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Chapter Text

Dray knew the sun wasn't going to rise today. It hadn't yesterday, or the day before. Darkness surrounded them, brought a chill that had no reason to fade now.

He shivered, pulling the blanket higher around his shoulders. Essy and Evan, the twins —his brother and sister- still slept. They were too young to really understand. He wasn't so lucky.

Two years ago, his parents had died. There was a plague, claiming them and so many others, before it retreated as if it had never been. He had been fifteen. No one tried to come for the kids, none of the neighbors had suggested he might be too young to handle two, two year olds.

He had never dreamed of leaving.

But he had dreamed of a miracle. He had wanted his parents back to the point his soul ached, till he was exhausted from the lack of sleep, searching his father's books. A spell, or something, had to exist in a library so large. He had heard of magic, believed in its power — at least if it would bring them back he would- but there was nothing.

They were only books, letters arranged into words, over and over. They lost their meaning, the longer he searched, until he decided they had none to begin with.

It made talking seem like more of a betrayal, and it had been what had made him think he could no longer believe in a miracle.

Yet, here he was- waiting for something to make the sun rise. Waiting for something to step out and make him believe that surviving wasn't just an accident. He wanted it to be a second chance, but maybe they didn't exist. Maybe the planet would wither, they would fade. They would become echoes, lost in the universe, as their parents had been.

Essy begin to cry- she had been having nightmares since the darkness came- and he quickly rose. The door was close, the handle cold, and he turned it. Dray looked back out into the inky air, and shook his head. No miracle was coming for them. Somehow, they were forgotten.

As he closed the door, he pulled his shoulders up straight. He was the only one they had now, and he was going to hold onto them, until his arms were nothing more than dust.

DW

The Doctor was sleeping, a book on his chest, his breathing slow and even. Donna let out a low chuckle, shaking her head when she had stumbled upon him when she went to retrieve a book. He made lots of claims about not needing much sleep- and it wasn't as if she didn't believe him- but she knew that he needed these naps to keep him functioning.

He hadn't told her so much, like why he avoided his room, his bed, like he did. But she could guess, could imagine why such a long life, could be nearly torn to shreds by the universe he seemed to crash into.

She covered him slowly with a blanket, fighting back the urge to brush his hair from his face. She stared down at him, lines eased, the haunted look ceasing for the moment.

And she wondered.

As she always did when she found herself at the sleeping Time Lord's side, if there were lucky people. If there were people who had never really hurt, and their worst days would always be better than the Doctor's best.

She wondered if they were the sort of people who could walk past injustice without it burning into the pit of their stomach, because they had never been in the impact zone.

She wondered, even though it was always followed sharply by guilt, if they were better people.

But she always pushed the thought away. Because if they were so lucky, then they couldn't compare. The Doctor picked up the universes messes, even when he found himself in them by mistake. And yes, sometimes he scared her to no end, and sometimes she knew he needed someone to be the voice of reason…but he still heard it when it was called. Usually.

He had been broken, and shattered. He had no family, but his friends, and no home but the ones he found that accepted him. He was the man who could be found somewhere between ice and an inferno when the mention of his home world was said aloud.

She didn't think he was a bad man, just a man. Someone trying to rebuild a world from only ashes and she didn't think anyone could say he wasn't doing a decent job.

Donna shook her head, and headed off to grab her book. She slid it off the shelf quietly, and glanced at the Doctor one more time. He was still sleeping soundly, and she would wait until he woke. She wouldn't ask about the dreams, unless he brought it up. But she would be ready to listen, or run. Whichever he needed most.

DW

He wasn't asleep as she pulled the blanket over him, but he pretended to be. She would linger by his side, if he was careful, a human sort of warmth washing over him in the air. She would stand there, and he would wonder what she was thinking, because he always did.

He just never asked.

He had been dreaming, of something far away. Of a place he couldn't return to, but it hadn't ached so much as it had in the past. Now he was back. He could hear the humming the TARDIS provided, and he could hear Donna shift beside him.

He was thankful she was here. That he didn't wake alone. He didn't mean this room; he meant this TARDIS, his world. So often, between companions, the silence screamed until his head ached.

