We traveled first class from London to Paris. That means I had a table to work with. That meant I could type! Ergo - you guys get an update from Paris, and my favorite Doctor Who character returns! We all win - huzzah! :)
Donna's got something on her back, and she gets a little visit from another universe.
Enjoy "Turn Left" - though it's not much of an episode to enjoy, given how dreary it was originally!
***
The Alchemist looked absolutely miserable, curled in on herself, looking sicker than a wet dog, and the Doctor's tan overcoat looked huge on her. Of course, Donna supposed that had to do with the fact that she had less than a single week to live. That was also why the Doctor was probably choosing the easiest of places to visit. No rough times saving the universe, just what the Alche-mist needed in the last days of her life.
The last days of her life. Donna still couldn't believe that applied to the strongest woman she had ever known.
"Oh ho ho!" the Doctor grinned as he bounded up to the girls, somehow managing to carry three huge mugs, a foamy drink in them.
"I'd rather have a water," Donna eyed the mugs.
"You are going to love it," the Doctor promised, passing the mugs about. "One, two, three!"
The three of them drank at the same time. While the Alchemist quickly put hers down, coughing violently into her sleeve, the Doctor immediately going to her side, Donna beamed. "Lovely!"
"Yeah, it is," the Alchemist grimaced when she saw the blood she had coughed up, the Doctor lowering her into a seat. "Strong, but lovely."
"It's not that strong," Donna frowned, looking at her mug.
"It is to her now," the Doctor said grimly. "I'm sorry, Alice. I should have remembered. Last few days of your life, senses are in massive overdrive."
"It's fine," the Alchemist shook her head. "Let's just keep going."
Donna frowned, and the Doctor sighed, but used to her wanting to keep moving, helped her stand. They moved further through the marketplace, and one woman waved at Donna. "You want to buy shukina?" she asked. "Or peshmoni? Most beautiful peshmoni in all of Shan Shen?"
"Er, no thanks," Donna shook her head, turning to ask the Time Lords a question, but the Doctor and the Alchemist were already at another stall, the Alchemist tucked in close to the Doctor's side. She sighed and walked on, occasionally looking through the stalls.
"Tell your fortune, lady!" a voice called from nearby, and Donna turned to see a woman in black and gold calling to her. "The future predicted. Your life foretold."
"Oh, no thanks," Donna shook her head.
"Don't you want to know if you're going to be happy?"
"I'm happy right now, thanks." Well, she was less happy now that the Alchemist was nearly dead, but still, she was happy.
"You got red hair!" the fortune teller told her. "The reading's free for red hair!"
Donna frowned. The woman had to be extremely desperate to tell her that. Still . . . free fortune telling. "All right, then," she conceded.
***
"Oh, you fascinating," the fortune teller marveled, examining Donna's palms. "No, but you good! I can see a man. The most remarkable man. How did you meet him?"
"You're supposed to tell me," Donna quipped.
"I see the future. Tell me the past. When did your lives cross?"
"It's sort of complicated," Donna sighed. "I ended up in a spaceship on my wedding day. Long story."
"But what led you to that meeting?"
"All sorts of things," Donna shrugged. "But my job, I suppose. It was on Earth, this planet called Earth, miles away. But I had this job as a temp. I was a secretary at a place called HC Clements – " She jerked slightly when HC Clements flashed into her head. "Oh. Sorry."
"It's the incense," the fortune teller shook her head. "Just breathe deep." Donna obeyed, and she kept speaking. "This job of yours, what choices led you there?"
"There was a choice, six months before, because the agency offered me this contract with HC Clements," Donna recalled. "But there was this other job. My mum knew this man . . . "
+++
"Jival, he's called," Sylvia told Donna as they walked out to the car. "Jival Chowdry? He runs that little photocopy business, and he needs a secretary."
"I've got a job," Donna told her.
"As a temp. This is permanent. It's twenty thousand a year, Donna!"
"HC Clements is in the city," Donna scowled. "It's nice, it's posh, so stop it!"
***
"Your life could have gone one way or the other," the fortune teller mused. "What made you decide?"
"I just . . . did," Donna shrugged.
"But when was the moment? When did you choose?"
+++
"It won't take long," Sylvia told Donna as they waited at the junction. "Just turn right. We'll pop in and see Mr. Chowdry, so Suzette can introduce you."
"I'm going left," Donna shook her head. "If you don't like it, get out and walk."
"If you turn right, you'll have a career, not just filling in!"
"You think I'm so useless!"
"Oh, I know why you want a job at HC Clements, lady," Sylvia narrowed her eyes. "Because you think you'll meet a man with lots of money and your whole life will change. Well, let me tell you, sweetheart. City executives don't need temps, except for practice."
"Yeah?" Donna scoffed, flipping the turn signal to go left. "Well, they haven't met me!"
+++
"You turned left," the fortune teller tilted her head. "But what if you turned right? What then?"
Donna frowned, feeling uneasy. "Let go of my hands."
"What if it changes? What if you go right? What if you could still go right?"
"Stop it!" Something heavy landed on Donna's back, and she shrieked, trying to look behind her. "What's that? What's on my back? What is it? What – what's on my back?"
"Make the choice again, Donna Noble, and change your mind," the fortune teller grinned. "Turn right!"
"I'm turning," Donna said faintly.
"Turn right. Turn right. Turn right!"
+++
"Well, let me tell you, sweetheart. City executives don't need temps, except for practice."
Donna considered, then sighed. "Yeah. Suppose you're right."
+++
"Turn right, and never meet that man. Turn right, and change the world!"
+++
With one click, Donna changed the turn signal and veered right.
+++
"Come on, then, get out of the way," Donna made her way through the pub, a tray in her hands. "Get out of the way! Here we are," she grinned when she reached her friends. "Feed at the trough."
"Mooky says let's go to the Boardwalk," Veena told her. "It's two for the price of one."
"Christmas Eve?" Donna scoffed. "It'll be heaving."
"Well, exactly," Mooky grinned. "Get in and grab them."
"Hey, that's the second round of drinks you've bought," Veena frowned. "It's my turn!"
"I can afford it," Donna grinned proudly. "Promotion. You are talking to Jival Chowdry's Per-sonal Assistant, I'll have you know. Capital P, capital A, twenty-three thousand pounds per annum, merci beaucoup."
