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I think everyone is speed-writing their own versions of the finale right now, and here's mine.
Title: Straight Lines
Characters: Donna, the Doctor
Rating: G
Wordcount: about 900
Spoilers for: Journey's End
Given that Catherine Tate would not stay, how to end Donna's story? An alternate conclusion to Journey's End.
When the Doctor walks back into the TARDIS, his steps hesitant and his face set in that annoying mixture of stern and sorry, Donna knows what he wants to say. She can feel the explosions in her brain, tiny suns flaring and going dark forever. She isolates huge sections – chronosense, hyperspatial awareness, even the connection with the TARDIS – but it's not going to be enough. And her mouth won't stop moving, chattering, repeating, stuttering.
He moves towards her, deadly hands outstretched and the sparkle of broken glass catches her eye, from the shards of the container that held the Doctor's severed hand.
"Oi! Stop!" she roars, her own volume making her certain. "Twenty-four hours. It's the first twenty-four hours, you idiot."
He looks down at his hands, then shoves them into his pockets, nonchalant. "Oh. Yeah, I knew that." He frowns. "But you can't regenerate. You're still human, Donna."
"It's not a regeneration. It's remodelling. You grew a new hand, I need – need – need – need –" it takes a moment to break free of the loop, "–to grow a new brain." The Doctor raises an eyebrow and Donna scowls at him. "Well, a new shape of brain."
"I hope you're not going to run in front of a van again."
"It didn't hurt that much." Seeing the Doctor's horrified expression, Donna punches him in the arm and grinned. "Don't be daft. You're the one who said I can't actually regenerate. Just let my brain run down and..." Donna collapsed onto the TARDIS console. The Doctor catches her as she slides towards the floor, in time to ease her down gently. He paces for a moment, as she lies entirely still, then pulls off his jacket and folds it beneath her head. The regenerative energy is already beginning to glow behind her eyelids and in her hair.
He walks around her, nervous energy sparking and twitching, while Donna's face begins to shine so brightly that he can see the shape of her skull beneath. He paces around the console, still warm from the touch of so many loving hands, and it's not until he's made it all the way around for the third time that he realises that something is wrong. It's not just Donna's head that is glowing now – her whole body is pulsing with light. Her eyes are open, now, and calm, but her body is unstuck from time, the delicate linearity of her human lifetime torn apart, beads falling from a string and scattering on the floor.
Donna sits up straight, the golden energies twinkling into nothing. "That wasn't so-" She stops abruptly at the sound of her own voice, and at the Doctor's astonished stare. She scrambles to her feet, clutching at her suddenly oversized clothes, and draws herself up to her full height of four feet, four inches. "And don't you dare laugh, mate!"
Donna looks about eight years old.
"I'm not laughing!" Indeed, the Doctor looks deeply shocked. "I thought it was just going to heal your brain."
Donna wriggles out of her stockings and cinches her belt in a vain attempt to keep her grey tunic – now a floor-length dress – in place. "You know? I think that's exactly what it did." She clears her throat, trying to lower her pitch a little. "I didn't need a bigger brain. I needed a more elastic brain, and an adult brain wasn't going to cope."
"Oh! Of course!" The Doctor grins, his excitement returning in a great and unstoppable wave. "So much energy taken up by that bendy little mind in there that there wasn't enough left to maintain an adult body! But you'll grow up with it, this time, and it will all grow with you! All your energy and my knowledge, bound together properly, not struggling to fit. Brilliant!"
Donna lets out such a tremendous sigh that it ruffles her fringe. "I suppose it'll be worth it. It'll give my mum a right shock, at least."
"Wait. Wait! You're not going home, are you? You're all right now! You can come with me!"
Donna reaches up and pats the Doctor on the chest. Her jacket sleeve slides up her arm. "Oh dear. I thought you knew what you were doing when you sent the other half of me to stay with Rose."
He looks down at her, thoroughly confused. "I left him with her to get better. She helped me so much, and I thought..."
"Oh, you idiot. Listen. What is time?"
"Time is change." He reels off the answer like a schoolboy.
"There's no place for three of us, all the same." She screws up her face. "Really, I don't think the universe would put up with it! We have to change."
"I can change!"
"Yes, you can. You do. But two of us, changing in just the same way? That's stagnation, not change, and that's why you had to leave the other Doctor with Rose. I see how you look at Jack."
"It's not his fault."
"No. But I won't become your fixed point. I need..." She looks down at herself. "I need to grow!" Donna gathers her clothing around herself and walks to the door. "Visit me sometimes?"
"But Donna! We can travel to so many places! See so many things?"
She looks back over her shoulder for a moment, her grin blinding. "Maybe I'll build myself a TARDIS, one of these days. See you in the stars!"
The blue door closes behind her, and the afternoon is sunny, the park teeming with life. Donna pulls her phone from her pocket, her tiny fingers nimble on the buttons.
