Prologue: Once More Unto the Breach

Nearly two years, the Doctor walked alone. She was gone. Another name to add to a list of people lost in the 900 years of the twisting ribbon of time he'd, thus far, inhabited. He never forgot their names, no matter how many wheres and whens he passed through. Oh yes, the multitude of names. All of his companions that had come to live in the pocket dimension that was his TARDIS and then left, leaving behind scars on his universe. He'd accepted it, each time they did he was torn a little bit more, each loss sticking another pin in his hearts. Come to think of it, he probably would look like a bleeding pin cushion if the imagery was literal.

There was something though, about Donna, something about the way she was, the way time folded itself to her. He remembered the numerous times she said to people, when they suggested the journeying would someday become too much for her, that she would stay with "that impossible man" forever. And for some reason, he had whole heartedly believed her. It wasn't because he loved her, because, in a way, he did, but rather because she knew what her life was like before she came with him. Temping, leaping from place to place and never settling, getting used to one thing and then having it ripped from under her as a solid replacement was hired, companies 'cutting their losses' when time got tough. She had begged him to leave her memories there, to leave everything she'd been to him alone so that she could continue to travel with him. Of all of the people, all of his companions, for selfish reasons, he'd been unable to do it, sparing her life rather than allowing her a few more minutes, maybe hours of happiness aboard the TARDIS. It was a guilt that continued to plague him, even after two years' time. He swore he would not take another companion, for their protection, and for his. In the same way he would never fight with weapons, he would forever walk the stars alone.

The TARDIS, with all of its levers, switches and buttons, had once again taken him somewhere without prompting. The Doctor pulled the monitor to him trying, with an increasing amount of vague annoyance, to find his location. Surprisingly, wherever and whenever he was, the monitor was able to pick up at least three television stations, all of which he turned off after careful study of each. It would seem that on Earth or whatever human planet he was on, the mid afternoon soaps had begun. Finally, after smacking the monitor substantially and then apologizing to no one in particular, he straightened up, grabbed his coat, and walked out the doors on the blue Police Call box.

Snow spun in circles around him and the wind of the Oodsphere was particularly fierce driving little nails of ice against his bare hands and face. Spirit undaunted by the weather, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and sauntered, with a measured arrogance, toward the brilliant and now even more complex structures of the Ood's creation.

The Doctor considered, for a moment that these people, whom he and Donna had saved, seemed to draw the TARDIS to them whenever he was in need of answers. Perhaps that was because most of his questions at the moment pertained to his continued existence, after all he knew he was supposed to have 'died.' "I think your song must end soon." Ood Sigma had said. But he had been wrong.

"Doctor." Ood Sigma approached him, tentacles on his face ever as disconcerting but eyes filled with wisdom, "It has been long years since our last meeting. Generations have been born and most from our time have died." Sigma tilted his head for a moment eyes narrowing in an almost human expression of thoughtfulness and regard.

"How long has it been?" The Doctor asked eyes wandering over the rising structures of the glacial precipice.

"Nearly three hundred years from the time of the DoctorDonna," Sigma replied, "Do you like our creations Doctor. It has taken many but we are long lived."

The Ood's shortened pattern of speaking and their habit of never saying more than what needed to be said would have been annoying to some but to the Doctor, their absolute honesty was refreshing. All the same he felt a bit of his shell slip away at the memories.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair for a moment, "Yes, your society has grown." His answer was distant as he thought, "Was it you that called me here?"

The Ood's silence stretched on for a while and then he nodded hesitantly, "In a manner of speaking, the Ood brought you here. It seems that your life is not what it should have been and the Elder is most troubled by this."

The Doctor nodded again, his brow furrowed in deliberation of this fact. It appeared that he was not the only one to think it odd.

"Does he want me to sit with him again then?" he asked quietly his mind still miles inside himself.

"He would much like your audience, yes," Sigma answered calmly.

"Well then, take me to the bloke," the Doctor piped up feigning enthusiasm.

Ood Sigma stared at him oddly for a moment and then he remembered that the Ood lacked a sense of humor. His comment was probably construed as rude, not that he cared, most generally he came across as rude anyway. The representative of the Ood led him away from the high cliff face and over the bridge spanning the bluish crevice. His mind wandered, remembering again with a pang of irritation, Donna's laugh. He almost growled, almost, but frustration was no way to get away from his own mind, his own guilt as he remembered how, even on this snow covered planet with its frigid temperatures, she had loved it more than her own home.

His internal musings were cut short as he realized he had fallen far behind Sigma. Taking a few quick steps he caught up again.

