Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Her mind burned.

The worlds inside, clashing, aching, splintering, fracturing, dying. All of the beautiful things she'd never seen ripped her to pieces. But no. Don't let him see. He can't suspect… he can't even imagine…

The pain. The ridiculous consuming pain. She could open her mouth and scream, wrench her jaw open and let the sound come out and it still wouldn't be enough space for screaming inside her head to come out. Her fingers clenched like claws, her nails digging into her palms.

"Donna?" he asked.

She turned away, bit her lip. Her fingers adjusted the TARDIS controls… since she understood them now. TARDIS. What a funny word. Time and relative dimensions in space. Spatial dimensions were expanding, and if she could link that to the time vortex, and if she just got a little kick of power, oh yes, and maybe hotwired the fragment links and superseded the binary…

No, no, he was looking at her, he was suspecting, he knew! He could see. His eyes, big and round and knowing, and she was burning… dying, exploding, bursting… oh god, it hurt, oh god Doctor, stop it, oh god just let it end!

"Forget Feldspoon," she choked brightly. Her mind was racing at a million miles an hour, she was drowning in knowledge to spectacular to ever think of. Didn't friction create heat? Maybe all those thought going so fast in her head, so much friction in her human brain, only earthly capable, barely bright enough to keep up, started the fire, the heat coming forward, sharp and stabbing…

Stabbing just like that wasp had tried to do when she met Agatha Christie. Agatha Christie, brilliant she was. That made her laugh, meeting Agatha Christie… you know what else made her laugh? Charlie Chaplin. Incredible he was, that Chaplin fellow—

Oh, burning! Her mouth moving as fast as her mind, and all the words wouldn't come out. There were too many ideas and she was drowning and burning all at once; she could see time and space and what was and could be all shattering her into pieces… she knew. She knew it had to stop had to end, oh god, he had to stop it, she had to leave… but they were together.

Forever.

He'd promised.

"Donna," he said. He knew. His arms wrapped around her. "I'm so sorry."

"No," she sobbed, and the entire universe poured into the word.

"Goodbye, Donna." His hands reached up.

"No, no, please, no!" She sobbed, the hot tears spilling out onto her face, burning her skin.

His fingers pressed gently against her temples. His eyes reached up to hers, locking, a moment, a second, a split flash of time. Her weeping, her pain, his as well, everything collapsing, the supports of the entire universe cracking and snapping, and a final sob escaped her.

He closed his eyes. The Doctor took the universe from her head. For an instant she saw him, the world, clear. No more burning. Peace. Coolness.

Numb.

And then it was all gone.