Chapter Text
The Doctor gasps as he awakens, grasping the sheets tightly in his hands and twisting them into tight knots. The smell of burning flesh, echoes of explosions and the feeling of over-whelming guilt consumes him, leaving him breathless, and both hearts pounding. The TARDIS hums around him, engulfing him in a mental hug. His barriers down, The Doctor welcomes the embrace, and lets her comfort him to the best of her abilities. He slowly climbs out of his bed, gripping onto the bedposts as he carefully moves around. The silence scares him, unable to hear anything in the small room of his. Quickly changing into his normal attire, the trench coat offering a small solace of comfort, he heads for the kitchen, finding the door right next to his room. Silently thanking the sentient machine, he walks into the room to find Donna standing in front of the oven, swearing up a storm as smoke piles up from a pan on the stovetop. Immediately taking a tea towel from the rack, The Doctor grabs the now-charred pan and dumps it into the nearby sink, coughing against the black smoke pouring from the ashy remains of whatever Donna was attempting to cook.
Turning to look at the now guilty-looking female, who suddenly sasses him as he washes the pan, straining to prevent the food from burning further. Normally, he would take what Donna says and have a smart-ass comment back, but today he felt horrible. He isn’t in the mood, and as she got personal, he turns around and tells her to shut it. The shocked look on her face crushes him, so he turns and leaves her in the kitchen, running back into his room and slamming the door behind him. The TARDIS groans and shakes a little, yelling at him but he ignores it, instead going straight to his furniture and breaks the oak bookcase, the wood cracking underneath his advanced strength. Once everything, excepting his desk and bed, surrounds the floor around him like felled trees that The Doctor finally looks at his hands, bruised and covered in splinters. A panic attack overtakes him, sending him spiralling even further, consuming him in its rage. Now significantly calmed down, the machine tries to direct her Time Lord to the medbay, but is once again ignored as he grabs tweezers from a medkit in his room and meticulously takes his time removing the tiny pieces of wood stuck underneath his skin. He overlooks the scalpel still left in the kit, trying overcome the temptation of self-destruction and break his stride. He has Donna to protect, he didn’t need to express his true feelings on himself yet again.
Donna stands in the middle of the kitchen, still gaping at her friend as he turns tail and runs. That sort of behaviour just wasn’t The Doctor, and while she might’ve pushed a few buttons, he wouldn’t retaliate in the manner that he had just done. Cleaning up the mess from the attempted breakfast fiasco, she awkwardly touches the TARDIS and asks where the alien boy went off to. A door immediately appears to her left, and Donna thanks her before racing into the new door. The sight of The Doctor surrounded by broken wood and slightly bloodied hands greets Donna, who becomes speechless as she takes in the Time Lord in front of her. It was a room she had never seen before, and judging by the amount of personal items in it she recognised it as The Doctor’s personal room. Picking her way through the ruined pieces, she slides next to the alien as he looks at the photo album in his hands, opened to one section in particular. She gently hugs him and looks over his shoulder as he goes through the book. He stiffens as she wraps her arms around him, but slowly lessens it as he puts his head on her shoulder.
Spread across the pages are thirty-six different faces, some old photos, other newer. She flicks through the pages until she sees the familiar face of herself staring back at her, unknowing that The Doctor had taken the picture. Finding the first picture, she notices that The Doctor looks away as soon as he sees it, and asks him about the photos. It’s obvious to her that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but he settles properly against her and begins to talk, introducing her to Susan first, then the rest of his companions, until he reaches Rose, Jack and Micky, pausing for a moment. Donna doesn’t pressure him, letting him take his time as he talks about his former companions that she had met. Once he finishes, Donna jumps up with his arm in hand, and drags him to the console room, ordering him to get ready to go to Torchwood. Picking up the phone hidden in the gadgets and switches of the board, Donna calls Martha and tells her the day that they would get to Cardiff, disregarding the pouting of the man behind her.
The TARDIS practically squeals as they race through time and space to the Rift, particularly tossing and turning her Doctor as he whinges and complains. The Time Lord thought he was so lonely, when in reality he had so many friends, even if he didn’t believe it. She eventually gets the right day and year, happy as she refuels and kicks the duo out. Donna and The Doctor stand in the middle of the street staring at each other as the TARDIS locks her doors, leaving the two out in the bright sun. Two yells bring their attention away from the misbehaving space and time machine, with the large body of Jack sending The Doctor sprawling onto the ground.
The Doctor instantly tries to push the Captain away before he realises who it is, somewhat relaxing into the tight grip of his old friend. Martha waits her turn, giving Donna a hug before running to her friend, letting him pick her up and twirl around. Together, the four head towards Torchwood headquarters, the Time Lord brightening up as his friends surround him with their care and love.