"Here's to Mr. Chowdry!" Veena grinned, lifting her drink.
"Mr. Chowdry!" they all laughed, drinking.
"She gets all the luck," Mooky laughed.
Donna was about to take another drink when she noticed Alice staring at her, eyes wide. "What's wrong?" she asked with a frown. "What is it?"
"Sorry?" she blinked.
"Did someone spill a drink on me?"
"Why?"
"Why do you keep looking at my shoulder? What's wrong?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, don't tell me you're getting all spooky again!" Donna huffed. "It was bad enough when you saw the ghost of Earl Mountbatten at the boat show. What are you looking at? What is it?"
"It's like . . . " Alice frowned. "It's like there's something I can't see . . . "
"Come on!" a man burst in suddenly. "Shut up, all of you! Come and see! Just look at the sky! It's a star! It's a Christmas star!"
Everyone moved to try and see, and Veena shrugged. "Well, come on, then!"
Donna moved with everyone else, and blinked when she saw what appeared to be a seven-pointed star in the sky. "What the hell is that?" Mooky blinked.
"Ken Livingstone, that's what!" Veena scoffed. "Spending our money on decorations! I mean, how much did that cost?"
"Don't be stupid," Mooky shook her head. "It's flying! It's really flying!"
"That's not a star," Donna squinted, watching where it was flying. "That's a web. It's heading east. Middle of the city . . . "
Energy suddenly shot out of the web, hitting various buildings, and everyone started screaming and running. Donna turned to do the same, only to see Alice staring right at her. "Alice!" Donna snapped. "There's a great big web star thing shooting at people, and you're looking at me?!"
"There is something on your back," Alice whispered before running off.
Donna frowned at the words, then turned back to where the star had gone. She walked towards it, and Veena shouted after her. "Donna? Donna, where are you going? You'll get yourself killed! Donna!"
***
"Fire!"
Donna arrived at a police barricade and watched various tanks fire at the star web, shooting it down. "Everyone, stay back!" the soldier by the barricade called. "The Thames has been closed. Return to your homes. Keep away from the river, and that's an order!"
Donna quietly snuck past the army trucks, then paused when she noted one officer in a red cap listening to a radio. "Trap One to Greyhound Fifteen. What is your report? Over."
"From the evidence, I'd say they managed to stop the creature," the officer answered. "Some sort of red spider. Blew up the base underneath the barrier, flooded the whole thing. Over."
"And where is he now? Over."
"We found a body, sir. Over."
"Is it him? Over."
"I think so. He just didn't make it out in time." Donna watched a body get rolled past, an arm dropping from underneath the blanket, and she tilted her head as a silver device of some sort dropped from the hand. "The Doctor is dead. Must have happened too fast for him to regenerate."
"And his Bonded?"
"The men are still searching. For her, and for their TARDIS. I can't imagine she'll be far since he's dead. Over."
"Keep searching until you find her. Over."
"Yes, sir. Over." He lowered his radio and called, "Stand by for escort!"
Donna slowly backed away, then walked off. As she did, she nearly ran into a blonde woman in a dark blue jacket running towards her. "What happened?" she asked in a panic. "What did they find?" She skidded to a stop, just before she hit Donna. "I'm sorry, did they find someone?"
"I don't know," Donna shook her head. "A bloke called the Doctor, or something."
"Well, where is he?" the blonde asked impatiently.
"They've got him in that ambulance," Donna pointed. "He's dead." The blonde's jaw dropped, and Donna frowned. "I'm sorry, did you know him? I mean, they didn't say his name. Could be any doctor."
"I came so far," she whimpered.
"It . . . it could be anyone," Donna tried to help her.
The blonde suddenly looked at her intensely. "What's your name?"
"Donna," she answered. "And you?"
Before she could respond, there was shouting back by the Thames. "What's that?" the blonde frowned, looking past Donna.
"I don't know," Donna frowned. "It sounded like they were looking for someone else, but I don't know – "
"Greyhound Fifteen to Trap One," the soldier from before spoke into his radio. If possible, he sounded even more devastated than before. And right away, Donna knew what they found wasn't good. "We have the Alchemist. Over."
"And how is she? Over."
"She's dead." The blonde next to Donna made a sound similar to a cat being strangled as another stretcher was rolled past. "She didn't make it very far past the Doctor either. Looks like she didn't want to leave him. Over."
"Bring them both back to headquarters. Over."
"Yes, sir. Over." He put his radio down and called out, "Escort the ambulance back to UNIT base!"
"This is wrong," the blonde woman whimpered, and Donna turned to see her with tears streaming down her face. "It's wrong. This is so wrong." She turned to her sharply. "Sorry, what was it? Donna what?"
Donna was about to answer when she saw the blonde's gaze veer past her shoulder. "Why do you keep looking at my back?" she asked.
"I'm not," she shook her head, even as she kept doing it.
"Yes, you are. You keep looking behind me. You're doing it now. What is it? What's there? Did someone put something on my back?"
Donna turned her head to check herself, and when she looked back, the blonde had vanished.
***
"You can't sack me!" Donna yelled in disbelief. "I'm your personal assistant!"
"You don't have to make a scene," Chowdry shook his head. "Just come downstairs and we can have a little talk – "
"Oh, I'll make a scene, all right, right in front of a tribunal," Donna growled. "And the first thing I'm going to say is wandering hands!"
"Now, come on, Donna," Chowdry sighed. "You know what it's been like for the past few months, ever since that Christmas thing. Half my contracts were on the other side of the river, and the Thames is still closed off. Look, I can't deliver. I'm losing a fortune."
"Well, sack one of this lot!" Donna waved around the office. "Sack Cliff. He just sits there. Don't know what he does all day. Sorry, Cliff. Actually, I'm not sorry. What do you do all day?"
The building suddenly shook, and Chowdry frowned. "What the hell? Like an earthquake!" He stood up to look out the window, frowning at the mass of black clouds gathering. "That's weird. Funny sort of clouds . . . "
"Who typed this?" Donna exploded, looking at the paper in her hand. "I'm your PA! Did you get somebody else to type this? Beatrice?"