He would find himself talking to an empty console room, as he had just before he found Donna again, and remember that he was nothing without friends. He was just a sad old man, who had lived much too long, and who had nothing to show for it in the end.

Maybe he still was, when Donna was around. Or maybe he was better. He didn't think he would ever be an accurate judge of the man he was, only the one that he wanted to be in the end. And he could tell, knew for a fact, that she brought him closer to that then he had been in a very long time.

Much too long, in fact.

So he would pretend to sleep, as she moved away. At once, the air seemed to cool, as if saddened because she wasn't in it. And he began to count. He counted down the seconds, until she slipped from the room. She would leave him to the sleep she thought he was in, and he would lay here until enough time had passed.

It was just another game really, he was good at those.

It had kept him alive all this time, and at least somewhat sane.

He let out a low one, whispering inside his own mind as if afraid she would catch onto the rules. But he was thrown, from the couch, and his arm took most of the force of the fall. The book was wedge underneath him, pushing against his ribs in a way that made it uncomfortable to breath.

When the TARDIS settled, and he was able to push himself up he let out a wince. He pulled his arm up, looking it over quickly before deciding that it wasn't broken. Donna was on the floor, climbing to her feet, and he rushed over to her side.

Her face was pale, more than normal, but she didn't seem to be in any pain.

"Are you okay?" he asked, running his eyes over her in a quick check.

"I'm fine," she said, smoothing out her clothes. She ran her eyes over him, and he tried not to draw attention to the wrist that was swelling beneath its sleeve.

"What the hell was that?" she finally asked.

"We've moved," he said. "More than that, I don't know. But I know how to find out. Come on."

He ran from the room, resisting the urge to take her hand. His wrist would heal, but right now, he didn't want to let onto the injury. Not when they had work to do.

The Doctor ran down the hall, into the console room, and looked over his readings. He wrinkled up his brow, unsure of why they were all so unsteady and tapped at them.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Numbers are erratic," he said. "Like we're jumping back and forth between two locations."

She looked around the room.

"Seems steady now," she said, softly.

He nodded, and tapped at the gages again, before turning on the screen to see the outside. It was pitch black. Dark but unmoving. There was a spot of light, seeming to come from a single house in the distance. He watched as the gages claimed they were moving, but the speck of light stayed in place.

"That settles it then?" she asked. "We can't really be moving."

He nodded, but didn't answer, focusing on the light.

"Why'd we land here at night?" Donna asked. "I don't see anything going on out there."

He glanced at her, and then flipped off the screen; turning away from the dials that he was afraid weren't malfunctioning at all.

"I don't think it's night, Donna," he said softly. "And maybe you better stay here."

Chapter Text

Donna had argued, of course. There was no way that silly Martian –she knew that he wasn't from Mars by now, she really did, she just wasn't about to change- was going out there without her. The way she saw it, if he wanted to leave her behind, there must be great danger. And if there was great danger, the last thing he needed, was to be alone.

They worked better as a unit. A younger Donna, might have tried to turn it into something it wasn't. She might have sought out more than friendship, even when he had lain on his cards on the table from the beginning.

Now, she was satisfied to call him friend. She often wasn't sure if what she felt was even beyond that, because she had never had a friend like the Doctor. Never had she been so willing to follow someone into danger, as she had when she had found herself back into his life.

"Grab a coat," he finally said, the evidence of the effort it took to agree with her, clear on his face. His eyes were wrinkled up tight, and his lips had gone to a thin line.

He was tired of arguing. She wanted to feel guilty, she really did. Because she knew he worried about losing her, because he had lost others. She had found rooms, she'd never mention, and halls she didn't dare stumble upon again.

He was trying to save her, and maybe a bit of himself in the process. Still, what she really felt, was relief. Because she'd go down, if that's what it took, but there was no life, going on, knowing she had left him all alone, on a dark world that seemed to draw the fear up out of him slowly.

She pulled a coat on, zipping it up and moving towards him. He didn't glance back at her, and she tried to pretend the snub –the lack of offered hand- didn't bother her a little. But she kept strong, stepping out behind him.

