Disclaimers: I don't own Doctor Who, or any of the characters therein. This is a JE fix-it.
Summary: 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.
Donna Noble didn't like her memory being full of holes, but her family assured her that she would be fine. She tried to believe them, but there was an ache that refused to be ignored. It was more than the feeling that she had forgotten something, it was as if something was missing, like being heartbroken after being left by a boyfriend magnified a hundred times. She would roll over in the middle of the night, open her eyes and look about, as if she should be somewhere else, feeling uncomfortably warm. She had a strange aversion to her normal coffee, and found herself making tea instead, always two on instinct, though she didn't know why. Wilf, her dear old Granddad, claimed it was him, good for his heart, that she was only looking out for him, but she saw through the lie, and the sadness in his eyes every time it happened.
Then there were the migraines. Every time she asked people what she had been doing or tried to discover what she had been doing in the year of her lost memory, the migraines came. They made her skull feel as if it was splitting. She had gone to doctor after doctor, but every time she knew she hadn't found the right one. Her GP, the A&E doctors, even the neurologists had no idea what had put her through such pain. Her mother, oddly worried, told her to ignore them, like a bee. Donna just stopped telling her about it, and thought of Agatha Christie.
As a last-ditch effort, she went to a clinic she had heard about, in London, built where Canary Wharf had been destroyed. It was the odd-man out, a clinic in a financial center, but no one seemed to mind. She got into the blue car she shared with her mother, feeling another migraine start behind her eyes.
The drive was uneventful, much to her relief as she had to mentally command her eyes to focus repeatedly, and then, sooner than she had expected, she was pulling into the car park of the modern building, feeling another wave of nervousness that she always did, going to clinics for this.
The inside was as white as she expected, with only a few people scattered around the room. She fell into a seat, and picked up the latest issue of Tatler.
She was flicking through the pages, surprisingly uninterested, when she felt someone staring at her. "What?" She challenged, blue eyes flashing at the man who looked like a boy playing soldier, with a silly red hat.
"Ma'am." The soldier said, jumping up and offering her a deep salute.
"What you on about?" Donna shot back. "Are you saying I look old?"
The soldier look surprised, but shook his head and sat back down, looking at her in puzzlement, but shook his head. "My mistake."
Before she can correct his assumptions, however, a young man appeared in the doorway. "Donna Noble?" He said, gesturing to her. "If you'll follow me?"
The bit before the doctor showed up was the same as always, if slightly higher tech than she would have expected. She found herself slightly embarrassed about her weight, even though she was probably in the best shape of her life and the questions were answered as readily as possible.
The nurse left with the usual words that the doctor would see her shortly, and Donna was left, looking about at the best reproductions of impressionist paintings she had ever seen as she waited to see yet another doctor, not particularly hopeful. No one had been able to figure anything out yet, after all. So, she convinced herself that this was the last one. The last time she would try. After this, she would listen to her Mum and Gramps. Live in the moment, rather than trying to remember.
Just as she resolved that, there was a knock on the door and it opened with ease. "Hello," the female doctor said easily, her brunette hair bouncing in easy waves. "Donna, is it? I'm Dr. Chesterton, but you can call me Dyoni."
"Pleasure to meet you," Donna said, offering her a smile as she shook her head, already starting to like this doctor more than her previous ones.
"I've had a look over your files and your previous tests, and I think I've found a therapy that may help - it will definitely reduce or eliminate the migraines and may bring back your memories - but I have to warn you that it's experimental."
Donna was surprised, expecting another bevy of tests and a sad shake of the head - or worse, offering to call for a psych consult. "But there's a chance it'll stop the pain?"
"Definitely." Dyoni replied with a smile. "Though we are unsure about it's effect on your memory issues, we'd be hopeful. You look like a perfect candidate."
"Sign me up!" Donna said, getting her hopes up despite herself. "What do I have to do?"
"One injection every week for four weeks, and a course of medications - three pills three times a day, with meals for three months. We'll reevaluate then." Dr. Chesterton told her easily. "If you're certain, we can give you the injection and pills today."
For once, Donna was sure that things were looking up. "Yes." She said, desperately trying not to sound to eager.
Half an hour later, Donna had a sore bum from the injection and was holding three bottles of pills. "So, no alcohol, no smoking, no other medications or vitamins for as long as I'm taking these?" She confirmed with the pleasant doctor.
"That's right." Dyoni replied, holding the exam room door open for her. "And if you go to the front desk, Melissa will make your appointment for next week."
Dyoni Chesterton made sure that the woman had left the building completely, before returning to her office, and activating a hidden switch that revealed a secondary elevator. She stepped in and hit the down button.
Before long, she stepped out and her heels were clicking along a concrete floor. The large main room was dominated by computer screens and CCTV monitors, but the brunette paid them no mind as she headed down a hallway, opening a door and announcing, "Phase one complete."
The sole occupant was a tall ginger-haired teenager, who was sitting in an office chair and facing a wall, and making sniffling sounds that sounded almost like crying.
Dyoni paused, startled. "Mina?" She said slowly. "Are you all right?"
Mina, turned, her large brown eyes rimmed in red, but she wiped at them violently, clearing her throat. "Fine, I'm fine."
"You don't look it." Dyoni said eying the girl up from the toes of her brown boots to the crown of her head. She seemed to want to ask something, than shook herself. "Phase one is complete."
"Brilliant." Mina said easily, ripping a bright purple sticking plaster off her arm. "I suppose it's my turn then. Thank you, Dyoni."
"Anytime, Boss." Dyoni replied, shaking her head. What would Three think of this if they knew? "Good luck."