Chowdry turned on the television to the news, watching the breaking news report. "It sounds impossible, but the entire hospital has vanished. The Royal Hope no longer exists. It's not been destroyed, there's no wreckage. It's simply gone. Reports from bystanders say that the rain lifted up around the hospital – "
***
"Hole punch," Donna mumbled, collecting stuff from her desk as the rest of the office gathered round the telly. "Having that. Stapler, mine. Toy cactus. You can have that, Beatrice, catch!" She tossed it her way, not bothering to see if she caught it. "Cliff, I'd leave you the mouse mat, but I'm worried you'd cut yourself."
"All right, Donna, have some respect," Chowdry frowned. "There's two thousand people in that hospital, and it's vanished."
"Oh, I'll show you vanishing," Donna snapped, picking up her box. "Thanks for nothing! Oh, and you know when that money went missing from the kitty? Anne-Marie, that's all I'm saying. Anne-Marie!" Donna turned to leave, then the building shook again. "Don't tell me. The hospital's back. Well, isn't that wizard?"
***
"To confirm, the Royal Hope hospital has returned to its original position, but with only one survivor," the news report continued, Donna watching as her mother went through what she brought back. "The only person left alive is medical student Oliver Morgenstern."
"And there were these creatures, like rhinos," Morgenstern was saying. "Talking rhinos, in – in – in black leather."
"Rhinos?" Donna repeated in disbelief.
"Rhinos could be aliens," Wilf suggested.
"Shush."
"There were hundreds of them," Morgenstern continued. "We couldn't breathe. We were running out of air. A colleague of mine gave me the last oxygen tank. Martha, Martha Jones. And she died."
"At least you got a hole punch and a raffle ticket," Sylvia noted.
"Yeah, well, they can keep the raffle," Donna huffed. "I won't take a penny off that man."
"Honestly, you two," Wilf scoffed. "There's aliens on the news. They took that hospital all the way to the moon, and you're banging on about raffle tickets?"
"Don't be daft, Gramps," Donna rolled her eyes. "It wasn't the moon. It couldn't be."
"Yes, well, I am telling you it is getting worse, these past few years," Wilf scowled. "It's like, all of a sudden, they suddenly know all about us, and there's keen eyes up there, and they're watching us, and they're not friendly."
"This stapler says Bea," Sylvia frowned.
"I can't believe how well you're taking it, me getting sacked," Donna frowned. "Thought you'd hit the roof."
"I'm just tired, Donna, what with your father and everything," Sylvia sighed. "To be honest, I've given up on you."
"This further report just in from Oliver Morgenstern."
"There was this woman who took control," Morgenstern said. "Said she knew what to do, said she could stop the MRI or something. Sarah Jane, her name was. Sarah Jane Smith."
"Sarah Jane Smith was a freelance investigative journalist, formerly of Metropolitan Magazine. Her body was recovered from the hospital late this afternoon. Miss Smith had a son called Luke, but early reports that Luke – "
"What's for tea?" Donna asked.
"I've got nothing in," Sylvia shook her head.
"I'll get chips. Last of my wages. Fish and chips, yeah?"
"Also had been inside the Royal Hope, along with his teenage friends Maria Jackson and Clyde Langer. It is feared that they also perished."
***
Donna walked along the street, heading home, when a flash of light came from a nearby alley. "Blimey!" Donna blinked when a blonde woman ran out, looking slightly dazed. "Are you all right? What was that, fireworks or – ?"
"I don't know," she looked behind her. "I was just walking along . . . that's weird."
Donna took a closer look at her, then jumped. "You're the one! Christmas Eve, I met you in town!"
"Donna, isn't it?" the blonde tilted her head.
"What was your name?"
"How're you doing?" she grinned. "You're looking good. How's things? What have you been up to?"
"You're doing it again," Donna scowled.
"What?"
"Looking behind me. People keep on doing that, looking at my back."
"What sort of people?"
"People in the street. Strangers. I just catch them sometimes, staring at me. Like they're looking at something. And then I get home, and I look, and there's nothing there." She took a look over her shoulder, then threw up her hands. "See? Look, now I'm doing it!"
"What are you doing for Christmas?" the blonde asked abruptly.
"What am I what?" Donna did a double take.
"Next Christmas, any plans?"
"I don't know," Donna shrugged. "That's ages away. Nothing much, I suppose. Why?"
"Just . . . I think you should get out, you and your family. Don't stay in London. Just leave the city."
"What for?"
"Nice hotel Christmas break?"
"Can't afford it."
"Well, no. You got that raffle ticket."
Donna narrowed her eyes. "How do you know about that?"
"First prize, luxury weekend break," the blonde revealed. "Use it, Donna Noble."
And Donna had never told her her last name. "Why won't you tell me your name?" she scowled, walking up to the blonde. "I think you should leave me alone."
Donna walked past her, not checking behind her when there was another flash of light.
***
"Cor blimey, that's what I call posh!" Wilf grinned, looking up at the hotel they would be staying at for Christmas. "I said you were lucky, didn't I? I always said, my lucky star."
"Look, for God's sake, don't tell them we won it in a raffle," Sylvia whispered to Donna, who nodded. "Be classy. Dad, take those things off!"
"No, I shan't," Wilf shook his head, making the antlers on top of his head jingle. "It's Christmas! Oi, I'll have that one, thank you," Wilf took one of the suitcases when one of the staff made to take it. "It's got my liniment in it."
"I reckon we deserve this," Donna smiled. "It's been a hell of a year."
"Your dad would have loved this," Sylvia smiled.
"Yeah," Donna nodded. "He would have."
***
"Oi!" Donna called the next morning when there was a knock at the door. "Gramps, get that! That'll be breakfast. We've got croissants!"
"Why can't you get it, Lady Muck?" Wilf grunted.
"It's Christmas Day," Sylvia answered from where she was in bed, eating chocolates. "I never get up before ten. Only madam there was up with the dawn chorus, like when she was six years old."
"I'm not wasting a second in this place," Donna declared. "How was the sofa?"
"Oh, yeah," Wilf grimaced as he sat up. "Oh, not so good, really. Oh, gawd. You know, we could have paid for a second room. Oi, Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," Donna grinned.
"Merry Christmas, Dad," Sylvia grinned.
Knocking came again, and Wilf grunted as he got up. "Yeah, all right. Come on in, my darling," he opened the door to let the maid in. "Grub's up. Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, sir!" the maid smiled.
