Nothing Is Ever Forgotten

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Doctor Who

Copyright: BBC

Donna Temple disliked weddings.

It was something she could not explain. If anyone had asked, she would simply brush them off by reminding them she'd been an old maid for much too long, or that her first fiançé, Lance, had jilted her at the altar, but it was more than that. The sight of a white wedding dress made her wince. Standing inside a church made her tense up like a bowstring, expecting to – what? Disappear? Hearing the "I do" at the end of the ceremony filled her with a nameless fear. She'd been married to Sean at a courthouse, in a blue cocktail dress, just to avoid the memories. Which was why, sitting at the family table at the wedding reception of her niece Amy Pond, Donna breathed a silent sigh of relief that the worst was over.

Almost. Watching the young woman between her father and her bridegroom made Donna uneasy. That white dress, and the tiara on top of her fiery hair, brought out the family resemblance in a way that was positively uncanny. Something terrible had happened to Donna while wearing an almost identical dress, and she had a sudden, crazy urge to grab Amy and usher her away from all these people, somewhere safe – Oh, would you shut up? she scolded herself, tossing down a glass of champagne. The only terrible thing was that bastard cheating on me –

- with a black-eyed, eight-legged, carnivorous spider empress –

- with a black-eyed slut on our wedding day. That Rory Williams is a good fellow and obviously worships the ground she walks on. It won't happen.

She had been having trouble lately, separating her dreams from her reality. For a moment, when she'd first received the wedding invitation, she'd actually forgotten who the Ponds were – and then laughed at herself, reaching for the coffeepot and blaming it on the early hours of the morning. How could she forget Lily, her perfect, annoying older sister, who was sitting right next to her now looking like a member of the Royal Family with that prim little hat and veil? Or Fergus, Lily's Scottish husband, looking much rounder and balder than twenty years ago as he stood up to make a no-doubt-very-kitschy speech?

Or Amy herself, standing up abruptly and cutting him off with a brusque, "Shut up. I'm sorry, Dad, but … shut up."

The mood in the reception hall shifted. It was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. Amy looked down something on the table in front of her – something blue, a very familiar shade of blue.

"When I was a kid," she said softly, "I had an imaginary friend. The Raggedy Doctor … my Raggedy Doctor. But he wasn't imaginary. He was real."

Not this again! was the feeling from every family member in the room. The brigegroom looked positively green. Lily and Sylvia shook their heads in familiar exasperation, the same gesture they had once used when urging Donna to 'get a proper job'. Donna remembered the child Amelia sobbing on the phone – Tell them, Aunt Donna! Tell them I'm not crazy! – and her own weary reply: I'll try, sweetheart, but my word doesn't count for much with those two.

After her fourth psychiatrist, Amelia had changed her name to Amy and developed a harshly skeptical attitude about time travel, imaginary friends, and all the other wonderful things she had once believed in. She'd even taken to snubbing Donna just as her mother and grandmother did: Mum says if I don't get my life together, I'll end up just like you. Her attitude had rather softened over the past two years, especially when Donna's 'wasted potential' had finally been realized as a travel journalist and science fiction writer. However, none of them had had the faintest idea that she would ever bring up the Raggedy Doctor again, especially on her wedding day!

Grandfather was smiling mysteriously in his corner. She could just imagine him muttering one of his favorite quotes: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophy.

Doctor. The title, combined with the particular bright blue of that diary and the deep affection in Amy's voice, struck a chord in Donna that left her holding her breath..

"I remember you.," Amy continued. "I remember! I brought the others back, I can bring you home too. Raggedy Man, I remember you and you are late for my wedding!"

She snarled the last words with true Noble ferocity, leaning forward on the table, her whole slender body vibrating with proud determination.

I'm late for my wedding! Donna remembered shouting at – someone. Someone so important … Wherever she looked, the pieces were falling into place. Uncle John in a blue pinstriped suit. Cousin Jenny's new boyfriend, who'd spiked his brown hair to gravity-defying levels. Little Cal with the widest, darkest brown eyes she'd ever seen. Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams herself, spinning a monologue with shining eyes, working up to the final revelation for an audience struggling to keep up.

