Title: Eclipse
Rating: R
Pairing: Ten/Donna (Friendship, UST)
Word Count: 1,465
Summary: Donna asks the Doctor to tie up some loose ends. Spoilers for Doctor Who 4.13 - Journey’s End.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Story title inspired by The Frames.
Author’s Notes: I had every intention of holding this one off until I finished the chapter I’m in the middle of (which is eating my brain... I cannot seem to get it right, but that’s beside the point), but I thought what the heck - I’m out of town for a few days, and I didn’t want to wait any longer. Sort of one of those essential chapters in terms of keeping the plot tidy, but it does serve its purposes in regards to developing the emotional strand a bit more. I do hope you all enjoy it, and the direction it takes; comments are more love than you can suppose, and I appreciate them like woah.


Part One: Eulalie
Part Two: Desperate Moments In Linear Time
Part Three: Ontological Subjectivity
Part Four: Better Than One
Part Five: Ātman
Part Six: Only
Part Seven: Two To Tango
Part Eight: Sonnets To A Dark Lady





Part Nine: The Forgotten Tide


They’re back in the TARDIS, and the Earth is once again a fond memory somewhere far away when Donna decides that it’s time.

“I’m ready,” she said softly, her voice echoing around the control room, bouncing off the veritable walls of tension that had been spiraling around the Doctor ever since they’d left Cardiff. Part of her doesn’t want to let go of what she knows, all the memories of such fantastic things, but the other part of her knows that she has to - hopes that if she does, the Doctor will look at her again without having to look away just as quickly.

He was quiet for a long strand of interminable minutes following her declaration, his posture slumped and heavy, his face tired and his eyes ancient as they focused on nothing. “I know,” he finally murmured, passing a hand roughly over his features and stroking it back shakily through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he told her, soft and mournful with a shake of his head, finally glancing towards her for an instant before breaking contact again. “I’ve put this off for too long.”

He swaggered towards her, almost unbalanced, his neck sloped down and his hair hanging limply in front of his face as he approached her, fatally slow in his motions, only just dragging his feet one before the other. “Come on,” he spoke low, rough - his hand in hers was cool and lifeless as he grasped on and tugged her along towards the endless corridors of the TARDIS, nodding more to himself than anything else. “We’ll take care of this.”

He led her down a hall she wasn’t quite familiar with, a hall that seemed to have no end, until they reached a door - one she’d never seen. He made to open it, pulling her with him, but he paused abruptly as she placed a hand on his shoulder, stalling him in his tracks. “Before we start...” she ventured, her eyes trained on his lips, only making it part of the way to his eyes. “I want you to let me feel it.”

He was silent, but not because he didn’t understand - she knew that; could feel that much. Gulping down her reservations, she took a steadying breath and plunged forth. “I want you to stop dampening the Time Lord consciousness. I want to feel everything. I want to see like you see.”

She shrugged when he continued to say nothing, his expression only darkening with her words. “For all we know, I won’t even be able to,” she attempted casually, trying to soften the blow of her request.

“No, Donna,” the Doctor finally replied, his voice low, but wavering - filled to the brim with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “You will.” His hand covered her own where it was still balanced upon his shoulder, gripping her tight, his nails digging into her fingers. “And that’s what terrifies me.”

He raised his head just a bit, his hooded eyes glistening beneath his lashes as he watched her, trying to make her understand. “It drove some of the brightest among us mad, and we knew what was coming, had prepared for it,” he breathed, the words harsh and piercing, their urgency profound. “You’ve barely had a month to adjust to all of this.” He shook his head, at a loss, averting his gaze once more as he brooded.

“Don’t you believe in me, Doctor?” Donna asked suddenly, forcing his eyes to flicker fully up to her own where she held him, transfixed at the wonder, the insecurity she still felt, that still swirled in her gaze.

