Doctor Who

Because You're Special

Who are you...? James Bond?

The Doctor muffled a cry, inching to the door of his war-battered blue box. Sometimes, he thought, using his stained hands to pull him to his feet and pushing back the heavy wooden door to tumble into the dark quiet of the TARDIS, sometimes, everyone dies… even him. The door clicked shut behind him, silencing the sounds of lingering carnage from beyond.

He was having trouble breathing now, the shrapnel from the Dalek's latest weapon making even the slightest movement unbearably painful. "To live to see such a day," He said softly, taking in another slow breath, "To live no more after."

It was tempting. To just die here. Moments after his people's destruction, seconds after the end of the Daleks… but he still had more life in him. Surely, something good could, would, must come after this day. Someone had promised him…that nice ginger haired woman in Barcelona…she'd promised him that she would see him on the other side. Somewhere, that woman, Donna, was waiting for him.

He struggled to the console, shuddering from cold, and ordered the TARDIS to Earth.

He felt the burning from the inside of his hearts, the pounding inside his brain and finally let himself scream as he was enveloped in the gold of regeneration energy. The fire erased him, rippling over his body, and built a new form for his heavy mind.

The new Doctor gasped, dropping to the floor. After a moment, he made it to his feet and flung back the TARDIS doors. Everything in London—for that of course was where he landed—was covered in the clean white fluff of snow and he breathed in deep. Clean. He wanted to feel that way too, to pick up handful of this pure substance and ram it into his eyes and purge them of all that he'd seen and fill his ears with the beautiful silence until all the screams and memories were voiceless and void.

"New man," He laughed bitterly, "same mind… hopeless case, I am."

"Oh my god!" A shrill voice broke out, ruining the solitude. A human girl, dressed in a worn leather coat and oversized boots, raced to him. "It is blood, isn't it? Oh my god!"

"Eh now," he batted her hands away, still trying to adjust to the sound of his voice, "I'm fine. So you can take your grubby little hands…"

"And what?" The teen stared up at him defiantly.

He looked down at her. The girl was a little heavy for her height and age and she wore a little too much makeup. Her mascara was a bit faded on her cheeks like she had been crying not too long ago. He noticed that her outfit clashed, not in style but quality, as if her Mum had bought her clothes for school but she'd picked a jacket and boots out of a rubbish heap…. Something about her face was so familiar.

It was her.

Her hair was all the wrong color, a sad dyed blond-shade, but it was her. The girl was Donna.

"What?" She demanded, hands on hip, scowling. "Eyes!"

"What?"

"I saw you, cowboy." She glared, tucking her jacket around her body.

"What?" He repeated, still staring at her face. It took the Doctor a few seconds to follow her train of thought. He stepped back, trying not to laugh outright. "Rude little thing like you…? You're just a child…I'm not from the 51st century!"

"What?" Donna looked up at him, confused.

"Not important." He replied brusquely. Brusque. This incarnation was brusque. "What's important is that…you were right." He smiled, realizing that the younger Donna had no idea what he was talking about, "You did see me on the other side. All that time in the War, I thought, that woman had to be right, I'll get through this—even though I had no idea if you'd been lying or not—and here we are. Isn't that fantastic?"

"Is this some sort of joke? Did Nerys put you up to this? Oh. This has Nerys written all over it." She looked at him, frowning, "Did you get your holidays mixed, mate? This is Christmas Eve, not Halloween…"

"I know, I know." His accent sounded so weird in his own ears.

"Are you alright?" She put a hand to his bloodied chest, "Is that real blood?"

"Yes, Donna." He took her hand in his and for some reason, it felt right. "Don't be frightened."

She stared up at him, her eyes wide. "I'm not frightened. I'm not frightened of anything, sunshine."

"That's good, 'cause its real blood."

"Did you kill someone?" She stepped backwards.

"…I was in a war."

"A war? In the middle of London?"

He laughed shortly, "No. Far away, Donna. It's over now. I ended it."

Donna stared at him wide-eyed before flipping her peroxide-ruined hair over her shoulder and shrugging. "Are you daft?"

