towel, grateful for the phone number, and found herself wishing she had asked Sarah Jane for hers, before leaving the clinic and heading home, wondering why the blue box was so important.