The Fool On Mott Hill (Doctor Who)

Chapter 3

Donna remembered those dark times – zoning out in midday, constantly feeling knackered. She visited psychiatrists and insisted that she'd forgotten a huge chunk of her life. That it was sucked into a big black hole of nothing. But if she looked really hard, she could see the outlines of her past and any little reminders in the real world sent her mind in that burning state. Once she chatted with another patient. A beautiful Ginger-haired Scottish teen named Amelia. She swore up and down that she once had a friend called "The Raggedy Doctor." At the time it sounded like a horror movie to Donna – giant eyeballs, A Prisoner named Zero escaping through inter-dimensional cracks, crashing police boxes with swimming pools in the library.

But nobody else remembered any eyeball invasions or Prisoner Zero escaping so Donna let the matter drop as usual. The one time she didn't sleep through it.

Donna had left that waiting room with a piping hot headache again.

"The Raggedy Doctor...was that you, bowtie boy? Sure sounds like it." Donna murmured.

There was no evidence of any life for Donna other than the boring one she led, temping away all over London and alphabetizing dusty files. Meeting Shaun Temple did wonders for her. But the "What ifs?" plagued her all the time.

"I knew Donna was in a depression. My Sylvie wanted to murder you herself. Said it was all your fault her daughter became a loon." Wilfred pointed out.

The Doctor chuckled. "Mothers. I always get on their bad side. I really don't know why."

"I don't think I have enough time left to answer that one!" Wilfred teased. "You'd like Shaun, Doctor. He's just the man Donna needs to let her be herself."

"So he's deaf and mute, then?" The Doctor joked. "My loud and vivacious, Donna Noble. Does Shaun happen to have a stutter?"

"Blimey, you nailed it! Naw, he doesn't, errr...'cept maybe when she's givin' him the business. He becomes a magician with 'is dissapearin' act!"

Wilfred laughed and started choking. The Doctor gave him water. He looked up to let out of a puff of air and Donna saw grief cloud his eyes. He forced another smile, even though his mental countdown to Wilfred's death began.

Donna cried as they bantered on. She hadn't seen her Granddad this happy in years. Normally she'd be furious if some bloke gossiped about her. But Wilfred merely laughed and agreed with the Doctor about her fiery, but ultimately lovable "space cadet" personality.

"Oi! You lot, havin' a jolly, spiffin' time talkin' 'bout me, huh? And you're all mouth, no trousers, Spaceman!" Donna grumbled. "Spaceman. That's the perfect name for ya."

Despite his light jesting, the Doctor spoke of her, a mere "Temp from Chiswick" with such reverence and love, that her heart swelled to bursting. Donna's resolve crumbled.

"Doctor, I wish... I really, really wish you could just see me."

~~Oo~~

The Doctor's head shot up, and for a brief moment their eyes met. Donna stepped closer into the light. Had he sensed her there all along? She closed her eyes and swore she heard his voice in the recesses of her mind.

"You're always near to me, Donna Noble."

Their contact broke and he carried on with Wilfred as if she were never there.

Emboldened, Donna ran and knelt in front of him. She finally saw the man up close without fearful reservations, force fields, or an alcohol induced haze.

"You truly are beautiful, Doctor." She whispered. "My happy-go-lucky bowtie boy. Whatta face!" She rested her head in her arms at the foot of the bed and simply stared up at him.

His haunted, intelligent eyes carried a deep-rooted fire and had no doubt "been in the wars," as her mother always said about Wilfred. "Those are the same eyes as before, aren't they?" She murmured.

"Doctor, promise me...even if ya don't ever return... swear you'll never forget 'bout our precious Donna." Wilfred stammered.

The Doctor's solemn gaze tugged at Donna's heartstrings. "I never will, she's forever my best mate. Nor will I forget you, Wilfred Mott."

Donna's heartbeat quickened. How can they be best mates when she'd just met him tonight? The feelings she had in the pub made sense now, and all her crazy visions before.

"Was I really your companion once? Me? You...you chose me?" She marveled.

Wilfred clutched the Doctor's hand, but his grip weakened. "Carry on, Sir. The universe needs you. It will always need you no matter who you are. And Gallifrey...you saved 'em, now bring 'em back. Like only you can, Doctor."

"I'll never give up. Now I have hope." The Doctor tightened his hold on Wilfred's limp hand.

"So, where are ya off to now?"

"I'm sure wherever I go next will be cool. So cool!" His voice trembled. "You know me, Wilf. Always on the go, never really choosing a proper destination, always with the running."

"And the savin.' Don't you dare forget about that, Doctor. I don't care what Sylvie says, you always have a place here. If it won't mess up history too much you can pop back to my past and say hello from time to time. We can meet at the coffee shop and shoot the breeze. I'll know ya no matter what face you're wearin'. Just come and go in proper order, so I'll always remember yer visits."

The Doctor's attempt to keep a stiff upper lip failed and his tears spilled. He rested his head on Wilfred's chest and Donna choked back sobs as her grandfather stroked his hair. Wilfred scolded him for crying, but he couldn't stop his own tears. Donna thought the entire cabin would float away any moment between the three of them and their snuffling.

Wilfred struggled to sit up and he gave the Doctor a fatherly hug.

"I think this is it then, Doctor."

The Doctor clutched at his nightshirt. "I hate goodbyes, Wilfred."

"Then...you better come 'round and see me again while I'm still kickin'."

"Already taken care of." The Doctor smiled.

Wilfred's eyes lit up with a memory surge. "Doctor! That's amazin', never pegged you for a Scot! Suits ya right fine. Oh we really passed for father and son then, didn't we?..." Wilfred's voice faded in and out and the Doctor stared at him confused.

"Thanks for all the coffee. And the Olympics! And...it was beautiful seein' ya runnin' wit' the torch. That was my Doctor out there. Thanks for winkin' at me."

"Actually I winked at...Rose...wait, what? I did see you! I'm Scottish?"

Wilfred made a weak zipping motion on his lip. "Sorry, I forgot what she said...oh yeah...spoilers. But you young man, don't you dare die! Not yet. You...you just keep comin' back to us no matter what happens...and please, please take care of my Little John in the future."

Sweat broke out on Wilfred's forehead and his skin felt clammy. His pulse pounded. "Oh my Lord...I hope this don't hurt too..."

The fatal heart attack took hold of Wilfred. Donna stared helpless as her beloved Grandad's body stiffened. She cried out when his face twisted with agony and he pulled away and clutched his chest. The Doctor caught him fast before he teetered off the cot.

Donna wanted to shake the Doctor by his collar to do CPR, anything. She screamed out and fell to her knees.

"Help him! Please! What are you good for, Doctor!" She knew deep down it was the end.

The Doctor knew it too. Wilfred Mott's death this night was a fixed point in time.

"It's all right, Wilfred. Rest now, old friend. Here's a gift from the Ood, they'll sing you to sleep."

In a swift and gentle motion, he laid Wilfred on his back and rubbed his temples. Whatever the Doctor did, diminished the torment on Wilfred's face. His body slackened and he released a sigh. The corners of his mouth turned up in a final, peaceful slumber – just as Donna had found him in the morning. He was gone.