The path curved left then right and then again down through a snowy valley toward a cavern finely carved into the ice. Inside it the ice creaked and groaned as the glacier progressed on its path toward the underground sea-wells of this planet. Water dripped as the ice melted with the warm radiating from deep inside the tunnel. The Doctor observed the intricately carved symbols along the walls noticing and interpreting them as note and phrases of many of the Ood Songs. The beautiful music floated through his mind as he walked. The third brain must have been somewhere deep under the ice. For he could feel it's presence radiating through the solidified water below him.

A fire's warm glow welcomed them as they reached the many tiered cavern in the end of the cliff side's depression. The Doctor followed Sigma to the circle of Ood surrounding the small fire, down the many layers of ice to the very center, where the Elder of the Ood sat, chanting in rhythm with each crack and pop of the flames. He approached them quietly, the circle of Ood and then Elder waiting so as not to break they're ritual. The rhythm stopped and the wavering of the fire change but he took no notice to this as the elder extended a hand to him, directing him to the hole in the circle at his side.

"Oh," The Doctor commented, momentarily bemused, "You were expecting me."

"Yes, Doctor, we were." The Elder replied his calm monotone steady and firm, "But we expected another as well."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, brow wrinkling in thought as he sat. His brown trench coat folded out around him as he crossed his legs taking the hands of the Elder and another.

"You now dream with us, Time Lord, as you have done before, you join our song."

The Ood song, entered him as it always had but now it forged pathways through his already complex mind. The sensation that should have been unpleasant, was the least disturbing to him as his Time Lord mind found ways to accommodate for the rerouting of neurons. He didn't have to be human, he could be any species he wanted and for that he needed to change brains easily. And that is what he did.

Words and images flooded him each one no more than a flash of brilliant light behind his closed eyelids. In the wakeful sleep his consciousness occupied he saw the Time Lords he had so recently banished and saw, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the planet of Gallifrey orbiting the sun of the solar system. The massive planet dwarfed all of the others around it save for the gas giants.

Then it changed, showing him images from his memories, of Donna, each showing him, with increasing intensity along her path as his companion to the time where she became a fellow Time Lord. And then he saw her, in the alley, a time that was not his own recollection but the recollection of someone else or perhaps of no one. She was struggling, panicking and there were figures of the Master surrounding her trying to capture her. And then, quite suddenly light pulsed from her and they all dropped to the ground as heavy as boulders. If the Doctor had seen this sight himself, his jaw might have actually dropped open. Had he calculated wrong? Had he jumped to conclusions too soon to make a correct assumption? Had he mind just been making the transition from human to Time Lord and needed to adjust? Wilfred had said that she was fighting it, fighting the wipe he'd given her memory but could she really have remembered it all even for a brief second without it killing her? And then he saw them, Donna and Shawn on their wedding day and then later on the date of their daughter's birth. At least he assumed it must have been their daughter's birth but there was something eerily familiar about that child. The red hair was nothing to bother him but the skin and the eyes did, a light smattering of pale freckles covered the little girl's face and her skin was pale, too pale to be Shawn's. Then her eyes, her eyes were a dark chocolatey color but not a black brown like Mr. Temple's either, they were a warm gold brown.

The Doctor pondered the girl for a moment before noticing the sad and sorrowful expression on his former best friends face. Once again he saw her clutch her head and collapse, her hand over the baby's chest. He chewed on his lip for a moment as the image faded concern filling him. He saw Donna again, later talking to a teacher in a classroom, a little red-headed girl sitting next to her staring thoughtfully out the window. The girl said something and pointed out the window. Donna looked and expression of non-recognition passing over her features for a few moments. The Doctor looked out the window too, staring at the sight of his own Police Box sitting in the schoolyard.

He let the hands of the Ood go breaking the connection. The Elder stared at him strangely for a moment and then went on to speak.

"You see what we've seen, Doctor. You cannot delay the DoctorDonna needs you now that the Temple is gone," The Elder spoke solemnly and with assured certainty, "Your end was to come but it has changed. Now it is all to chance, Time Lord. We cannot see what you will bring, we can only forsee what must come to be."

"I'm in flux," The Doctor stood burying his hands in his hair, trying to compute the information he'd been given, but he could not make sense of it. How could he possibly have made so many mistakes?

Donna was Donna Temple-Noble now, wife of Shawn Temple, mother of one, daughter of Sylvia Noble and grand-daughter of Wilfred Mott. Well, until a week ago that was true; now she was simply Donna Noble again, sitting in black in a church cemetery, alone and unnoticed by anyone. He'd gone missing, Shawn had, disappeared in the blink of an eye and nothing had come in the way of news until Friday evening. She didn't know why she knew it, but with his death, something was terribly wrong. Something in the universe had shifted.