"We have interrupted your program to bring you breaking news."
Sylvia sat up when the telly switched. "Have you seen this?"
"We will now return to the BBC news studio."
"Because I thought, nice early breakfast, and then we'll go for a walk," Donna said. "People al-ways say that at Christmas. 'Oh, we all went for a walk.' I've always wanted to do that. So, walk first, presents later, yeah?"
"Donna, come and see!" Sylvia shouted.
Donna was about to when the maid gasped and pointed at her. "Tienes algo en tu espalda!"
"Satellite – "
"What?" Donna frowned.
"Donna, look at the telly!" Sylvia insisted.
"Tienes algo en tu espalda!"
"Replica of the RMS Titanic – "
"What does that mean?" Donna frowned at the maid. "I don't know what you're saying."
"Donna, look at the TV!" Sylvia shouted.
"Tienes algo en tu espalda!" the maid pointed at Donna's back.
Donna turned to try and see in the mirror, but saw nothing. "For God's sake, Donna!" Sylvia yelled. "Don't just stand there! Come and look!"
Donna moved into her room to see the television. "Not sure how this is possible, but this footage is live and genuine. The object is falling on Central London. I repeat, this is not a hoax. A replica of the Titanic is falling out of the sky, and it's heading for Buckingham Palace. We're getting this footage from the Guinevere range of satellites."
"Is that a film or something?" Donna frowned.
"The Royal Air Force has declared an emerg – "
Right when the Titanic crashed into Buckingham Palace, the picture went out. The building rattled, and Sylvia swallowed. "It's gone dead," she tried changing channels. "All of them."
"No, but, the Titanic?" Donna frowned uneasily. "Well, don't be daft. Is that, like, a sequel?"
"Oh," Wilf said weakly, looking out the window. "Oh, God rest their souls!" He hurried outside, the others following, to see a mushroom cloud rising from London. "I was supposed to be out there selling papers! I should have been there. We all should. We'd be dead!"
"That's everyone," Sylvia gawked. "Every single person we know. The whole city!"
"Can't be," Donna swallowed.
"But it is. It's gone. London's gone."
"If you hadn't won that raffle . . . " Wilf trailed off.
Donna turned to look back at the staff, only to see the one maid pointing an accusing finger at her.
***
"Leeds?" Donna stared in disbelief. "I'm not moving to Leeds!"
"I'm afraid it's Leeds, or you can wait in the hostel for another three months," the housing officer informed her.
"All I want's a washing machine," Sylvia grumbled.
"What about Glasgow?" Donna asked. "I heard there was jobs going in Glasgow."
"You can't pick and choose," the housing officer shook her head. "We've the whole of Southern England flooded with radiation. Seven million people in need of relocation, and now France has closed its borders. So, it's Leeds or nothing." She stamped their family paper with LEEDS on it. "Next!"
***
"The Daniels family, billeted at number fifteen," one of the soldiers announced, Donna waiting with her family and their luggage. "Mr. and Mrs. Obego, billeted at number thirty-one. Miss Coltrane, you're in number eight. The Noble family, billeted at number twenty-nine."
"That's us," Wilf picked up his telescope. "Come on, off we go. All right?"
"Used to be a nice little family, number twenty-nine," a woman told them snidely. "They missed one mortgage payment, just one. They got booted out, all for you lot."
"Don't get all chippy with me, Vera Duckworth," Donna snapped. "Pop your clogs on and go and feed whippets!"
"Sweetheart, come on," Wilf tugged on her. "You're not going to make the world any better by shouting at it."
"I can try," Donna grumbled as they walked up to the house.
"What happens?" Sylvia looked around. "Do we get keys?"
"I don't know, do I?" Wilf shrugged.
"Who do we ask? The soldiers?"
The door suddenly opened, and they were greeted heartily by a man inside. "Hey, hey! Is a big house! Room for all. Welcome! In you come."
"I thought this was our house," Donna frowned.
"Is many people's house," the man beckoned. "Is wonderful. In, in, in!" Reluctantly, the family of three followed as the man explained. "We've been here for eight weeks already. I had a nice little paper shop in Shepherd's Bush. All gone now. So, upstairs, we have Merchandani family. Seven of them. Good family. Good kids. Except that one, you be careful of him. I's a joking! Where's that smile, eh? Rocco Colasanto," he finally introduced himself. "I'm here with my wife and her sister and her husband and their kids and their daughter's kids. We've got the front room. My mother, she's got the back room. She's old. You forgive, eh? And this . . . this is you. This is your palazzo."
Sylvia blinked when he led them to the kitchen. "What do you mean, this is us?"
"You live here," Rocco said simply.
"We're living in the kitchen?" Donna asked in disbelief.
"You got camp beds," Rocco gestured. "You got the cooker, you keep warm. You got the fridge, you keep cool. Is good, eh?"
"What about the bathroom?" Sylvia asked.
"Nobody lives in the bathroom."
"No, I mean, is there a rota?"
"Is potluck! Is fun. I go wake Mamma. She likes new people. Mamma!" he called, walking off. "Is people! Nice people!"
"Ah, well," Wilf put his stuff down. "We'll settle in, won't we? Make do? Bit of wartime spirit, eh?"
"Yeah, but there isn't a war," Donna sighed. "There's no fight. It's just this."
"Well, America, they'll save us," Wilf tried to smile. "It was on the news. They're going to send Great Britain fifty billion quid in financial aid. God bless America!"
***
"America in crisis, with over sixty million reported dead," the news reported that evening, everyone sitting and eating dinner. "Sixty million people have dissolved into fat. And the fat is walking. People's fat has come to life and is walking through the streets. And there are spaceships. There are reports of spaceships over every major US city. The fat is flying. It's leaving – "
"Aliens," Wilf said simply.
"Yeah," Donna didn't try to argue.
"The fat creatures are being raised into the air . . . "
***
"Mary McGinty," Sylvia said that night as she and Donna laid in bed. "Do you remember her?"
"Who was she?" Donna asked.
"Worked in the newsagent on Sunday. Little woman, black hair."
"Never really spoke to her."
"She'll be dead. Every day I think of someone else, all dead."
"Maybe she went away for Christmas?"