The air was colder than she was expecting, even with the warning to grab a coat. The lack of sun had done more than create darkness, and she rubbed her hands together behind the Doctor's back. She looked around. As he closed the TARDIS door, her eyes tried to adjust to the lack of the light that it had offered.

They were in a field. The grass crunched beneath her feet. The Doctor squatted down, near enough to her thigh that she could have touched his head if she dared to. She knew that her breath should be visible, but her eyes strained to make out anything but the light in the distance. It was the same as they had seen on the monitor, but somehow out here, it seemed even farther away.

She couldn't see anything farther. Not a star in the sky, despite the darkness, nothing. The Doctor stood again, reaching out. He took her hand gently, his hands feeling warmer than normal. She opened her palm, as he dropped dry blades of grass into it.

Closing her hand, she crumbled them easily, dropping the dust to the ground.

"This isn't just darkness," he said, and she could hear the rustle of fabric. She imagined him wiping his hand on his jacket, and wondered when she started knowing him so well, she didn't need her eyes to see him. "It seems like a drought. We need to talk to the locals."

"What about the moving thing," Donna asked, wiping her hand free of the clinging pieces.

"Not sure," he said, and she felt him take her hand.

He was still upset with her, she was certain, but he was taking her along. They were heading for the house, with more questions than answers, before them still.

DW

The air was cool against his cheeks, not quite smelling like something dead, but it was getting there. The whole planet was going to fade without light...of course that wasn't exactly true. He let out a small sigh, glancing at Donna. He could make her out, her hood up to keep out the chill, her eyes straight ahead. Her hand was warmer than his, though it was cooling rapidly.

He squeezed it a bit tighter, causing her to glance at him, before returning her attention to the next step before her.

He should have left her behind, fairly certain that the only thing they were going to find at the end of this trip was heartbreak. But she was strong willed, and around her he seemed to bend. But he knew that was much better than shattering, and her hand in his always did manage to chase his demons away...at least while the moment lasted.

"It's so quiet, " she said, as they made the slow progress to the house they were trying to reach.

Her voice seemed to echo in the silence, and he nodded, before he remembered that she wouldn't be able to see the action.

"It is," he agreed, trying to push them faster, nervousness settling around his stomach, making an all too familiar ache begin.

"But I mean..." she started, and he heard her draw in a slow breath. He wanted to stop. To acknowledge her fears, but he didn't. He wouldn't let her drown, because he was certain he would be all too willing to die trying to save her. "I mean, really quiet. Not an animal, or anything? Shouldn't there be something? Is everything dead? Doctor...tell me that's not why you wanted to leave me behind! This isn't like land of the zombies or something. I don't think your screwdri-

"Donna!" he said, quickly cutting her off. "You watch too many movies."

He increased his pace once more, and she huffed, moving to keep up.

"That isn't a denial."

He let out a breath, trying to control his urge to snap. It wasn't her fault she didn't understand. It wasn't as if he had shared everything with her. It wasn't as if he could.

He paused, letting her catch her breath, while he watched her.

"I'm not expecting, zombies, Donna," the Doctor said. "I don't think everything is dead. I do think this situation...will become quite difficult, but until I have all the details, there is no point in us driving ourselves mad with all the possibilities. Okay?"

He knew that he was speaking to himself too in that moment, as his mind tried to reach out for every glimpse of trouble he had heard of or found himself mixed up in. He really was getting too old, it would take too long to remember everything that had happened lifetimes ago. He suddenly felt weary, and he was thankful when she nodded.

"Okay," she agreed, after a moment.

He gave her hand a grateful squeeze, when she didn't argue and turned to start walking again. They were making good progress, silently, while he tried to figure out what else could possibly being going on.

"Doctor!" Donna said, giving his hand an urgent squeeze.

He jerked his head towards her, so lost in his thoughts he couldn't place the reason for her concern for a moment that seemed to stretch out before them.

"The light is out," she said, pointing.

He turned, and pulled her to a sudden stop.

"Damn," he muttered, digging in his pocket for his sonic.

