Soli Deo gloria

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. I had entered this story in a contest a bit back, didn't get much feedback, decided to put it here. :)

Wilf did not feel very well. Not very well a'tall. But that was to be expected, of course, when he was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a number of machines and wires that were supposed to make him feel better, but ultimately didn't. It was only a matter of time, he knew, and he had resigned himself to his fate with a very calm regard to it. He spent most of his time reading the books he had never gotten around to reading or studying star maps or getting visited by his daughter and his granddaughter, Donna.

Speaking of her, she was due to see him that afternoon, and so he was propped up against his hospital bed, looking expectantly toward his numbered door.

It was opened, but instead of his loud, cheerful granddaughter, it was a black-haired nurse, hand on the knob, the other in a fist gently against the door.

"Oh, it's just you," Wilf said quietly. "I'm sorry, I was expecting Donna."

"You've got another visitor, Mr. Mott," the nurse said in a Welsh accent. "The doctor has come to see you."

Wilf groaned and turned away, saying, "No, not another one of those pesky doctors. I don't want another medicine dose or whatnot, I swear, I'll be more full of holes than skin at the end of all this. . ."

"Oh, you don't want to see me, do you now?" a voice said from the door, a very cheerful, soft voice that instantly made Wilf turn back in astonishment.

He had never seen this man before. This man with long dark hair and a childish face, with clear lines on his face and no eyebrows. A bow tie was placed on his chest, and he was wearing a tweed jacket, and of all the hats in the world, a fez. Wilf knew that his granddaughter loved hats, but she had never the adventure to buy a fez.

This man leaning in the doorway, a soft smile on his face, his countenance just begging for an invitation into the room, instantly struck Wilf as to who he was. The nurse had said "The Doctor. . ."

Wilf's look of surprise made the Doctor smile a bit harder. "Hello, Wilf. It's been a long time."

"How long for you?" Wilf asked, surprised, looking overcome with joy.

"A few hundred years, give or take," the Doctor said, almost flippantly, cheerfully. He noted the astonishment on the old man's face and nodded to a chair. "Mind if I sit down, or I am just supposed to stay here, lurking in doorways? Not what mothers want."

The Doctor quickly leaped over to a chair and landed haphazardly on it, making Wilf grin and the nurse smile before she closed the door behind her. The Doctor sat up straight and clasping his hands loosely over his crossed legs, said, "Well, it's good to be back."

"It's so good to see you again, Doctor. But-but I thought you died. You know, you were in that chamber, you took up that yellow radiation stuff," Wilf said. He smiled lightly, letting out a breathy laugh, "But here you are now. You look younger, you know."

"Seems to be a trend for me, now. Looking younger but getting older," the Doctor said quietly.

"Wish I had that power," Wilf said.

The Doctor grinned. "Oh, no you don't, Wilf."

"Seriously, though. Imagine if I was like you. I could grow into a nice young body once this one's long gone," Wilf said.

The Doctor didn't want to encourage him, so he just nodded his head slowly, hurriedly thinking to change the subject. That's why he had come to Wilf now, wasn't it? To talk with the old man.

Wilf noticed, and said quickly, "Well, how has the traveling come along? Met anyone that stuck, Doctor?" The old man looked concerned. "Oh, tell me you're not traveling alone. Not for so long!"

"Oh, I've got friends, don't worry, Wilf," the Doctor said quietly, calmly. He rested his arms down against the armrests. "Don't worry about me."

"What're their names?" Wilf wondered.

"Amy and Rory. The Ponds," the Doctor said proudly. "Rory, nothing more than a nose, really. Amy, she's a redhead, though I'm not replacing Donna, mind you—"

"Never said you were," Wilf said, chuckling.

The Doctor fell back in his seat at that. His fingers tapped against his armrests. That was one of the many factoring reasons why he hadn't wanted to come today (he did, though). He might run into Donna. Of course, she wouldn't recognize him, but to just have her near him sent a feeling of guilt through him. She didn't remember anything, but he knew. Wilf knew. She didn't.

The Doctor straightened and immediately shot into a conversation of his usual antics around the universe, saving it here, nearly blowing it up there, screwing up an entire race's survival and then saving them once more there. Wilf took it all in like a sponge; wide-eyed, almost like a child being told bedtime stories.

And so, after a long talk, with the thoughts of the Ponds, who were on one of their 'real life breaks,' and Donna gone from his mind, the Doctor stopped talking mid-sentence when the door behind him opened and in came Donna Noble, wearing a purple shirt and a brown jacket, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her brashness unchallenged as she said, "You know, I did knock, Gramps."

"Oh, of-of course you did, Donna," Wilf said quickly, glancing between the Doctor and his granddaughter.

"Yeah." Donna looked a little over toward the Doctor, who had a frozen, statue-like look on his face, as she quickly closed the door and marched over to her gramps' bed. "Nice hat you got there," she commented, nodding to the Doctor's fez.

"Thank you," the Doctor said quietly.

Donna went on to rant to Wilf about how the stupid doctors wanted him to take his pills, and she turned to the Doctor and said, "Sorry, but you gotta go. Them's rules, you know."

"But, wait—" Wilf said, but the Doctor smiled and stood up, raising a hand in silent, calm protest.

"I needed to be heading back anyway." He reached out his hand, saying, "It was nice talking to ya, Wilfred."

Their hands caught and stayed connected, and their eyes met, just for a moment, and Wilf knew everything the Doctor wanted him to know.

The Doctor nodded and slipped his hands in his pockets, and as he headed toward the door, Donna called after him, "Hey, what was your name, by the way?"

The Doctor looked at the ground. "John Smith."

Donna looked a bit taken at that, but then shook it off as he closed the door behind him. She turned back to her gramps. "You know a lot of John Smiths."

Wilf shrugged. "It's a fairly common name."

She shrugged and continued to chat about life about their house with Mum, but Wilf barely heard her. He was instead looking outside his window, where he could see the cool, cloudy British sky.

And a blue box flying off into the distance.

Thanks for reading!