Title: Impossible Things

Author: Mindy

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Characters are the property of RTD and BBC etc. Definitely not mine.

Spoilers: Lots. "The Christmas Invasion", "Human Nature", "Family of Blood", "Runaway Bride", "Sontaren Stratagem", "Silence in the Library", "Forest of the Dead", "Journey's End", "The Next Doctor".

Warnings: Character death.

Summary: Ten/Donna, Donna/Martha friendship. Martha calls the Doctor back to Earth to help Donna.

A/N: This is my first attempt at a full story in this fandom, any feedback is appreciated.

I.

He was alone when the phone rang. Striding slowly over to where his jacket lay over the railing circling the engine room, he retrieved the trilling phone. He studied it for a moment before answering.

"Doctor?" came the familiar tone.

"Martha Jones," he announced, feebly attempting to sound like his old self.

Martha didn't appear fooled by his impression, her voice anxious and tight. "Martha Milligan, actually."

"Right," he nodded to himself: "Of course. Milligan -- Martha Milligan. Mrs Martha Milligan. Try saying that five times fast--"

"That's not why I called," she interrupted, the unease in her voice evident. "This is not a social call," she added, trying not to alarm him.

It had the opposite effect. He recalled very clearly the subject of their last conversation – the last great favour he had asked of her. His final words to his capable friend had been that, if the worst happened, she was to call him instantly.

"What can I do for you then," he asked, still attempting to preserve some facade of verve: "Doctor Milligan?"

Martha was silent a moment: "Doctor. I'm so sorry…"

"Martha--" he started, his voice sinking and mind racing: "Is something wrong?"

"Someone," Martha corrected, taking a shaky breath. "It's Donna."

His head tipped back towards the ceiling and his eyes closed over. The two words he'd dreaded – they seemed to echo around the empty space.

"Doctor?" Martha called from the other end of the line, her voice sounding very far away: "Am I breaking up? Doctor? Did you hear me, Doctor?"

The Doctor took a breath. "I'm on my way."

II.

Sylvia Noble didn't see him arrive, her head cradled tiredly in her hands. She sat alone in the brightly-lit hospital corridor, her clothes rumpled and an untouched cup of tea by her side.

"How is she?"

Donna's mother looked up, her face pinched with worry and her eyes red-rimmed. An abrupt veil fell over her face to conceal her shock, her expression toughened at the sight of him.

"You," was all she whispered, her gaze sharp and critical.

"How's Donna?" he asked again.

Sylvia cleared her throat, rising unsteadily to her feet.

He gestured for her stay seated: "Please--"

Sylvia stood anyway – all the better to denounce him he supposed. The Doctor sighed, searching her drawn face for any trace of the warmth that used to exude from her daughter.

"Well," she mused sourly: "The Doctor is in. Don't you just have a talent for turning up when everything's gone to hell?"

He tried to stay calm. "You've a right to be angry--"

"Don't tell me what I've a right to," she spat stiffly: "What are you doing here anyway? You said you'd never come back. You said she'd never remember--" Sylvia cut off, ducking her head as her lower lip quivered uncontrollably: "You said-- Doctor, you promised my daughter would be alright."

"I know," he sighed sadly: "I'm sorry. It's… complicated."

"Complicated," she huffed, dissatisfied. She took a deep breath, drawing up to her full height: "As far as I'm concerned, Doctor whoever-you-are, my daughter hasn't been the same since the day she met you, and Lord knows what she saw in you then. Can you honestly say none of this is your fault?"

"I can't," he replied quietly: "That's why I'm here."

"Oh? And what are you going to do?" she snapped scornfully: "The best doctors in this country have seen her and they haven't a bloody clue. You're not even a real doctor. She told me, she babbles all the time. You don't have a degree, you don't have anything--"

"I have her!" the Doctor interrupted fiercely. His eyes fixed her with a determined, almighty stare: "And I'm not going to loose her again."

"Look at you!" she fumed, her tone haughtily, her eyes narrowed to pin-pricks: "The big hero, eh?" She averted her eyes from his intense gaze, her voice loosing some strength as she admitted: "But you're too late this time, Doctor-- Donna's gone."

"Gone?" he demanded, his heart in his throat: "What do you mean, gone?"

"My daughter doesn't exist now," she continued, her facade wavering: "Nothing's left but…stories. Just like her grandad."

A different voice interrupted: "Doctor."

The Doctor's head whipped around to see Martha standing at the other end of the corridor, in her white coat, outside a set of unmarked white doors. Her hands were in her pockets, her expression grave.

She smiled cautiously: "She's through here."

The Doctor took one last look at the face of Sylvia Noble then turned towards the doors. He was halfway down the hall when Donna's mother called his name. He turned, his brow furrowed as he faced her again.

"How do I know," she asked him, her tone curt but not malicious: "that you seeing her again won't do her more harm than good?"

"You don't," the Doctor told her stoically: "But frankly Mrs Noble, I'm Donna's last chance. And if there is any way in this world that I can keep her alive, I will find it." He took a step closer, his voice lowering but his gaze loosing none of its intensity. "Because, whatever you think of me, I care about your daughter. A great deal. More than she ever knew and more than you can imagine." He took another step towards her, his arm pointing beyond the white doors. "That woman saved me," he continued, jaw set: "Repeatedly. Now, it's my turn to return the favour, with or without your consent."

He turned on his heel, striding down the corridor towards Martha -- and Donna -- but Sylvia's voice stopped him one last time.

"You have it, Doctor," she called, her voice shaky yet determined: "for whatever it's worth. Because my daughter trusted you."

"Yes," he replied firmly: "She did."

"And she was never stupid, my Donna," Sylvia added softly, her fingers knitted together tightly: "My guess is she had good reason."

The Doctor nodded: "Thank you," then pushed through the white doors with Martha at his side.

TBC…