Chapter Text

Time wasn't on their side. The Doctor knew that, and because of that he didn't pull the sonic out of his pocket. He dropped it back in, with a small sigh. He ran his fingers over the torch, wishing he could light their way, but left that as well.

They were bacteria in the system, the TARDIS was beacon enough, which is why they had left it behind when they set out. He hoped it would be passed over, decided not to be a threat, but he couldn't be sure.

They were going to be found out though, and when the light blinked back on...when the world was brought back to life, he hurried forward once more. He had to figure out more, had to be certain of what he thought he knew. What he had seen once before.

Donna's hand was tucked into his again. Small and warm, and it felt like the only thing keeping him going, keeping him focused. He wished he had the words to tell her.

"Doctor," she whispered, trying to slow him down. "What's going on? Are we moving...like the TARDIS said?"

"Not exactly," he said, shaking his head. He glanced at her. He could see the worry etched by her eyes, the tight line of her lips. It broke him, but there was a bigger picture still. "No...not really."

He wanted to break down and explain, he really did. Because she deserved that much, but it wasn't going to ease her fears. And it wasn't going to give her the strength to keep going. No, this was better.

They stepped onto a dusty path, he could make out the particles they kicked up in the only light within his eye range. The porch light. The house was small, and he thought it was the sort of small that might be cozy in the right circumstances. Perhaps if the world wasn't ending around you.

There was a single window, letting out dim light from the inside. Next to the window was a worn door, separating them from the point where he couldn't walk away anymore.

The place didn't smell dead, but it was dying. If you could call it that. Fading, was a more honest expression. Yet the chill in the air felt sharp, and his hearts were beating quickly inside his chest. He was real. Donna was real. That's what mattered, in the end.

He didn't need to hold her hand quite so tightly, but he couldn't seem to make himself let go of her. Not like this, not when she could slip away from too easily.

He took in a deep breath, stepping over by the door. Once he knocked, once they stepped into that house, that were going to be a part of these events, and the only thing he could hope for, was that the tears would be few when it all came down around them.

DW

Dray would normally be in the fields by now, planting this late in the season was dangerous enough, but now...it didn't look like there was going to be any planting at all. Which led to a lack of food he didn't know how to combat.

The twins would eat before him, until things settled- if they did. It left his stomach a little less full, but eased the guilt of being impotent.

Essy climbed up into his lap, her dark curls messy around her pale face. She looked tired, but he knew that they all were. No amount of sleep could erase the sort of tired that had settled over his world.

He forced a smile, brushing her hair back from her cheeks. If she would speak to him, maybe he could find the words. Any words. He looked to Evan, playing with his little wooden tractor, everything silent but the fire. He didn't know how to come up with the strength to explain this. Or why he had to. It wasn't fair to have to make them see why their parents would never wake up, and it wasn't fair to have to tell them the world was ending, while they looked on helplessly.

He'd give anything to not have to.

"Someone is outside," Essy whispered, just as he heard a knock on the door.

He shifted his little sister off his lap, motioning for her to join Evan. He wiped his palms against his faded shirt, heading away from small table, to the door.

Dray couldn't imagine who it could be. He had seen nothing of his neighbors in the last couple weeks, even before the darkness had come. But perhaps it was the eldest Stone, coming to explain this in a way that could finally calm his fear. Maybe someone to give him hope, because he sure couldn't find it all alone, in the dark.

He opened it, to a man and a woman. The man was tall, with dark hair sticking up somewhat wildly. The woman shorter, pretty, with her hair a shade of red he hadn't seen in anyone but Evan.

The man was holding her hand tightly, protectively, and Dray wondered if it was him and his little family that caused this fear.

Evan was quick to the door, looking up at them, with Essy just behind.

"I'm the Doctor," the man said, flashing a smile down at Dray's siblings. The woman smiled as well, more gentle, less forced. "This is Donna...we were wondering if we could have a little chat."

Some part of Dray was terrified, and the other was relieved. And if the end of the world was really coming, at least now he didn't have to feel like he was standing still and waiting.