"I found you! I found you with words, like you knew I would. That's why you told me the story – the brand new, ancient, blue box. Oh clever, very clever!"

A blue box. A time machine. With an ancient, boyish, madly lovable pilot. Shouting matches, laughter, deadly peril and post-universe-saving hugs. The fires of Pompeii. The achingly beautiful song of the Ood. A golden-haired soldier with a red stain blooming on her uniform shirt. A planetwide library with a child's soul at its heart. A frizzy-haired archaeologist with a wicked smile and kind eyes.

The day the Doctor Donna saved the universe. The day her dearest memories were erased by the man who made them possible. He'd meant to save her, but she hadn't been truly saved until today. Glancing toward Wilf, she saw her own and Amy's look of wonder reflected in his aged face.

Oh, Amelia … Gramps … I always knew we were the same. How could we forget? How could we possibly forget the Doctor?

"Something old," Amy recited, tears of joy running down her beautiful face. "Something new … something borrowed …something blue."

A wind rustled her dress, pulled on Lily's veil and blew Donna's fringe into her face. A loud whirr-churn-whirr began to sound, with the occasional clank or clatter, as that all-important something slowly flickered into being in the middle of the room. It was the TARDIS, and it was opening, and there he stood – a stranger, but as familiar to Donna as her own skin. His hair flopped instead of spiking, his eyes were a bright electric blue, and he had a perfect Grecian nose this time instead of the hatchet he'd had before. However, certain things would never change – that smirk, and that twinkle in his eyes, and who else would combine an untied white silk scarf with a tuxedo and a top hat?

He looked ridiculous. He looked adorable. He looked himself.

"Hello," said the Doctor. "I'm Amy's imaginary friend. I've come back."

Amy ran to him, followed closely by Rory (Rory? Donna was distracted by a moment of surprise, as the steady young nurse had never seemed like the adventurous type), to greet the Doctor enthusiastically. He evaded Amy's kiss, shook hands with Rory, and beamed triumphantly all around.

Donna scrambled to her feet, noting with dismay that her legs were trembling.

"Donna!" Lily hissed, putting a restraining hand on her sister's arm. "Do you know this person?"

"Know him?" Donna chuckled weakly. "Lils, you have no idea … now would you please let go of me so I can give that man what he deserves?"

Lily, wide-eyed, obeyed her little sister's order for the first time in their lives.

Donna gestured to Wilf, and together they marched right up to the reunion taking place in the middle of the room. The looks on the three friends' faces might have been comical at any other moment: Amy open-mouthed with shock, Rory smiling crookedly in a that-explains-a-lot way as he glanced from one redhead to the other, and the Doctor's new face brimful of passionate, conflicting emotions. Astonishment. Shame. A plea for forgiveness at what he had done. And finally, unabashed delight.

Followed by astonishment again when Donna slapped him hard across the face.

"That's for taking my memories, you arrogant, self-righteous Martian! A whole year together and I never knew!"

"Donna – " the Doctor began, raising one hand placatingly as the other flew to his red cheek.

"He did what?" said Amy, curiosity mingled with indignation.

"And this," Donna continued, throwing her arms around him and squeezing tight, "Is for coming back. Blimey, you've grown," she added, apropos of nothing, as her nose collided with his white bow tie and scarf.

Tall or not, the way her best friend in the universe wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off her feet and spun her around was gloriously familiar.

"Good on you, Aunt Donna!" Amy cheered, hugging both of them and bouncing up and down with a reckless disregard of her high-heeled shoes. "Doctor, you numpty, how come you never told me you traveled with my aunt?"

"Cause I didn't know you were related, obviously," said the Doctor, grinning like a tuxedoed sunbeam. "When that crack in your wall erased your parents, it must have also erased a few family connections. Really though, I might have known. Good Lord," looking between them in pretended dismay, "Two bossy gingers. You'll be the death of me."