"Maybe."
"I'll go out tomorrow. I'll walk into town. There's got to be work. Everyone needs secretaries. Soon as I'm earning, we'll get a proper place. Just you wait, Mum."
"What if it never gets better?"
"'Course it will."
"Even the bees are disappearing. You don't see bumblebees anymore."
"They'll sort us out. The emergency government, they'll do something."
"What if they don't?"
"Then we'll complain."
"Who's going to listen to us? Refugees. We haven't even got a vote. We're just no one, Donna. We don't exist."
Loud singing came from outside, and Donna growled. "I am going to kill that man!" She rose from bed and stormed out. "Now listen, Mussolini! I am telling you for the last time to button it! If I hear one more sea shanty – " She abruptly broke off, eyes widening.
"I always loved a sing song," Wilf smiled meekly.
***
"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me!" Donna joined in enthusiastically. "He's just a poor boy from a poor family. Spare him his life from this monstrosity. Easy come, easy go, will you let me go? Bismillah! No – "
Gunfire came from outside, and Donna stood to check it out, but Rocco shook his head. "No, you stay here. Everyone, stay!" He went outside, the others following, to see one of the soldiers firing bullet after bullet into his Jeep, which was pumping thick gas out into the air. "Hey! Firing at the car is not so good! You crazy or what?"
"It's this ATMOS thing, it won't stop," the soldier explained. "It's like gas, it's toxic."
"Well, switch it off!" Wilf gestured.
"I have done. It's still going. It's all the cars. Every single ATMOS car, they've gone mad." He froze, then suddenly aimed his gun at Donna. "You, lady, turn round. Turn around now!"
"Are you crazy, boy?" Rocco demanded as Donna froze, eyes wide.
"Put the gun down!" Wilf shouted.
"I said turn round!" the soldier ordered. "Show me your back!"
"Do what he says!" Sylvia told Donna.
"Show me your back!"
"Turn around!"
"Turn around now! Show me your back!" Donna hesitantly raised her arms in the air and turned around, showing the soldier her back. A moment later, she heard him sheepishly say, "Sorry. I thought I saw – "
"Call yourself a soldier?" Wilf shouted as Donna lowered her arms. "Pointing guns at innocent women? You're a disgrace! In my day, we'd have had you court martialed!"
A flash of light appeared at the bottom of the street. Earlier, Donna would have ignored it; now she walked right towards it. "Donna?" Sylvia called. "Where are you going? It's not safe at night. Donna! Donna!"
Donna paused at the end of the street. "Hello."
"Hi," the blonde woman smiled weakly.
***
"It's the ATMOS devices," the blonde explained as they sat on a bench by the park. "We're lucky, it's not so bad here. Britain hasn't got that much petrol. But all over Europe, China, South Africa, they're getting choked by gas."
"Can't anyone stop it?" Donna asked.
"Yeah, they're trying right now, this little band of fighters, onboard the Sontaran ship. Any second now . . . "
The sky blossomed with fire, and Donna gasped, eyes wide. "And that was?"
"That was the Torchwood team," Rose answered sadly. "Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, they gave their lives. And Captain Jack Harkness has been transported to the Sontaran homeworld. There's no one left."
Something about that statement . . . "No one else?" Donna asked, just to make sure. She had no idea where that thought had come from, but –
"There should have been," the blonde revealed. "Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato, they should have been fighting. They should have been alive for this. But while Jack, Gwen, and Ianto were fighting the Sontarans, Owen and Tosh were trying to help the people of Cardiff – Owen tried to stop a nuclear meltdown, Tosh attempting to guide him through it. Tosh was shot, unable to help him; Owen didn't make it out in time."
"Oh, my God," Donna whispered.
"There's no one left," the blonde repeated.
Donna frowned at her. "You're always wearing the same clothes. Why won't you tell me your name?"
"None of this was meant to happen," the blonde sighed. "There was a man, and a woman. These wonderful people, and they stopped it. The Titanic, the Adipose, the ATMOS, they stopped them all from happening."
"That Doctor? And that woman they found, the Alchemist?"
"You knew them," the blonde nodded.
"Did I? When?"
"I think you dream about them sometimes," the blonde tilted her head. "It's a man in a suit. Tall, thin man, great hair . . . some really great hair," she giggled. "But always with eyes for the woman. Blonde, in yellow and white, with the brightest smile that could power the world."
Donna certainly didn't want to admit to a stranger she was right . . . although, many of her dreams included the blonde as pale as her white jacket, and definitely not smiling as much as she thought she should have been. "Who are you?" she asked the blonde.
"I was like you," she answered. "I used to be you. You've traveled with them, Donna. You've traveled with the Doctor and the Alchemist in a different world."
"I never met them, and they're dead," Donna denied.
"They died underneath the Thames on Christmas Eve, but you were meant to be there. He needed someone to stop him when the Alchemist wasn't by his side, and that was you. You made him leave. You saved his life."
+++
"Doctor!" Donna shouted up to the Doctor. "You can stop now!"
The Doctor paused and looked down, watching the Alchemist finally struggle to her feet. "Come on," he called. "Time we got out."
+++
"Stop it!" Donna got to her feet, walking away, shaking. "I don't know what you're talking about! Leave me alone!"
"Something's coming, Donna," the blonde stood as well. "Something worse."
"The whole world is stinking," Donna glared. "How can anything be worse than this?"
"Trust me, we need the Time Lords more than ever," the blonde swallowed. "I've . . . I've been pulled across from a different universe because every single universe is in danger. It's coming, Donna. It's coming from across the stars, and nothing can stop it."
"What is?" Donna frowned.
"The darkness."
"Well, what do you keep telling me for? What am I supposed to do? I'm nothing special. I mean, I'm . . . I'm not. I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing!"
"Donna Noble, you're the most important woman in the whole of creation," the blonde smiled through tears. "You're the Doctor's big sister. You are not nothing."
"Oh, don't," Donna shook her head. She had never even wanted any siblings. To think this mysterious Doctor – and an alien at that – was her brother . . . no. She couldn't do it. "Just don't. I'm tired. I'm so tired."
"I need you to come with me."
"Yeah?" Donna scoffed. "Well, blonde hair might work on the men, but you ain't shifting me, lady."
"That's more like it," the blonde laughed.