DW

Donna followed the Doctor into the house, looking around slowly. There was a fire going in the small fireplace, and a single lamp on a counter in the kitchen. There were two chairs at the table, though she could see marks where others had once been dragged across the floor.

A loss, perhaps. A memory they were trying to forget.

There were blankets, thick but worn, laid out near the fire place- an effort to fight off the chill she would guess.

And the inhabitants...the boy looked to be a teenager-though with traveling she knew that things, including age, weren't always what they seemed. He was being tailed by two smaller children. A little boy, with bright blue eyes -to the point they almost seemed to glow- and hair that matched hers in shade.

And a little girl, with dark little curls, held tightly to her head. She had dark brown eyes, and she seemed to watch the entire room at once, seeing more than Donna imagined was obvious to them.

She saw no parents, no sign of parents, and she knew better than to ask. Their faces, the marks without chairs, said it all.

"When did the darkness start?" the Doctor said, jumping right into the conversation.

"I'm Dray," the boy said, standing up straighter. "This is Essy, and Evan."

The Doctor glanced at Donna, who nodded at him, before he smiled at the three of them again.

"Right, sorry," he said, nodding. "Very nice to meet you..."

She could tell he was itching to jump into the details. And she knew that it wasn't because he didn't care about these kids or their names or stories, but because he did care all too much.

She had a lingering feeing, that time wasn't their friend right now- if it ever was- and that seconds were costly.

The boy nodded, and walked over to the only chair by the fire place. He sat down slowly, looking exhausted. The boy and girl were up in his lap at once, and he didn't look annoyed at all. He simply held them, and sighed.

"The darkness started days ago," he said. "But things haven't been normal for much longer than that."

The Doctor leaned against the wall, glancing at her, and then back at them.

"Go on," he encouraged, gently. "Tell me all about it."

Chapter Text

Dray knew desperation. It had filled so many of his days, and he could feel it even now. He could also see it in the Doctor's face. He was trying for calm, Dray was certain.

He wanted to look as though he had the situation- whatever that was- under control.

Dray didn't think there was an under control. He looked down at Essy, her eyes looking right back up at him, studying him.

He would move the universe to promise her that they were going to fix everything, to vow that nothing was going to stop the light from ever coming again, but he didn't think that was what was in their future.

Sometimes people lost, he realized. Sometimes they could only lose. He wanted to tell the Doctor he forgave him, but that would be admitting defeat. He couldn't do that yet. Even if his stomach sank with the knowledge that it was coming.

"Doctor?" Donna asked, him, looking at Dray and the kids, before back at the Doctor. "What do you think?"

She didn't hide her words, like most adults would. She kept Dray,right there in the conversation, and it brought up conflicted emotions in him.

A few years ago, it would have made him angry, being left out...protected, but now he thought it would be nice. If he could just step back out for a little bit, and let someone else carry the burden, because he wasn't so sure that he wasn't letting it slip through his fingers.

The Doctor glanced at her, so much tenderness in his gaze, that Dray almost looked away. He wasn't sure what their relationship was, but he was sure that there was something so real there, that he was scared he was invading.

But he didn't look away. He simply shifted, holding the twins tighter to him. Protecting them the only way he knew how.

He was worried. He was scared, and so was the Doctor.

So much for hope...

DW

The Doctor longed to reassure them. He wanted to have answers they would want to hear, but he knew that this wasn't the time for lies. It wasn't the time for truth either. He'd deal with that, when he had not other choice.

For now, he nodded at them.

"Well," he said. "I think Donna and I should go investigate. You guys should wait here. Right here. Don't go anywhere at all."

He didn't explain the danger. He didn't tell them how the house some how was one of the few things holding on, through design or luck, this little family was withstanding the impossible. The end of their universe.

He couldn't tell them, because he had work to do, but he hoped that they would understand that. He hoped that they could see how important it was to listen to him. For once, he hoped someone heard all the words he couldn't say.

Dray stood up, sliding the twins to the floor. He pulled himself up straighter, glancing around the dim room. There was nothing keeping him here the Doctor knew. This was a place that had once been full of life, now it was just a hollow building, that held three scared people who didn't stand a chance.