"Oi!" Amy and Donna chorused in unison, caught each other's eye, and giggled.

A rusty masculine laugh behind them caught their attention: it was Wilf, waiting patiently for his turn at being noticed.

"Wilfred Mott, is that you? Fantastic!" The Doctor, lighting up a little more, extracted himself from Amy and Donna's hold in order to give the old soldier a sharp salute and a vigorous handshake.

"Welcome back, Doctor," said Wilf. "It's wonderful to see you."

And really, what else was there to say?

/

Later that day, at the edge of the dance floor, in the middle of a hurricane of explanations, theories and catching-up talks, Amy turned around to face Donna, her gray-green eyes still wet with tears.

"I always knew you were cool," she said in a private undertone, with a little laugh. "But not this cool!"

"Just 'wasting my potential', eh?" Donna replied, quoting Lily and Sylvia, then shook her head. "See, I did have a job. Only I couldn't write 'Doctor's Companion' on my tax files, now could I?"

"I know the feeling. Oh, Aunt Donna," taking both the older woman's hands, "I'm sorry about what I said. About not wanting to end up like you and all. I hope I do!"

"That's all right, love." Donna felt a certain icy patch in her heart melting away at this apology from a young relation who'd been distant for so many years. "We're both Nobles, aren't we?"

"Course we are. And you will come with us, won't you?"

Donna glanced at the Doctor, still deep in talk with Wilf and Rory. "Really? You sure you don't mind an old biddy like me tagging along on your honeymoon?"

"You're not old," Amy said eagerly. "And it'll be perfect. You can stay with the Doctor while me and Rory, ah, explore. He gets so lonely sometimes, y'know? He needs someone to look after him. Right, Doctor?" she called over her shoulder. "Aunt Donna's coming with us, yeah?"

"If she wants," said the Doctor, with a shrug. "It's her decision. What do you say, Donna Noble? Care for another round?"

Find someone, Donna remembered telling him, standing on a snowy street in her wedding dress. She thought of her husband Sean, who would sit in their empty house with his coffee and newspaper, wondering where she had gone. She thought of Wilf, watching the stars through his old telescope, without his girls to understand and sympathize. She even thought of her mother and sister, annoying as they were.

"It's Donna Temple, remember?" she said, showing her wedding ring. "And … I'm sorry. The answer's no."

Disappointment colored the Doctor's strange blue eyes.

"I've got our year back, don't I?" she said, trying not to cry again at the vividness of her restored memories. "One impossibly brilliant year travelling in time and space with you. It's more than most people get, and now that you've figured out it won't kill me, I'm totally keeping it."

The Doctor nodded. "I understand."

"But call me, all right?" she said, turning a stern look on the Doctor, Amy and Rory in turn. "All three of you. Let me know what's going on out there, and warn me if there's another alien prime minister or living plastic or … "

"I promise," said Amy.

The Doctor handed her his psychic paper, which contained two telephone numbers for Donna to type into her mobile phone. "One's the new TARDIS number," he explained "She exploded and had to repair herself – long story – anyway, the second one belongs to the Smiths. Mickey and Martha, freelance alien hunters. If you feel nostalgic, you could always join them."

"Thank you." Donna had liked Martha in the brief time they'd met; catching up with her would be interesting.

"And before we go, Donna … " He swept the top hat off his head and bowed to her. "Will you do me the honor of the next dance?"

Donna snorted – he was as dramatic as ever. "Don't mind if I do, Spaceman," she said, grabbing his hand and towing him off to the middle of the floor.

It was a fast song, and the two of them took advantage of it with every ounce of energy they could spare. They pumped their arms, spun around like tops, bumped hips and bounced up and down. Donna swung her ponytail like a head-banging punk. the Doctor flapped his arms like a chicken. Amy's giggles reached them all the way across the floor. They knew they looked like idiots and they couldn't care less. One more beat, one more line, one more stanza. One more look into the laughing eyes of your dearest friend, before the end of a song and the end of an era with it. One more moment, this time never to be forgotten.