"Maybe," He grinned cheekily, glad to be able to smile for the first time in way too long. It felt good. He felt like the Doctor again, not like a weapon in a war. "Maybe. New body. I could be anything…don't know yet."

"You're daft." She confirmed.

"Fine, I'm daft." He bent forward, "How's my face? Handsome?"

"Not really."

"Big nose…and ears…" His hands roamed his face, checking to make sure he had all his facial features. "Ah well. I'm sure it is a fine intelligent face. Always is."

"Should I call the police?" Donna asked, still staring at the blood on his tattered clothing. "I should call the police."

"Police Box over there." He nodded to the TARDIS behind him.

Slowly, she walked over the blue box and pulled the door open. He watched her in the doorway, her body stiffening and smiled.

"No way!" She whirled on her heel, staring at him, "It's…bigger inside."

"Really, hadn't noticed." He bounced on his heels before zipping inside. "Welcome to my TARDIS—Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It's a time machine, space-ship and home combined. Sort of a three-in-one all-purpose vehicle. What do you think of that, Donna?"

Donna blinked. "I dunno. It's a spaceship?"

He added helpfully, "The TARDIS."

"You have a spaceship? Who are you…James Bond?"

"My name is the Doctor."

"Donna," She stepped forward hesitantly, "Donna Noble."

"I know."

"…How do you know?"

He leaned forward conspiratorially, whispering, "I'm an alien."

"No way!" She bit her bottom lip, staring at him, "A proper alien? A proper rocket-box? It's not a hoax…? It's gotta be a hoax, right?"

"Well, if you can't believe you own eyes…what does that leave?"

Donna leaned against the TARDIS's doorway, rubbing at her face, "This has nothing to do with Nerys, does it?"

"No." He frowned, "Who is this Nerys?"

"Just a mate. Sort of." She glanced up at him, her fingers flickering as she mentally ticked off the new information. It was always wonderful for the Doctor to watch a mind being opened to the possibilities of impossibilities. "And that's proper blood and you were in a proper war…"

"Are you thick or what?"

"I am not!" She gasped and prepared to slap him.

He snatched her hand and held it. She reminded him a little of Ace, feisty and independent but still someone who care about people. That meant that she was someone special. "Fantastic…So, Donna…you want to come? Anywhere… the whole galaxy, all of time and space, pick an adventure and run."

She stared into his eyes, silent.

"Travel with me in a police-box?"

"I'll have to pack."

"Pack?"

"We don't have time to pack?" She stepped into the snow, putting her hands in her pockets, "Willy's just down the street. You'll need a new jacket anyway. Everyone needs a good jacket, that's what my Dad says."

"Well," He paused, crossing his arms and finding that he liked the feel of his arms crossed. He'd have to remember that for this regeneration. "I could use some socks."

She smiled brightly up at him. "C'mon then, Martian boy. Shopping!"

The door flung back, scattering too bright light across her bedroom. The woman sat up, one hand fumbling for her weapon on her night-stand. A second later, she realized it was only her sister.

"Eve! It's in the middle of the night."

"We are in the TARDIS. Night is relative." Eve replied flatly, her clipboard in her hands, as it was perpetually. "We have a problem."

"Really?" She sank back into her bed, replacing the gun on the table.

"Yes."

"And…?"

"Jenny, we missed one."

"Eve…" She tossed a pillow at her younger sister, "Come back when you feel like speaking more than a few words at a time."

"Father's eighth incarnation. He managed to escape Barcelona with knowledge of her. It's likely that it is just a matter of time before…"

"It can wait."

"But… the time stream."

"It can wait."

"But, Jenny—"

"Let them have their fun. We'll pick them up in the morning."

"But that could be years for them. We have to…"

"In the morning. Dismissed." Jenny turned and rolled back over in bed. Eve quietly shut the door.

Jenny, the Doctor's daughter, had quite enough of wiping people's minds for one day. It could wait until morning…or a few years…one little chance meeting wouldn't change anything…

The End

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you had fun. I appreciate everyone's reviews. If you are interested in how Jenny ended up being the "villain" here, you can take a look at my other DW story.