He wanted to come. He wanted to make a difference.

"Let us come," he said. "We could be of some use. And it's better than just sitting here. "

The Doctor gave Donna a desperate look, unsure of how to tell them to stay any clearer.

"Think of the kids," she said, nodding to Evan and Essy. "It's freezing out there, and dark. It could be dangerous. Here is safe."

Dray looked down at his charges, and several emotions flickered across his face, before he gave a resigned nod. He was doing what was best for them all, and the Doctor told him so, before taking Donna's hand. He thanked them, and slipped outside, back into the cold.

Donna stomped her feet, while he stood still.

He thought of so many times spent in the dark. He thought of the choices he'd make, that he would have made, had there been any real choice. He blocked out screams, and desperation, as it threatened to overwhelm him and focused on the sound of Donna breathing. He was strong enough to do this, strong enough to end it before there was nothing but a slow fade to forgotten.

"Doctor?" Donna asked, when several moments had gone by and he still hadn't moved or spoken. "What are we doing? What's really going on?"

The Doctor glanced at the house, and then dug into his pocket, pulling out the sonic. He had wanted to avoid this, but if he gave away their presence now, maybe there was still a sliver of hope.

Maybe he wouldn't have to just watch the destruction of a world and lives, maybe he could offer some help.

Maybe he wouldn't be saying goodbye to those he had only just met.

"Donna," he said, as gently as he could manage. His mouth was dry, and his stomach felt achy and worn. His soul felt heavy. "Close your eyes. I'll explain when you open them."

She opened her mouth, and he was too weary to argue. He wanted beaches and smiles. He wanted hope, and happy endings. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to do this, and he couldn't find any words to argue with her now.

But she closed it again, and then her eyes closed. He flicked on the sonic, and blinked as the room was flooded with light. The house was gone. The grass was gone, though the smell of dying still lingered in the recycled air.

"You can open your eyes," the Doctor said, tucking the sonic away.

She opened them slowly, blinking in the light. The air was warmer, though not much. That world falling apart, was a byproduct of this world falling apart. A world inside of a world.

"We weren't moving," he said, simply, sadly. "We were just flashing in out of a different reality."

She looked at him, confusion filling her face. She wandered over to the door, tapping at a small screen until it flashed green and the door opened.

"Careful," he said, unable to move his feet.

She peeked out, and then came back in slowly, the door sliding shut with a small click.

The air felt still. Unreal.

He needed her hand desperate, to remind himself that he was real. That he was right here, right now. He wasn't lying alone, dying far away from any other person. And that he was really holding on somehow.

But she was across the room. Her bright eyes were on him, and he knew he had to explain. He just didn't know how yet.

She walked slowly towards him.

"Doctor?" she asked, hesitantly. "We're on a space ship?"

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding. "We sure are."

"And where was the planet?" she asked, though he thought she was starting to realize just where it had been."Is this real?"

"This," he said, reaching out and rapping his knuckles on the metal of the wall. "This is real. We are real."

He reached out, taking her hand, pulling her closer. Her warmth next to him, slowed his hearts, fought back his anguish.

He wondered if he was more broken, because he was so tired of being on the losing end, or because he was going to have to watch Donna realize everything he knew, and that was breaking him and his hearts.

Chapter Text

Donna kept her eye on the Doctor, his face drawn up, wrinkles around his eyes- that she found he had when he was concentrating. She could see a desperation in them, for her to understand what she hadn't been able to fully grasp yet, but she knew that in time she would.

Whatever they were facing, whatever he needed her to understand, she would find a way to stand by his side through it. She wasn't going to leave him to do this alone.

And if that meant accepting that somehow this ship, was also a planet, and that the ones she had met, might not be real...then she would do her very best.

After a moment, he reached out once more, tucking her hand into his. Someones palm was sweating, and she wasn't sure where the blame lay, but knew it was most likely her.

Donna's heart was racing, and her mouth was dry to make up for the moisture of her hand. She wasn't scared, exactly, but her mind knew that they had every reason to be on edge.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic, and flipped it on, the bleeping seeming to mean something to him. He jerked his head up, and headed for the door she had just been looking beyond.

