Campbell appeared out of the day room in St Jude's Hospital for the mentally ill, not entirely pleased to see his father standing there looking stern "Dad? What's wrong?" he thought to ask.
"Hello, son. I've come to ask what you're going to do now," he replied.
Campbell looked about the hospital room at a loss as to what he could say in answer. As a mental patient could he even dare make plans about his future beyond the ones he had formed thanks to Eddie and the next DJ set on the Hospital Radio.
"I want to become a radio DJ," Campbell immediately enthused. "Did you bring any of my mail for me?"
"No, son. Nothing has come in the post for you," his dad replied, knowing full well what his son was hoping for.
His father never mentioned Donna's visitation, the birth of his daughter, the fact she existed in the first place, his deception in giving her to Tabetha and Augustus Pond or anything else that might remotely interest him about the last six months or so.
"Oh." Campbell looked downhearted.
"What's this about the radio?" his dad queried.
With that Campbell launched into his explanation about the appearance of Eddie McKenna in the hospital, and the way it had changed the lives of many of the patients in St Jude's. Not that Campbell expected his father to be pleased, and inevitable his dreams were scoffed at as being stupid and delusional. His father may have separated him from Donna, telling him that he was better without her, and that she had gone off with someone else, but he could never take away his ultimate dream.
As for Donna, she was carefully monitored by her parents for many years, ever vigilant to make sure she didn't make the same mistake again. But Donna never really recovered from the incident; locking her heart away beneath a façade of indifference.
It would all return with a bang when she happened to glimpse the metacrisis Duplicate with messy wet hair as they played about during those golden moments in the TARDIS; making her go weak at the knees. As he smiled at her, she gasped out in emotional pain as the full horror of her delusion hit home, "Campbell!"
He had immediately comforted her. "We'll find him together. I promise we'll try if we get the time," he told her, knowing she had willingly ignored the similarities between the Doctor and Campbell in the past, and understanding what it would mean to her to find her first true love.
But it was not to be… at least it seemed so, until the TARDIS took things into her own 'hands'. She decided to find Donna's daughter for her, and let her see some of the glory her mother had bequeathed to the universe. And that is why Amelia Pond was sought out by the TARDIS one fateful day when the newly formed Doctor needed a friend, a best friend, to help him stop when necessary.
And that was it for Donna, or so it would seem.
When she thought to check the lottery numbers after her wedding reception she was in for a massive shock or two. The first one was the fact she had won eight million pounds! The second was that drinking champagne all night does not make you feel terrific the following morning, or even the day after. The third was the media attention due to the fact being drunk on champagne makes you blab to the world that you have just won the lottery. The forth was that her marriage barely made it to their first anniversary when the strains of sudden wealth forced them apart and Shaun, her husband, into the arms of someone else. But the final shock was when she arrived at the BBC Radio studios to be interviewed about the trials and tribulations of being a lottery winner.
As she finished talking to the early morning radio hosts, the producer took her aside and asked Donna very surreptitiously if she minded meeting another radio presenter.
"I don't see why not," Donna readily answered. "Who is it?"
A soft voice behind her said, "Me."
Hearing a distinctively familiar Scottish accent, she whirled around to be confronted by someone more than vaguely recognisable. "Campbell? Is that you?" she cried.
He gazed back at her in wonder, and stepped forward to engulf her in a huge hug. "It's me, Donna. I can't believe I found you at last."
"Found me? But I wasn't missing," she feebly replied, clinging onto him for all she was worth. "You're the one that disappeared."
"Can we go somewhere to talk?" he begged when he released his tight hold.
"Of course," she agreed without thinking. There were still too many unanswered questions in her mind that needed closure.
Stepping outside Broadcasting House, he hailed a taxi, and they both sat anxiously on the seat whilst various London sights whooshed by. "How have you been?" he finally asked to break the silence.
"Fine. I just got divorced, or will be in a week," she supplied, not knowing what to say.
"How come you're here in London?" she asked in return.
"I came down to stay with an old friend. It looks as though I'll be offered a job here," he said proudly.