"Mum? You're never going to believe this!"
Title: Straight Lines
Characters: Donna, the Doctor
Rating: G
Wordcount: about 900
Spoilers for: Journey's End
Given that Catherine Tate would not stay, how to end Donna's story? An alternate conclusion to Journey's End.
When the Doctor walks back into the TARDIS, his steps hesitant and his face set in that annoying mixture of stern and sorry, Donna knows what he wants to say. She can feel the explosions in her brain, tiny suns flaring and going dark forever. She isolates huge sections – chronosense, hyperspatial awareness, even the connection with the TARDIS – but it's not going to be enough. And her mouth won't stop moving, chattering, repeating, stuttering.
He moves towards her, deadly hands outstretched and the sparkle of broken glass catches her eye, from the shards of the container that held the Doctor's severed hand.
"Oi! Stop!" she roars, her own volume making her certain. "Twenty-four hours. It's the first twenty-four hours, you idiot."
He looks down at his hands, then shoves them into his pockets, nonchalant. "Oh. Yeah, I knew that." He frowns. "But you can't regenerate. You're still human, Donna."
"It's not a regeneration. It's remodelling. You grew a new hand, I need – need – need – need –" it takes a moment to break free of the loop, "–to grow a new brain." The Doctor raises an eyebrow and Donna scowls at him. "Well, a new shape of brain."
"I hope you're not going to run in front of a van again."
"It didn't hurt that much." Seeing the Doctor's horrified expression, Donna punches him in the arm and grinned. "Don't be daft. You're the one who said I can't actually regenerate. Just let my brain run down and..." Donna collapsed onto the TARDIS console. The Doctor catches her as she slides towards the floor, in time to ease her down gently. He paces for a moment, as she lies entirely still, then pulls off his jacket and folds it beneath her head. The regenerative energy is already beginning to glow behind her eyelids and in her hair.
He walks around her, nervous energy sparking and twitching, while Donna's face begins to shine so brightly that he can see the shape of her skull beneath. He paces around the console, still warm from the touch of so many loving hands, and it's not until he's made it all the way around for the third time that he realises that something is wrong. It's not just Donna's head that is glowing now – her whole body is pulsing with light. Her eyes are open, now, and calm, but her body is unstuck from time, the delicate linearity of her human lifetime torn apart, beads falling from a string and scattering on the floor.
Donna sits up straight, the golden energies twinkling into nothing. "That wasn't so-" She stops abruptly at the sound of her own voice, and at the Doctor's astonished stare. She scrambles to her feet, clutching at her suddenly oversized clothes, and draws herself up to her full height of four feet, four inches. "And don't you dare laugh, mate!"
Donna looks about eight years old.
"I'm not laughing!" Indeed, the Doctor looks deeply shocked. "I thought it was just going to heal your brain."
Donna wriggles out of her stockings and cinches her belt in a vain attempt to keep her grey tunic – now a floor-length dress – in place. "You know? I think that's exactly what it did." She clears her throat, trying to lower her pitch a little. "I didn't need a bigger brain. I needed a more elastic brain, and an adult brain wasn't going to cope."
"Oh! Of course!" The Doctor grins, his excitement returning in a great and unstoppable wave. "So much energy taken up by that bendy little mind in there that there wasn't enough left to maintain an adult body! But you'll grow up with it, this time, and it will all grow with you! All your energy and my knowledge, bound together properly, not struggling to fit. Brilliant!"
Donna lets out such a tremendous sigh that it ruffles her fringe. "I suppose it'll be worth it. It'll give my mum a right shock, at least."
"Wait. Wait! You're not going home, are you? You're all right now! You can come with me!"
Donna reaches up and pats the Doctor on the chest. Her jacket sleeve slides up her arm. "Oh dear. I thought you knew what you were doing when you sent the other half of me to stay with Rose."
He looks down at her, thoroughly confused. "I left him with her to get better. She helped me so much, and I thought..."
"Oh, you idiot. Listen. What is time?"
"Time is change." He reels off the answer like a schoolboy.
"There's no place for three of us, all the same." She screws up her face. "Really, I don't think the universe would put up with it! We have to change."
"I can change!"
"Yes, you can. You do. But two of us, changing in just the same way? That's stagnation, not change, and that's why you had to leave the other Doctor with Rose. I see how you look at Jack."
"It's not his fault."
"No. But I won't become your fixed point. I need..." She looks down at herself. "I need to grow!" Donna gathers her clothing around herself and walks to the door. "Visit me sometimes?"
"But Donna! We can travel to so many places! See so many things?"
She looks back over her shoulder for a moment, her grin blinding. "Maybe I'll build myself a TARDIS, one of these days. See you in the stars!"
The blue door closes behind her, and the afternoon is sunny, the park teeming with life. Donna pulls her phone from her pocket, her tiny fingers nimble on the buttons.
"Mum? You're never going to believe this!"