“Of course I do,” he whispered passionately, letting his hand wander to the top of her head, stroking down towards her neck as he watched her, his eyes melting over her as he took her in, as he stared down her very soul and held it, caressed it almost; her whole being alight before he broke the spell with a sharp gasp and a reluctant nod.

“Right then,” he conceded, his tone as heavy as his hearts. “It’s done. No more blocking it. We stop today.”

He placed his palm on the doorknob and didn’t bother twisting; the door opened at just his touch. “The compound that was interfering with that part of your mind might take a week or two to leave your system completely,” he explained as he led her into the chamber beyond - a room of sheer and complete darkness, where only his voice existed to anchor her in the black. “But we’ll take it one step at a time, yeah?”

Donna exhaled slowly, her eyes shining with a gratitude he couldn’t see anymore, but she hoped that he could feel, as she breathed softly; “Thank you.”

The Doctor nodded - she could feel the shake of his shoulders to indicate as much - his motions tense, jerky. “Let’s get on with this, shall we?” he asked curtly, his words sharp as he clapped his hands together, sighing as he tried to hide his discomfort. Wordlessly, Donna walked towards him, following his lead as he sat down, crossed-legged in the blank ether.

“Relax,” he whispered, and she could feel him - see him in her mind, staring her directly in the eyes, his soul shining murkily in their depths, somewhere inside her own soul as she breathed, quick and nervous despite his words. “You don’t have to do anything else. I’ll take care of everything.” His hands reached out to her, slowly urging her closer until their knees brushed, his palm cradling her face as he murmured gently; “I’m not going to hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

The despair that flooded his being, his presence in her own consciousness; that despair broke her hearts just a bit as she nodded without a second thought, a surge of conviction consuming her for only an instant as she hissed fiercely in answer; “Yes.”

“Alright.” His voice was timid - so unlike himself as he touched her, both hands against her now, forefingers resting on her temples. “Here goes.”

And it was nothing like she would have envisioned, nothing like she would have imagined. It was quick and painless and utterly incomprehensible, flashes of colors and sounds that were there for an instant but not long enough to process, gone with half a breath, disappearing in the space between heartbeats. She gasped in rapid succession, dizzy from the whirling images ad the lack of oxygen, but it was over before she could so much as think to inhale just the once. She felt herself fall against him, bereft of something she couldn’t quite name, that she knew but didn’t know. She breathed against him, clinging to his thin frame and relishing the feel of him doing just the same, clutching her tight and desperate against his chest; she anchored herself against him, centering on the scent of him, the feel of his hearts hammering against her cheek, the rustle of his suit on her skin.

“How do you feel?” he asked after a moment, his voice soft and his lips moist against her scalp.

“Dizzy,” she breathed into him, not yet ready to pull away. “But alright.”

“But...” He made the decision for her and pushed her back, his eyes narrowing and his hands roaming over the outer lines of her body in genuine, heartfelt concern. She registered that the room was suddenly filled with the dimmest of lights; it was empty, completely devoid of anything but the two of them, illuminated in a dusky brown glow from somewhere far away. “You’re okay?”

She shrugged, missing the feel of him against her acutely. “Seems so.”

The Doctor stood them, pulling Donna to her feet and steadying her as she swayed a little, holding her still as she regained her balance. “Your choice, this time.”

Donna blinked up at him in question. “What?”

The Doctor smiled, taking her hand in his and leading her back towards a door that she was quite certain hadn’t existed before, and was most certainly not the one they’d entered through. “Your turn to decide where it is we go,” he answered, exiting through the opening and walking back into the control room where they’d began. “Anywhere in the universe,” he pulled away from her, leaning back against the central console. “Any time. At your fingertips.”

She raised a wary eyebrow in his direction. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere,” was his only reply, his face open and his tone warm as he grinned at her encouragingly.

She took just barely a moment to consider before returning his smile, approaching the controls and setting the coordinates. “I know just the place.”


Part Ten: Fifth Symphony in Ood Minor