"I've got plenty more."
"Then you'll come with me, only when you want to."
"You'll have a long wait, then."
"Not really. Just three weeks." Donna blinked at the specifics, then shook her head, turning to go. "Tell me, does your grandfather still own that telescope?"
Donna froze, looking back. "He never lets go of it."
"Three weeks time," she nodded. "But you've got to be certain. Because when you come with me, Donna . . . sorry. So sorry . . . but everyone thinks you're going to die." Donna blanched, but she shook her head. "But you are the Doctor's sister, and the Alchemist is mine. And though they weren't officially Bonded – married, if you will – we are still family. And I won't let another member of my family die."
Donna stared at her, eyes wide, but before she could say anything else, the blonde literally faded away.
***
"And you!" Rocco grinned, hugging Donna. "I'm going to miss you most of all! All flame-haired and fiery."
"Oh, but why do you have to go?" Donna frowned.
"It's the new law," Rocco answered. "England for the English, et cetera. They can't send us home. The oceans are closed! They build labor camps."
"I know, but labor doing what? There aren't any jobs."
"Sewing, digging. Is good. Now, stop it before I kiss you too much." He kissed both her cheeks, then turned to Wilf. "Wilfred, my capitano!"
Rocco saluted Wilf, who saluted back, and Rocco jogged to join his family in the back of an ar-my truck. "It'll be quiet with him gone," Donna noted. "Still, we'll have more room."
"Labor camps," Wilf muttered. "That's what they called them last time."
"What do you mean?" Donna frowned.
"It's happening again," Wilf shook his head.
"What is?" Donna asked before it sunk in. She blanched and ran to a soldier. "Excuse me, where are you taking them? Where are you going?" When she didn't get an answer, she chased after Rocco's truck. "Rocco, where are you going? Where are you going? Where are you going?"
***
Donna quietly entered the house later that evening. "I asked about jobs with the army," she told Sylvia. "They said I wasn't qualified. You were right. You said I should have worked harder at school. I suppose I've always been a disappointment."
Sylvia didn't even argue. "Yeah."
***
"You know, we'd get a bit of cash if we sold this thing," Wilf remarked as Donna walked out to join him in the garden.
"Don't you dare," Donna shook her head. "I always imagined, your old age, I'd have put a bit of money by. Make you comfy. Never did. I'm just useless." She paused when Wilf didn't say any-thing. "You're supposed to say 'no, you're not.'"
"Ha," Wilf shook his head, moving away from his telescope. "It must be the alignment."
"What's wrong?" Donna frowned.
"Well, I don't know. I mean, it can't be the lens, because I was looking at Orion. The constella-tion of Orion. You take a look and tell me, what can you see?"
"Where?" Donna asked, peering through.
"Well, up there in the sky."
"Well, I can't see anything. It's just black."
"Well, I mean, it's working. The telescope is working."
"Well, maybe it's clouds."
"There's no clouds."
"Well, there must be!" Donna swallowed, then tried to recall when she had last seen the blonde. When had it been?
"There's not! It was there! An entire constellation!" Wilf then froze, then pointed. "Look, look there! They're going out!" Donna blanched, watching the sky as stars blinked, then disappeared. "Oh, my God! Donna, look! The stars are going out!"
Three weeks time. And it had been three weeks.
Donna swallowed. "I'm ready," she said quietly.
She didn't need to look behind her to know the blonde was nodding.
***
"Lodestone testing now at fifteen point four," a tannoy was announcing as a Land Rover deposited the blonde and Donna at a warehouse, various equipment, soldiers, and scientists around the area. "Repeat, fifteen point four."
"Ma'am," a woman saluted the blonde as she approached.
"I've told you, don't salute," the blonde shook her head, walking forward.
"Well, if you're not going to tell us your name," the woman sniffed.
"What, you don't know either?" Donna asked in surprise as the blonde checked a console.
"I've crossed too many different realities," the blonde explained – or tried to, as Donna didn't understand a bloody word. "Trust me, the wrong word in the wrong place can cause an entire casual nexus."
"She talks like that," the woman told Donna. "A lot. And you must be Miss Noble."
"Donna," she nodded.
"Captain Erisa Magambo. Thank you for this."
"I don't even know what I'm doing."
"Is she awake?" Rose asked as Magambo led them one way.
"Seems to be quiet today," Magambo answered. "Ticking over. Like it's waiting."
"She," Rose corrected, then turned to Donna. "Do you want to see her?"
Donna frowned, seeing the blue police box they were approaching. "What's a police box?"
"They salvaged her from underneath the Thames," the blonde informed her. "Just go inside."
"What for?"
"Just go in."
Donna frowned, but did as the blonde bid. Immediately, she froze, seeing something that should not have been possible. "No. Way!" The blonde was grinning when she ran out and circled about before going back inside. How . . . how was the box bigger on the inside?!
"What do you think?" the blonde asked as Donna backed out.
"Can I have a coffee?" Donna asked meekly.
"Way ahead of you, Donna." She spun around to see the blonde grin at a black man that approached, a grin on his face, a tray of three coffees in his hand. "Take whichever one you like."
***
"Time And Relative Dimension In Space," the blonde told Donna. "This room used to shine with light. I think she's dying."
"And even then, she's still trying to help," the black man stroked the rotor in the center, the ma-chine rumbling slightly.
"And . . . and it belonged to the Doctor?" Donna asked.
"And the Alchemist," the man nodded. "They were Time Lords, the last of their kind."
"But if they were so special, what were they doing with me?"
"They thought you were brilliant," the blonde shrugged.
"Don't be stupid."
"I thought that once, too," the black man revealed. "Took the Alchemist to show me I'm not stupid. That I'm brilliant, in my own way. Doesn't matter which one of them shows you that. Any-one they touch, they show they are brilliant, just by being with them."
"And you were her sister?" Donna asked the blonde quietly.
She nodded silently. "Just like you were supposed to be his."
Donna swallowed. Once, she had brushed that off like it was nothing. But now here was another person, telling her this story was real . . . maybe it wasn't a story. And if it wasn't, if this Doctor truly was that close to her . . .
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to see it?" he asked.
"No," Donna began, then sighed. "Go on, then."
