I referred to this scene in a story and decided to expand on it a bit. I own nothing!
Eventually the passengers had been questioned, checked over and cleared to leave. Donna Noble watched their faces, shocked into impassivity, as they clung to each other and looked around nervously.
None of them met the Doctor's eyes.
She knew what had occurred, not so much from his stumbled account, but from the statement he had made to the rescue squad. In both cases, he spoke quickly, as if to get it said as fast as possible. The statement version had been expressionless, as if it hadn't happened to him, but to some other unknown person.
"They tried to throw me off," he said tonelessly. At that, Donna glanced angrily over at the rest of the group.
"You're a bunch of cowards!" she shouted, "wasn't there even one of you who..."
The Doctor quickly reached for her arm and shushed her gently. She clamped her lips shut, shooting him a defiant glance.
"And what stopped them?" the serviceman asked, ignoring her completely.
"You'll get a better account from them," the Doctor replied, "I don't remember much after that. Until you lot showed up. I remember the air hostess...and Sky. Going through the..." He stopped abruptly.
Them
"Thank you," the serviceman said, "I think we have all we need for now, Doctor, wasn't it?" He looked over the Doctor in a doubtful way, as if unconvinced of his innocence.
"You'd best go to the medical team now," Donna said, "then we can go home." Later, she would realise that that was the first time she'd described the TARDIS as home.
"No, I'm fine," he said, "whatever happened out there, isn't anything a medical team can fix."
"I still think you need to..."
"No." He said it firmly. She opened her mouth to argue any further, but then she realised that his hand was still holding to her arm. Clinging to it, in fact. She pretended not to notice but said no more.
She felt guilty entering the TARDIS that night. In every other situation where they'd encountered something horrific, frightening or potentially traumatic, there'd been the two of them. Even if they never admitted to the other that they felt shaky, it was still something shared. Something to clutch tight and brood over, but at least together. After Pompeii, it had ended up in an all night game of
Monopoly. Planet Monopoly, mind you. Every so often, their laughter died and they would look at each other, and quickly continue the game for the sake of preserving composure and sanity.
He'd won.
But tonight, it was just him. She was fine...pampered, hydrated, relaxed.
It was the way he'd said them that scared her most. The Doctor loved the Earth and the human race. But that evening, in his disdainful dismissal of the small group of survivors, she'd seen the whole human race turn into something different entirely in his eyes. There had been a shadowed look in his face ever since, and even his walk beside her to the TARDIS felt different. He was hesitant, as if taking baby steps in a new and completely unfamiliar world.
"Where'd you want to go next?" he asked, staring intently at the screen in front of him.
"I don't mind," she said.
He shrugged and turned away from the screen, running his fingers over the controls alongside it. He walked around the console, restless and unfocused. She'd never seen him like that.
"Are you ok?" she asked tentatively.
"I'm fine," he said shortly.
"It was just...the way it happened. Everyone turning on you. I'm sorry it happened to you like that."
"Wasn't your fault."
"No, I know...but I wish I'd been there."
He turned sharply then to look at her and she knew, knew, that he was biting back something, something big that couldn't be retracted. Perhaps an accusation that she too would have wanted him thrown off the aircraft. Even unsaid, it burned.
She pulled over one of her bags and pulled out the bottle of red wine her friend Alice had given her for her birthday. The following week, she had decided to pack and be ready for the Doctor and she had packed the wine, deciding that there might be a summer evening on some balmy planet, or a winter's day somewhere cosy where it would come in handy.
"Come on," she said, "have a glass with me. You need to relax." His pacing was starting to make her feel slightly sea-sick.
"No, thanks."
"Well, at least sit down then!"
He came over somewhat reluctantly and sat.
"Do you want to try and sleep?" He looked really tired, which was unusual.
"No, not yet," he hesitated slightly and she heard what wasn't said rather than what was.
"I was a PA once, for about three weeks...he was like a director or something...drugs company. And being in a meeting with him, taking the minutes...all you could do was write. No matter if someone said something you had an opinion on. Or someone looked at you crossways. You were just there to write, never mind if you didn't hear it properly, you couldn't ask them to repeat what they'd said." She was completely babbling. She could see his face crease with polite bewilderment.
"Three weeks..." He repeated faintly. His eyes had glazed over slightly and she could see that he was disappearing, back to that aircraft. She nudged his arm.
"Yeah...I walked out before they could fire me! That was before HC Clements. In between, there was a few weeks with Mr Davis...solicitor. God, he was a talker! He'd be in your face all the time, talking about this and that. The state of his lawn, the fact that his childrens' teachers weren't properly qualified, the state of the economy, and traffic...he was obsessed with traffic and the length of time it took him to get anywhere...he'd just talk and talk about it. And in my head, I'd be well out of there, but nodding and agreeing because that was all he wanted." She stopped and laughed shortly, "and then he'd get annoyed at how little I'd done while he was talking!"
She was still babbling. The old last resort...yet, for some unknown reason, she had his attention.
"And there was a health and safety place, wasn't there?" He was even smiling.
"Yeah...god! That was awful! They gave talks to offices and workplaces, right? And I had to come and make notes, or hand out notes, or carry the equipment and listen to Mr Taylor's lewd comments. You try smiling and looking charming in front of strangers when his hand goes somewhere by accident! He was bloody lucky his health and safety were intact when I left!"