The hallway was still empty, the air cool but still seemed to be heavy against her brow. He turned right, following something she couldn't hear in echoing back to his device, or perhaps she just didn't know how to listen for it.

"This way," he muttered.

He was so focused on whatever it was that they were seeking she didn't dare to speak yet. She paused only when she heard giggling, saw a flash of blonde hair, and the face of a small boy. He smiled up at her, and she felt panic flood her system.

"Doctor!" she said, quickly.

He glanced at her, and then at the boy, who was slowly fading in front of their eyes.

"I wouldn't trust what you see and hear here, Donna, " he said, his voice tight. "Just focus on you and me. We're what you can trust."

She forced herself to nod, and fought back the way her stomach had decided it was time to tumble over itself. She wasn't prone to panic, not really. She had never thought of herself as steady, but some part of her knew that she had a way of adapting that made this life she had committed to less of a ride- but she felt as though they had stumbled into a horror movie instead of a space ship.

He turned once more, tightening his grip.

"What are we looking for?" she finally asked, trying to keep her mind focused- only somewhat successfully.

He tried to keep moving forward, trying to protect her, or himself, she wasn't sure. She grabbed his hand tighter, and tugged him to a stop.

He avoided eye contact for a long moment, and then he ran his free hand over his head- though with his tight grip on the sonic only a few fingers connected with the hair.

"I don't know," he said, sighing. "The last time I saw something with this sort of power it was this sort of gaseous race, but this time, it's hard to say. What I do know is that it's sick or dying or maybe it's just stopped caring about the world it was controlling."

"I...tell me how to help," she said, instead of admitting she didn't really understand.

This was bigger than she had come into contact with, but she stood her ground.

"I don't know," he said. "Just stay here, stay sharp."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and started off again. Every turn seemed unfruitful, and there were several giggles, and even a couple screams that she had to pretend she hadn't heard.

He kept focused, until at last he stopped. She looked at the sonic, as if she would suddenly understand what it claimed laid beyond the door. It was still a mystery to her, but he dropped her hand and set to work trying to get it open.

She shifted her weight, keeping her eyes only on him. If she didn't look around, whatever wasn't really there, couldn't make an appearance.

Something icy found her arm though. The grip of it tight, though the length of the grasp wasn't large.

The intense cold seemed to crawl up her arm, and she felt as though if she looked down, she'd see icicles clinging to her skin.

"Doctor!" she said, urgently. "I think something is beside me."

She looked down, as the sonic paused. She could make out his back going rigid, as he spun around.

She could make out Evan, even as her eyes blurred.

The Doctor reached out, his hands seeming to scald even through her shirt. He held her up, as she felt ice course through her veins.

DW

He held her to him, looking down at her. Her fingers were turning purple, her arm freezing as he brushed his fingers over it.

He shifted her, laying her carefully against the floor and spinning back to the door. He hadn't seen anything beside her, but something had clearly affected her, and now he wasn't only concerned, he was angry.

He ran the sonic over the door, until at last he finally heard the lock give. It slid open, hot air rushing over him- and for the first time he realized how cold he had been feeling.

He stepped in, carefully glancing back at Donna, and looking around the room. He saw no mist, nothing that indicated anything sentient at all.

The heat surrounded him, and he felt like something was pressing against his body, pushing him to collapse against the floor.

His eyelids felt heavy, and he had to fight back the urge to sleep.

"Whatever you've done to her!" he screamed out. "I want you to undo. Right now! I came here to help! Stop this, and I can help you."

His threats- promises- pleas, went unattended. He scanned quickly, the signal coming back empty. Whatever was here, was gone, or hand moved. Either way, he had a injured Donna on his hands, and something was dragging him down.

The Doctor hurried out, scooping up Donna and looking both ways. He didn't know where the TARDIS. He didn't know what he was looking, or what had happened to Donna. He did know that he was scared, and the cold air around him seemed thick and he was struggling to keep his feet moving.

He heard laughter, voices, but the only thought on his mind was how to save Donna.