***
"We don't know how the TARDIS works, but she allowed us to use the surface technology, enough to show you the creature," the black man explained as the blonde led Donna into a circle of mirrors.
"Captain Magambo would have preferred scraping it off, but we turned her down quite quickly on that," the blonde gave the UNIT woman a glare.
"It's a creature?" Donna asked, startled.
"Just stand here," the blonde adjusted Donna.
"Out of the circle, please," Magambo ordered.
The blonde scowled, then the black man stepped to Donna's side. "I'll stay with her."
"Sir," Magambo narrowed her eyes.
"No," the blonde said simply, taking Donna's hand. "'M not leaving family."
Donna stared at her, and the black man, touched by their kindness. "Very well," Magambo ground out. "Ready . . . and activate!"
The lights turned on, and Donna closed her eyes against the lights. "Open your eyes, Donna," the blonde woman said quietly.
"Is it there?"
"Open your eyes. Look at it."
"I can't!"
"It's part of you, Donna," the black man said gently. "Look."
Donna took a deep breath, then opened her eyes. Immediately, she spun around so she could no longer see the giant stag horn beetle hanging from her shoulders like a rucksack. "It's OK, it's OK, it's OK," the blonde instantly was at her side, rubbing her shoulders as the black man blocked her view of the mirrors. "Calm down, Donna. Donna? Donna! It's OK!"
"What is it?" Donna whimpered.
" . . . we don't know."
"Oh, thanks!"
"It feeds off time by changing time, by making someone's life take a different turn. Like er . . . meetings never made, children never born, a life never loved. But with you, it's – "
"But I never did anything important," Donna frowned.
"Yeah, you did," the black man told her. "One day, that thing made you turn right instead of left."
"When was that?"
"Not surprised you don't remember. I wouldn't. It was the most ordinary day in the world. But by turning right, you never met the Doctor and the Alchemist, and the whole world just changed around you."
"Can you get rid of it?" Donna asked.
"No," the blonde shook her head. "We can't even touch it. It seems to be in a state of flux."
"What does that even mean?"
" . . . I don't know," she admitted. "It's the sort of thing the Doctor would explain."
"And the Alchemist would make it simpler in our terms," the black man added.
"You liar!" Donna spun to glare at the blonde. "You told me I was special! But it's not me – it's this thing!" she jabbed in the direction of the beetle on her back. "I'm just a host!"
"No, there's more than that," the blonde shook her head. "The readings are strange. It's – it's like reality's just bending round you."
"Because of this thing!"
"No, we're getting separate readings from you," the black man told her. "They've always been there, since the day you were born."
"This is not relevant to the mission," Magambo began.
"And we can easily find a way to not give you access to the TARDIS since she prefers us over you, so shut your mouth," the black man snapped; remarkably, she shut up.
"I thought it was just the Time Lords we needed, but it's all of you," the blonde told Donna. "The Doctor, the Alchemist, and Donna Noble, together, to stop the stars from going out."
"Why?" Donna looked around helplessly. "What can I do?" She finally gestured to everything around her. "Turn it off, please."
"Captain?" the blonde turned to her.
"Power down," Magambo ordered.
"It's still there, though," Donna frowned as the device shut down. "What can I do to get rid of it?"
The black man grinned. "How do you feel about traveling in time?"
***
"The TARDIS has tracked down the moment of intervention," the blonde told Donna as the black man helped her into a jacket with loads of wires. "Monday the twenty-fifth, one minute past ten in the morning. Your car was on Little Sutton Street leading to the Ealing Road, but you turned right heading towards Griffin's Parade. You need to turn left. That's the most important thing. You've got to go back, turn left. Have you got that, Donna? One minute past ten, make yourself turn left, heading for the Chiswick Highroad."
"Keep the jacket on at all times," Magambo told Donna as one of the scientists fastened a watch of some sort to her wrist. "It's insulation against temporal feedback. This will correspond to local time wherever you land." She held out a glass of water. "This is to combat dehydration."
Donna smiled weakly as the blonde and the black man led her back into the mirrors. "This is where we leave you," the blonde told her.
"I don't want to see that thing on my back," Donna declared.
"No, the mirrors are just incidental," the black man shook his head. "They bounce chronon energy back into the center, which we control and decide the destination."
"It's a time machine," Donna translated.
A grin split his face. "Yeah, it's a time machine."
"If you could?" Magambo gestured. The two helped Donna in the middle before leaving. "Powering up."
"How do you know it's going to work?" Donna asked.
"Er . . . " The black man and the blonde woman exchanged uneasy looks. "We don't," he confessed. "We're just guessing."
"Oh," Donna said weakly. "Brilliant."
"Just remember, when you get to the junction, change the car's direction by one minute past ten," the blonde told her.
"How do I do that?"
"It's up to you."
"You could run up to yourself and have a good argument," the black man suggested jokingly.
"I'd like to see that!" the blonde laughed.
"Activate lodestone," Magambo ordered.
"Good luck," the blonde smiled.
"I'm ready," Donna nodded.
"One minute past ten," the blonde reminded her.
"Because I understand now," Donna continued. "You said everyone thinks I was going to die, but you think that means this whole world is going to blink out of existence. But that's not dying, because a better world takes its place. The Doctor's world, the Alchemist's world, and I'm still alive. That's right, isn't it? I don't die. If I change things, I don't die. That's . . . that's right, isn't it?"
The black man swallowed. "We honestly don't know."
"But I can't die!" Donna turned to the blonde, eyes wide. "I've got a future, with the Doctor and the Alchemist! You told me!"
"Activate!" Magambo ordered, and Donna dematerialized as sparks flew along the cables running to the TARDIS.
***
Donna landed on hands and knees, then cheered when she realized she had actually time traveled. That was when she realized she wasn't even on the correct street. "But – hold on! But this is – I'm not – this is Sutton Court! I'm half a mile away . . . I'm half a mile away!" she shouted sky-ward, as if everyone else could hear.
She double checked her watch, then gaped when she saw the time – 9:57. "Four minutes?" She looked up, pale. "Oh, my God."
With nothing else to say, she started running . . .
***
"Jival Chowdry?" Sylvia told Donna as they walked to the car. "He runs that little photocopy business, and he needs a secretary."
"I've got a job," Donna scowled as she opened her door. "HC Clements is in the city. It's nice, it's posh, so stop it!"