"Same to you." At that point they turned up at their destination. "This is it," he announced, and helped her out.
A few minutes later they were sat with a pot of tea in front of them and a plate of cakes. Donna could stand it no longer; she had to know. "What happened to you, Campbell? Where did you go?"
Campbell shifted about nervously. "Dad had me committed," he eventually confessed.
"What?!" she had to stop herself from shrieking. "Your dad kept telling me he had no idea where you were," she told him bitterly.
"Perhaps I wasn't the only one with mental problems," he replied. Then he seemed to realise what she had said. "He told you…? When did you speak to him?"
"Whenever I phoned, when my aunt knocked on the door several times, when I turned up on his doorstep… when my world ended," she sadly related.
He gasped. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I thought you had abandoned me," he stammered out.
"Never," she firmly stated, shaking her head. "I tried for months to contact you."
"I was in St Jude's Hospital, diagnosed with manic depression," he supplied. "I didn't see Dad for ages, and then one day he turned up out of the blue and asked me what I was going to do with my future; as if I had a choice." Campbell huffed indignantly. "It wasn't until Eddie McKenna turned up at the hospital radio station that I dared to dream again of a career in music. Soon after, I was offered my first position as a DJ." He then turned his soft brown eyes onto her. "I often thought about you, wondering what you were doing, how you used your A levels."
"I thought about you constantly too. I never really did use my A levels," she confessed. "Taking my exams was delayed a bit, and I couldn't settle on a permanent career. I've drifted from one job to another."
"Why the delay? Did something happen?" he innocently asked.
She snorted in derision. "Did something happen," she repeated with disdain. "It certainly did! A whacking great big something."
"Didn't your dad tell you?" she asked instead scornfully, her voice wavering. "Did he tell you about the…?"
"Donna, tell me," he pleaded when he saw her distress and involuntarily reached out to take her hand. "He didn't mention you at all apart from when he was punishing me for choosing a Sassenach." Using his thumb, he tried to sooth her obviously shattered nerves. "Please tell me."
This was her 'now or never' moment; her chance to finally tell him her news. "When I turned up on your dad's doorstep I was over six months pregnant. I wanted to tell you that you were going to be a dad."
"But we didn't do anything!" he protested in shock. "I was careful!"
"What we did was enough," she stated.
Gulping to calm himself down, he went on to ask the next important question. "The baby, tell me about the baby. What did we have?"
"We had a girl, born prematurely on the 2nd February." She was visibly shaking now, and he grasped her hand more tightly. "Your dad came in soon after and told me she had died." There was a pause as her voice broke on the last word. "I completely lost it then, and ran. I should have asked to see her; just one last time."
"Dad was there," he muttered, more to himself than anything else. "But he never said, even on his death bed. I'm so sorry, Donna; so sorry. I don't know what to say. If I had known…"
"Yes, last year. That's partly why I came down; there was nothing to keep me in Glasgow anymore."
"Not even a wife?" she wondered, as a means of distraction. It made her feel guilty that she was glad his dad had died; the man hadn't offered her much comfort when she had needed it most.
"No wife, no one of any importance at all. There never has been," he informed her with great sincerity, the deeper meaning held within his eyes.
He couldn't put off his craving to make a move then, he had to hold her close and share their grief. Too much had happened that they had been unaware of, thanks to his father; and he wanted to try and make some of that up. "I should have been there for you but I didn't know about the baby. I was a dad; I can't believe I was a dad." With a sniff of his own, he pulled back to softly ask, "What did you name her?"
"I wanted to call her Amelia, but I never got the chance," she sobbed.
"Shh shhh shh," he crooned, gently rocking her. "That doesn't mean we can't call her that between us."
When he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, she begged, "Don't let me go."
"I promise," he vowed. "It took too long to find you."
It was a new beginning for them; but a beginning that would bloom and prosper. Within the year they were married, fulfilling their young love's dream, and a few months later they were the parents they had longed to be.
Standing at the back of the church as their son was christened, the Doctor smiled with hardly suppressed glee. Finally Donna Bain née Noble was getting the happiness she deserved: and he, more than anyone, knew how much she had earned it.