"Good for you!"
"God, my mother was annoyed," Donna stared at her hands, "she thought it had good prospects. Prospects!"
"Your mother's lucky to have you. That's all the prospects she needs."
"Come on!" She nudged him, "don't let me drink all this. Have a glass!"
"Never really been able to do alcohol properly."
"Well never mind that! It's more the...principle of the thing. Have a bad day, relax with a glass of wine! Usually works for me."
"A bad day. Traffic jams. 9 to 5. Family." The corners of his mouth twisted slightly, "and do you think you've ever, really had a bad day, Donna? An actual bad day?"
That did it. She put the bottle aside and stood up, meeting his eyes squarely.
"Well, maybe I haven't. Maybe I haven't had days where the future of the human, or any other race, has been in my hands. Maybe I haven't had that. But I've had bad days, Doctor, ok? Human bad days!" He winced slightly at the word human but she was too fired up to care.
"I've had days where the only thing getting me through work was the thought that I could ring in sick tomorrow if it got too bad, right? Or days where I've sat with my mother trying to convince her that she's not alone and that I'd make everything ok when really, we've never got on that well! I've had days where I've had to admit that I'm a coward to leave her and that I ran away because it was easier than staying behind." Donna stopped and took a deep breath.
The Doctor stood stock still, regarding her.
"Donna, I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you."
She nodded, sat and held out the pre-offered glass.
"Thanks." He took a sip. If it wasn't to his taste, he made no comment. Probably too scared, Donna thought. Shouting at the poor man when he was obviously traumatised!
They drank in silence for a moment, Donna refilling both glasses.
"Fear changes people, I should know that," the Doctor said eventually, "it's just...hearing what they said...throw him out...and their faces...it was like there was nothing left of them. And nothing I could do...no control."
"They panicked," Donna said softly, "and they probably feel terrible about that."
He nodded.
For a moment, they were both silent. She poured the remainder of the wine between them. The Doctor looked back at the console with a sigh.
"Where do you want to go next?" she asked.
Not meeting her eyes, he muttered, "somewhere dark and quiet."
She reached for his hand and held it.
"And I think you need to go somewhere bright," she said gently, "somewhere where the sun is bright and warm and makes you feel better. You need to...ring in sick tomorrow!"
"What?"
"Yeah...no saving the world, or making decisions, or running away!"
"What if we get chased?"
"Then we'll chase them right back!"
He smiled briefly at her.
"You know what I love about you humans?" She shook her head.
"Your empathy!"
"But I haven't..." She frowned, "there's nothing I can say to properly understand...anything you've been through."
"But there is. I told you before, you make sense of chaos. You're full of this potential, you people, potential for savagery, potential for kindness and sometimes...that's nearly worse and all the while...it's empathy...you feel so much."
"So do you."
He shook his head a little sadly.
"I've seen too much. Nothing surprises me, Donna. Shocks me, yes. Surprises me, no." The shadows were back in his eyes. She filled their glasses, suddenly realising that the bottle should be well empty by now. She looked around the TARDIS suspiciously. She'd laughed at the Doctor at first he first mentioned that the blue box had a life and personality of its own but more and more lately, she could see his point. They drank in silence.
"You still don't know...what it was?" Donna asked finally. There was no point trying to change the subject, she thought. It was like the evenings at home with her mother before Gramps moved in. If someone didn't point out the elephant in the room, there was far more chance of getting trampled by it.
The Doctor glanced sideways at her and swirled the liquid around in his glass. He shook his head slowly.
"No...and probably never will," he said, "it's not so much what it was, anyway, as long as it's...gone now. It's what..." He stopped.
"I know."
"You'll be ok," she added quietly. Maybe he'd sleep, she thought. She'd get a blanket. She got up, and immediately the console room swirled around her. She put a hand to her head, as if pressing against her eyes would make them focus properly. Hands steadied her as the Doctor caught hold of her and eased her gently back.
"God!" she said, disgusted, "I can't handle my drink anymore!"
"No, it's the atmosphere." She could see he was trying not to laugh, "affects certain...tolerances."
"Great...so we're going to die tomorrow morning." She winced inwardly at her choice of words but he didn't seem to notice, "I think I have painkillers somewhere in my bags."
"Nah, I can do better than that. There's a great hangover cure...mind you," he sighed, "it's on Venus. On the side of a volcano. Great stuff though...blasts the cobwebs!"
"Ok," Donna said, "my head'll be so bad I don't think a volcano will make it any worse. What?" He was looking at her, amused.
"You'd follow me anywhere, wouldn't you?"
"Haven't much choice, have I? You're the driver!"
But he took her hand and squeezed it.
"Thank you," he said quietly. He leaned his head back and she could see his eyes begin to close.
"For what? You had a terrible experience and I'm the one who got drunk!" She leaned her head on his shoulder, "I'll get up in a minute when the spin stops rooming...or I mean...whatever...make you tea or coffee or whatever you want. Anything. I just want to help." She patted his back gently. Despite her best efforts, her eyes were closing.
But before the room disappeared completely, she felt a faint kiss on the top of her head and a whispered voice against her ear.
"You did, Donna. You always do."
.