Title: I Didn't Ask For This

Rating: T

Summary: The Doctor has been a father before, and he lost everything. Given a second chance, he lost that too. Now, he is unexpectedly offered the chance at redemption in the most unexpected way.

Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all trademarks pertaining to it are the property of the BBC and all parties involved. The author of this fanfiction claims no ownership and writes this purely for the entertainment of herself and others. No money is being made off this and no copy-right infringement is intended.

~*~

Prologue:

The night air was chilly, but the weight settling on his heart was colder.

The Doctor, hands in his pockets, stepped out of Donna Noble's home, towards the street corner where his TARDIS was parked, sadness etched upon his face and eyes fixed upon the ground. Sighing, he turned to face the man standing in the doorway behind him.

"You take care of her," the Doctor said, a sad half-smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Be sure I will," her grandfather replied. His face showed the regret he also felt at the prospect of the man his daughter adored like the weird alien brother she'd never had leaving her forever. Of course he understood the reasons, but it didn't make things any easier.

The Doctor turned away and walked a few steps, before spinning on his heel to face the old man again. "Listen... do you have a cell phone?"

Puzzled, Wilfred dug in his pocket and handed over the simple Nokia. "Donna made me get one ages ago... but I don't much have time for these things."

The Doctor took the phone in one hand and pulled out his sonic screwdriver with the other. Changing the setting with barely a flick of his thumb, he concentrated on modifying the phone's battery, as he had done for his companions. "If there's ever an emergency... if anything weird happens or... or if she starts to remember... call me."

"You don't exactly travel within the local networks," Wilfred pointed out.

The Doctor shrugged. "Modified it a bit. You'll also find it now plays MP3s and picks up every radio signal within a five-thousand mile radius. Might be useful to you," he smiled and handed the phone back.

"Thank you," the old man said sincerely, and for a moment the two stood in a silence that grew more awkward with each passing second, crickets chirping around them unseen.

"Well," the Doctor said with a jovialness he did not feel, sticking his hands in his trouser pockets, "I better be off..."

"Yes, of course, Doctor," Wilfred replied. "And thank you."

A hint of deep sadness appeared in the Doctor's eyes and he shook his head. "You have nothing to thank me for," he said. With that, he turned and strode off to his TARDIS without looking back.

~*~

The TARDIS had never seemed so big, so empty. In the months that had passed since his farewell to Donna (not that she remembered him), he had steadfastly refused to allow anyone else to share his space and his life. It was, to his memory, one of the longest times he had gone without a companion – even during the Time War he had always had people around him, always been in contact with someone. The Time War ended, he regenerated and off he went, straight back to Earth to pick up a new companion... and look where that got him: the woman he loved living on another world with a man who was him and yet so unbelievable not him that he wanted to break something.

In his mind he resigned himself to however-many lifetimes of loneliness. He couldn't face losing any more people. He couldn't face more death. Part of him wanted to go into hiding, become a hermit, maybe even use the Chameleon Arch to convert to another species on a little backwater planet to live out the rest of his days.

The rest of him told that part not to be so stupid.

Still, it was a lonely existence. Often he found himself talking to thin air, babbling excitedly to everyone around him, only to realise that the only one listening was his TARDIS, and she wasn't much of a conversationalist despite being very clever in her own right.

For instance, she knew he needed, craved companionship that she couldn't give him. She just didn't know how to convince him.

They drifted slowly, man and ship, through the Time Vortex to places unknown and unplanned. Eventually they came out in the middle of a bright, beautiful nebula, young stars bursting into life all around them. And it was at this point that the telephone rang.

Jolted from a reverie about nothing in particular, the Doctor darted around the consol and hovered his hand over the receiver. It rang again. He picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Doctor! Is that you?" It was a man's voice, hushed and hurried down the line.

"Yes... who is this?"

"It's Wilfred Mott, Donna's granddad... I need to talk to you, it's urgent. Can you come?"

Icy coldness dribbled horribly through the Doctor' core. Donna... had she started remembering?

"What's the time?" he demanded.

"Huh?" the old man replied, momentarily puzzled.

"Wilf, right now I'm drifting through the outskirts of a galaxy somewhere near the middle of the universe in the year nine-hundred billion. I need your exact date and time."

"Oh," Wilfred said, and told him.

"I'll be right there," he said, spinning and banging in the co-ordinates, beginning the bumpy navigation back to his favourite place in the universe: planet Earth. And, indeed, he was right there, barely minutes after the phone call for Wilfred, but several long and agonising hours for himself as he worried himself sick over various scenarios he imagined waited for him.

He materialised atop Wilfred's hill. The midnight sky was clear, the air crisp. The old man stood near his telescope, holding what looked like a pile of blankets, no doubt to keep warm on this autumn night.

