Chapter Text
“—and alright, Spaceman, just spit it out.”
The Doctor blinked, startled to find himself addressed like the family dog found chewing on a not-toy. “Sorry, what?”
“You’ve not heard a thing I said for the past five minutes.” Donna crossed her arms. “Just been sat there, staring at the oven clock.”
Guiltily, he sat up straight in his chair and quit picking at the tabletop. Stupid, stupid mistake to make with your friend who was already prone to doubting the worth of her own voice. “Donna, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
She scoffed. “Yeah, alright. I’m not mad at you, ya big dunce. Any other time, I can barely get you to quit hanging off my every word.” Her sass was softened by the affectionate knowing in her eyes—that the reason he hung off her every word was because he’d thought for so long that he’d never get another one of them. Besides, she acted the same way with him. “Obviously something’s on your mind, something important. So come on, out with it.”
The Doctor watched his fingers pick again at the scratched-up tabletop. Settling herself in the chair next to him, Donna laid her hands over his, warming and stilling them. He gave her a weak, thankful smile.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” he prefaced.
“But?”
“It’s not that. I don’t want anything to change, I just want…more. But I don’t know if I deserve it.”
“If this is your way of saying you want to start dating,” said Donna, “you should be talking to Rose instead. She knows all about those apps and things—bet she could even set you up a profile.”
The Doctor laughed. No he did not want to date, thank you very much. But he could already picture Rose’s eyes lighting up with fun as she helped her uncle navigate the terrifying world of online dating. Maybe he would sign up just for that.
“Tempting as that sounds,” he said teasingly, before growing more serious, “it isn’t new people that I want to meet. It’s old ones. Old friends, I mean. Being here, now, and with this face… It’s like I can feel them all out there, existing right next door, and I just want to march on over and—”
He sighed. Donna squeezed his hands, and he shifted his palms until he was holding her hands as much as she was holding his. “But I can’t,” he continued. “They’ve moved on. I can’t just barge in now to disrupt their lives—and for what? So a new old face can tie up old loose ends?” He shook his head. “Having you back is already more than I deserve. I can’t ask the universe for more.”
“So don’t ask the universe. Ask them.”
His chin snapped up. Donna’s gaze was kind, but firm as steel. Ask them? Could he really…
“It’s not always about what you deserve. And to hell with what the universe wants,” she said. “It’s their choice, Doctor. You have to let them make it.”
For days he’d been torturing himself with questions of fair and not fair, deserved and undeserved. Always about him. Delusions of grandeur indeed. When in the end, it was simple. So simple. It only took one amazing woman to see through his bullshit and point out the obvious.
The Doctor beamed. “Oh, Donna Noble,” he exclaimed, “you are…” With a loud mwah, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. She swatted him away in jest, grinning. “Wonderful. Brilliant!”
He made it halfway out the door before screeching to a halt and turning around. He’d left his coat hanging on the back of the chair, and he needed to grab—
Already two steps ahead, Donna’s hand pulled out of his coat pocket, and she tossed his mobile at him without warning. He almost fumbled the catch, hearts thumping. No wonder she kept destroying computers when she treated tech with such flippancy.
“Off you pop, then!” she commanded lovingly.
The Doctor grinned. That was his best friend alright.