Normally she would have asked her granddad but she's long since given up on asking him things. Donna hadn't gotten a straight word out of him about any abstract concept since she had forgotten those six months of her life now over nine years ago. Certain things caused a stirring of memories almost as though they were forgotten dreams suddenly returning to the foreground of her mind for a few brief seconds. And then there were the suddenly bursts of brilliance at random times that she could not explain. With each of these things came sadness though. Incredible, painful sadness, nearly as soul stealing as the death of her husband. She allowed herself to stare at his grave for a while longer and then she gathered herself, wrapping and arm over her daughter's shoulders and gripping her tightly. Her head ached again and she could see the memories vague outline overlaying her vision of the rare sun that lit the cemetery.

Donna's hand rested over the six year-old's chest lightly and she could feel the beating of the girl's right heart. She shouldn't have lived as she did. She should have died moments after birth but, Catherine hadn't. The doctors had told her on birth that Catherine must have originally been a twin, there was no other explanation for having an extra heart. Somehow, her cardiovascular system had adapted, connecting to both without killing her. Catherine Temple-Noble was a strong child and Donna knew it. She was clever too, her mind operating beyond any IQ test the school's associates gave her. At the age of two she had tested on a secondary school level of understanding and cognition.

"Katie," she bent down to the little girl as they reached the car, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, "Catherine Martha Rose Temple-Noble, We're going to be strong aren't we? Even though we're sad, we're going to make it." Donna smiled weakly at her daughter, her voice breaking.

She never knew why she had felt it to be so important to name the girl those names but something inside her told her that is was right. Most of the time she spent trying to move on with her life but in reality she spent most of the time searching for the truth, the truth of those missing six months and why they were so important to her. Shadows rested in her mind like words on the tip of her tongue.

"We are already strong. And just because Daddy's gone doesn't mean he's really gone," Catherine replied matter of factly though she still seemed very downcast, "I did love him though, he was a great father and he played his part well. I think he knew the truth too though." The girl walked over to the car and pulled open the passenger door readying herself to hop into the seat, "That he wasn't my real father."

Donna stared at the little girl open mouth for a moment and then she close her jaw, grasping Catherine's shoulders, "What do you mean, you don't think he was your father?" That's completely impossible. She cannot be anyone's but his. A sharp pain twinged in her head again as she felt her mind taking action to protect herself from something. That happened far too often for her liking, but she always felt like she was being protected, no matter how the pain occurred.

"Well, I never looked very much like him," she began, "and he always seemed to be lightly irritated when he was around me, just a little bit, not a lot. But it was still there." Catherine smiled "And I have really pale skin too."

She was quiet for a moment and then replied, "Shawn was you father, baby. And I'm very sorry, but he is gone."

Despite the dreams she'd had that usually made her doubt her grip on sanity, she was absolutely certain that Catherine was Shawn's, there was no other way.

Catherine looked at her appraisingly and then the girl's hands came forward pressing against her temples. Her head was cocked to one side as she studied Donna, her mother, as though searching for something. Donna looked back at her, the space behind her eyes seemingly building in pressure, heat flooding her head forcing her to blink from the burning pain of it all. Catherine took her hands away, biting her lip as though she knew what her mother had felt.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, mommy." She stepped forward and hugged Donna.

Donna sat in one position for a few second stunned by her own daughter's behavior. Then she wrapped her arms around the paper-thin, ginger-headed child and held her tightly. It seemed as though it lasted for several moments but possibly longer and possibly shorter. When Donna stood and helped her daughter into the car seat, her knees were coated in dust from the gravel and felt like she'd been on that little cemetery lane for hours. The temp climbed into the little blue car, wondering for a moment that it was still functioning, and drove back to her little home in Chiswick.

Sylvia Noble had insisted upon them moving back home when Shawn had disappeared. There had seemed to a be a disproportionate amount of fear when she had told them that in order for her to be certain they were safe, she would have to have them there. She didn't want anyone coming for them. Donna might not have been displeased to be living with her grandfather again, but she most certainly had not missed the incessant nagging she'd always gotten from her mother. No matter what she was doing, it was wrong. She put the bread away wrong, she was raising her daughter wrong, she was not leading her life in a productive direction. She was the only person in the world since that 80's that was unemployed. The list kept going but throughout her years she'd learned to ignore the talk and chatter about all of these things and focus on her own thoughts.

Donna had recently noticed that there was an image growing on her mind that seemed to be becoming clearer with each passing day. It didn't seem as though it was something of her imagination either, but rather it was something concrete and of substance. It was square and blob like with little arms and legs but each time she grasped at the concept of it, it would slip away. Yet this memory did not cause her to feel pain as she had with other. It seemed almost as though the fog was beginning to lift, like someone had breathed on a mirror and was rubbing the fug away with their finger or fist.