The Doctor didn't bother with pleasantries as he opened the door. "What's wrong? Is it Donna?" he demanded.

Wilfred nodded, then looked rather uncertain. "Well... it's her... but... it's complicated."

"Complicated? Complicated how?" the Time Lord asked.

Wordlessly, Wilfred handed over the bundle of blankets. The Doctor took them, puzzled. Then, as he felt the weight, his eyes widened and he looked at it properly, pulling aside layers with one hand to reveal a tiny, sleeping face.

"What... what...?" the Doctor began.

"He's a baby." Wilfred said.

"Yes, I can see that," the Time Lord replied drily.

"He's Donna's. Born last week."

That was news. "So... so Donna found herself a bloke then?" He was almost hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, she had found some happiness.

But no. Wilfred shook his head. "Think of the date, Doctor. It's been nine months since you left her here. She was pregnant then."

If the Doctor's eyes hadn't been secured firmly inside his skull, they would have fallen out. No... no way... unless... Jack? Did she sleep with him? I wouldn't put it past him, the flirtatious git...

"Are... are you sure? I mean... she didn't go out after I brought her back...?"

"No. I was too worried about her, wasn't I? Didn't let her out of my sight for about two months... and that's about the time we realised that Fred was on the way."

"Fred?"

"That's his name, the baby. Fred John Noble."

Warning bells sounded in the Doctor's Head. "John?"

"I know, it's such a common name," Wilfred said, "I understand her naming him Fred, after me, but when I asked her about it she just said that his middle name had to be John, but couldn't tell me why." The old man looked a bit uncomfortable. "Listen... he's... is he yours? The baby?"

"What? No, no... no, couldn't be. Donna and I... we didn't have anything like that... I loved her, dearly, as a friend but... there was never anything like that between us. He can't be mine. Fred."

If anything, Wilfred looked even more uncomfortable. "It's just that... I don't think he's human."

The Doctor frowned. "Why not?"

"He's got two hearts."

Shock punched solidly through the Doctor and he nearly dropped the sleeping baby. "Two... two..."

"Hearts." Wilfred finished. "The doctors figure he had a Siamese twin that didn't develop... didn't think he'd make it through the night he was born. Then they realised that his circulatory system is working perfectly and he's healthy as can be... doctors wanted to run all sorts of tests on him when they found out... we got out of it 'cause I claimed religious reasons. I figured if he was part alien they'd take him away, and even if he is an alien he'd still my great-grandson; don't want strangers poking him about."

The Doctor was barely listening to all this. Two hearts. Two hearts. In all her travels with him, Donna had only spent time with one being with two hearts, but there was no way the baby was his. He looked down at the tiny little face again, barely visible through all the blankets. No way. "I'm sorry Wilfred... I'm really not sure who the father is... but I could run some tests..."

"You'll have all the time in the world to do that. He's going with you."

"What? What? No. No, no, no..."

"Doctor please," the old man pleaded. "Since Fred was born, Donna... Doctor, she's started remembering."

Not for the first time tonight, the Doctor felt a chill run through him. "Remembering?"

"Not consciously... but the night he was born, she called out your name, and it was obvious she meant you and not one of the paediatricians. Since then, she's been having nightmares, calling out all sorts of things... she's been running a fever for the past two days. That's why I called. The baby is making her remember."

"But... he..."

"Sylvia thinks Donna was seduced and dumped and that she's subconsciously dealing with it, but I know better. The baby has to go with you." Wilfred sighed, and reached out to stroke the little cheek. "I don't want to give him up, but he can't be put up for adoption here on Earth with two hearts, the government will take him apart, and then they'll take Donna apart."

Despite his protests, the Doctor had to agree to that.

"And besides, Doctor... whether you're his father or not, however Fred came to be, I'd rather he was with you. He's safe with you."

The Time Lord shook his head. "No, no, that's just it, he's not safe. Not with me!" He looked almost panicked. "Travelling with me is dangerous, look what happened to Donna, look what happened to you! And remember the Earth being stolen? The Daleks did that to get to me! People travel with me and they just end up getting hurt. I lose them, every single one."

Wilfred simply looked at him. "Well, you're just going to have to be more careful then," he said. And with that, he turned away and began to slowly walk back down the hill. "You take care of my great-grandson, Doctor. You take care."

The Doctor, speechless, could only stare after him. "But..." He looked down at the sleeping baby again. "But... I've nowhere for him to sleep!" he called after the old man.

"I left his carry-car-seat there for you," Wilfred called back, without looking at him.

True enough, barely a meter from the TARDIS was a baby carrier and a bulging nappy bag.

"But..." the Doctor protested weakly. There was no one around to hear him. He laid the baby, still sleeping, in the carrier. He picked it up, with the bag and went inside, depositing both on the floor near the consol.

"What the hell...?" he muttered to himself.

~*~