***
"It won't take long," Sylvia told Donna as they waited at the junction. "Just turn right."
"I'm going left," Donna shook her head. "If you don't like it, get out and walk. You think I'm so useless!"
"Oh, I know why you want a job at HC Clements, lady," Sylvia narrowed her eyes. "Because you think you'll meet a man."
***
Donna bent over double, panting, on the sidewalk of Ealing Road as she double checked the time – 9:59. "I'm not going to get there," she realized in horror.
"Everyone thinks you're going to die."
The blonde's words rang in her head, and Donna's eyes widened as she took a look at the van that had just passed through the junction she knew her past self was waiting at . . .
***
"City executives don't need temps, except for practice," Sylvia told her daughter.
Donna considered, then sighed. "Yeah. Suppose you're right."
***
Donna swallowed. "Please," she whispered, then ran out in front of the van.
***
Sylvia frowned when she heard a woman scream. "Can you hear that?"
Donna looked down the road. "The traffic's stopping."
"Something must have happened."
***
As Donna lay dying, traffic stopping behind her, blocking the junction, she blearily saw the black man skid to a halt, his eyes wide. "Oh, my God," he swallowed.
The blonde just walked forward, tears in her eyes. "Tell them this," she told Donna, kneeling down by her. "Two words."
Donna listened as she whispered, then closed her eyes . . .
***
"Well, that decides it," Donna nodded. "I'm not sitting in a traffic jam. I'm going left."
***
Donna's eyes flew open as she screamed, then she felt something fall off her back. She spun around, then leapt out of her chair. "What the hell is that?!"
"You were so strong," the fortune teller backed away, eyes wide as the beetle spasmed and died. "What are you? What will you be? What will you be?"
Donna was left staring at the beetle, then spun around when the tent flap opened. "Everything all right?" the Doctor asked in concern, peeking in, the Alchemist right by his side.
"Oh, God!" Donna sprang forward to hug them.
The Alchemist nearly collapsed, but giggled slightly and returned the hug. "What was that for?"
Donna shook her head. "I don't know."
***
"I can't remember," Donna shook her head as the Doctor used a stick to examine the beetle, the Alchemist sitting next to him, curled up in his coat. "It's slipping away. You know like when you try and think of a dream and it just sort of goes?"
"Just got lucky, this thing," the Doctor told her. "It's one of the Trickster's Brigade. Changes a life in tiny little ways. Most times, the universe just compensates around it, but with you? Great big parallel world."
"Hold on, you said parallel worlds are sealed off," Donna frowned.
"They are, but you had one created around you," the Alchemist nodded. "Funny thing. That keeps happening to you."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, the Library. Then this."
"Just goes with the job, I suppose," Donna shrugged.
"Sometimes I think there's way too much coincidence around you, Donna," the Doctor told her. "We met you once, then we met your grandfather, then we met you again. In the whole wide universe, we met you for a second time. It's like something's binding us together."
"Don't be so daft," Donna scoffed. "I'm nothing special."
"Yes, you are!" the Alchemist took her hand and squeezed. "You're brilliant!"
"They thought you were brilliant."
Donna blinked. "She said that."
"Who did?" the Doctor looked up.
"That woman," Donna tilted her head. "I can't remember."
"Well, she never existed now."
"No, but she said the stars," Donna frowned. "She said the stars are going out."
"Yeah, but that world's gone."
"No, but she said it was all worlds. Every world. She said the darkness is coming even here."
The Alchemist frowned. All worlds? "Who was she?"
"I don't know," Donna shook her head.
"Well, what did she look like?"
Donna thought back. "She was . . . blonde."
The Alchemist's pale face went even paler. "What was her name?" the Doctor practically dropped the beetle, now paying even closer attention. Because if Rose had somehow made it to another reality . . .
"I don't know," Donna shook her head. "But she had this man with her."
"A man?" the Alchemist's eyes widened. "The man, was he black by any chance?"
"Yeah," Donna nodded.
"Oh, my God," the Alchemist put a hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. She didn't need to hear if Donna had heard their names or not. It was Rose and Mickey, it had to be.
"But she told me to warn you," Donna looked between them. "She said two words."
"What two words?" the Doctor asked, a sense of dread growing. "What were they? What did she say?"
"Bad Wolf," Donna answered. She didn't think the Alchemist could have gone any paler; she was very wrong. In fact, the woman looked close to fainting right on the spot, the Doctor jumping from his seat. "Well, what does it mean?"
The Doctor helped the Alchemist stand, then ran out into the marketplace. Everything, no matter where he looked, read Bad Wolf. He ran to the TARDIS, working on opening it, seeing even the instructions and the top of the box read Bad Wolf.
And inside, everything was glowing red. "Doctor, what is it?" Donna asked as she came in, the Alchemist clinging to her, the Time Lady shaking violently as she looked around. "What's Bad Wolf?"
The Doctor swallowed. "It's the end of the universe!"
The Cloister Bell suddenly rang out, then Donna screamed from behind him. "Doctor!"
He spun around in time to see Donna struggle to catch the Alchemist as the Time Lady collapsed like a sack of bricks. "Alice!" he shouted, running over, helping Donna lay her on the ground, her skin whiter than snow. "Alice, no!"
"Oh, my God," Donna swallowed hard. "Doctor, she's not breathing!"
"Alice!" the Doctor bent in close, cupping her face in his hands, willing for her to wake up, even as Donna tried shaking her. "Alice, wake up!"
"Alchemist, please!" Donna begged.
"Namara!" the Doctor tried telepathically. "Namara, please, wake up!"
But the Alchemist didn't even stir, the Cloister Bell continuing to toll as brother and sister desperately tried to wake the dying Time Lady.
***
Fun fact: the Wi-Fi in our apartment will not let me copy and paste the entire document at once. This was me copying and pasting one page at a time. Not fun.
On the other hand, because this was such a cliffhanger, I'm going to wrap this book up as soon as I can! That means I'm working on "The Stolen Earth" right now . . . and boy is that one going to be a doozy! And "Journey's End." Of course that one's going to be a doozy. Isn't it always? ;)
Keep an eye out! I hope to update "The Stolen Earth" soon. Here's hoping the train to Germany will enable me to type as well!