I was not there... Then, suddenly, I was. I felt cold and hot and pain all over. Like I was being formed from nothing. I must've been formed from something, but how would I know?
Then I felt warm, tingling, then it stopped. I opened my eyes and sat up abruptly.
Faces and names and places and planes came to be in my mind. Memories are formed as my neurons form a line. Ordering themselves, brain on fire, the situation too dire.
Says a strange woman. Did I say strange? No, I meant Donna Noble.
This odd place seems to be exploding. This odd place? No, the TARDIS seems to be dying.
Reaching out, pressing a button. Emergency dematerialisation.
A new suit. A blue suit. For a new Doctor.
A new way of thinking for a new order.
Why can't she believe what I've told her?
When it comes to importance there is no other.
Tell me what can possibly be greater?
This mind, reign it in, it feels much older. Much older than it really should be.
Good as new!
You're like worms!
Worms? How can I be like a worm? That's a myth. When you cut a worm in half, only half of it lives. Depends on which half has all the major organs. The other bit just wiggle and dies. Natural defense. Although, if you cut a worm in half, and you cut it to close to its heart, both halves die anyways.
I've only got one heart!
I'm that half missing all the important bits. I'll wiggle around for a short while, and then I'll die. The other half will keep on living. Hiding in the dirt like a coward. Come up and out, into the garden, that's where the roses grow. The Rose.
I got the best part, I got his mind.
Oh, so we cut the metaphorical worm into thirds. Except this piece is small. It'll wiggle about even less. Still, the DoctorDonna is impressive. Wham! Like Dalek-B-Gone.
Oh, wait. That's me.
Maybe we should wait for the Doctor.
I am the Doctor!
That cold, cold beach. It shouldn't feel so cold, but it does. That's the dying end of the worm for you. Missing all the important bits. No internal temperature regulation, no respiratory bypass, only one heart.
I've only got one life. I could spend it with you, Rose Tyler, if you want.
The critical moment. It all comes down to this. Saying what needs to be said.
Will he do it? Can he do it? If he does say it, it will change everything. For the better. Timelines are fading from me, but that one so bright. Say it, Doctor in brown. Poke your earthen head from the soil.
I see it, I see a timeline in which he says those three words, in which he finally lets Rose in, and we all go. We all go home. Rose, Jackie, Pete, Me, DoctorDonna. Everyone, home if they want. I see it, when we solve the problem of Donna's failing mind together. The three of us and our family can solve it so quickly, an hour at most. It may hurt, but it would be worth it, so worth it. She could stay aboard the TARDIS. We could live together, stay a family. Jackie and Pete back on Earth with Mickey the not-an-idiot-anymore, with Martha, with Jack and Wilf and everyone. Donna and Rose and the pinstripes, blue and brown, all of time and space, every star that ever was. We could go anywhere, anywhen.
Does it need saying?
A monumental shift. The glorious timeline, shining in gold. Gone, gone forever.
It needs to be said. I go out on a limb. I can't see any timelines anymore, but I'm willing to risk everything.
My one heart. I give it to you, only you. I lean close, and whisper the words. Words meant only for her.
I love you.