Just Wanna (Room) Mate || John S. and Donna [E7]
TAGGING: Donna Noble and John Smith
TIME FRAME: Evening, shortly after arriving on the Boat
LOCATION: Room 10
SUMMARY: “You’re not mating with me, sunshine.” Donna picks a room. John crashes the party. And there is gossip about the Doctor.
Donna was a little shaken after waking up on a ship. Or was it a boat? She honestly wasn't sure the difference. Either way, it wasn't the house she'd been living in and they were all afloat now with no sign of land in any direction, minus the spare tree top. Which suggested that the rain had continued to fall rapidly and now they were all floating above the endless woods of the Pocket. There were plenty of questions that needed answered, but going off the few faces she did see when she started to roam, everyone looked as confused as she did and the first thing she wanted to take care of was finding a place to sleep. Working quickly to reserve a bed would mean more to choose from. She wasn't sure how she would handle seasickness, so she tried to pick a side of the ship (boat?) that she thought might rock less -- a room in the middle. The door had a big ten on it, and she couldn't help but smirk slightly to herself as she went in, and immediately claimed her bed.
John had spent some time very quickly exploring the ship, after establishing that (a) everyone from the Pocket seemed to have been transported aboard, and (b) there wasn't very much in the way of an alternative unless one intended to swim forever. He located the TARDIR in the lowest deck, and decided that a top priority was finding a room that he could keep her in. He didn't trust the Doctor in his current mood, and the thought of sharing a room with Rose made his hearts ache. No, let Rose stay with the Doctor, or something. He didn't think he could face it. Then there was the possibility of sharing a room with Tosh, except that Rose was here, and honestly, that was a mess he didn't even want to get into right now. So when he saw Donna moving into room ten, he realised that he'd just found the perfect solution to his dilemma. Snagging the TARDIR (now disguised as a large treasure chest), and several other large suitcases, he thumped his way into the room and shot Donna a bright grin. "Hello!" he chirped. "I'm moving in, and--" he just couldn't resist adding, "--I just wanna mate."
Donna had barely sat down on the bed when someone else walked in the room, and she jumped slightly at the intrusion until she saw who it was and immediately relaxed. A grin spread across her face as she stood up, but then she was rolling her eyes at his comment about wanting a mate. "Well, you're certainly not mating with me, Sunshine," she smirked, with a pointed eyebrow raise at him as she crossed the room and grabbed hold of one of his suitcases before tossing it on the spare bed. "If you're staying in here with me, you get that bed. I've already claimed mine and grown attached to it... In the last two minutes."
John grinned broadly before dragging the treasure chest to a corner of the room with more care than he'd handled the suitcases, and sat down on her, swinging his legs. "Oh, that's fine. I hope you don't mind another roommate, by the way." He patted the treasure chest fondly. "Fortunately, she doesn't take up much space." Glancing around the room - which was really rather small - he sprang up to peer out of the tiny porthole, seeing nothing but water everywhere. "Well, this is comfy. At least it's stopped raining - though this boat could stand to be a lot bigger on the inside."
Donna sat back on the edge of her bed gingerly, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the treasure chest, grinning when she realized what it was. "Oh, that's brilliant. I think I like this look a lot better than the potted plant. Very clever," she mused before sitting up and following his gaze toward the little porthole in the wall that she'd quite frankly, been avoiding. She'd seen enough water to last a lifetime. "Ha! That would be nice. As of now, I'm not sure comfy is the word I'd use for this, but at least it's dry? And we can see. There's also that." She nodded, looking around the room with distaste, using a lot of effort to actually compliment it.
John didn't quite manage to stifle his laughter at the look of disaster on Donna's face. "We've been through worse," he said. "Getting locked up in a container full of red eyed Ood? Stuck in Pompeii on volcano day?" He nodded at her leg. "How's the leg, anyway? Wouldn't want you tripping around on it and hurting it again." Dropping into the bed, he sprawled out, tucking his arms behind his head. "You know... I never asked. How were your folks? Before you left and turned up here, I mean."
Donna wrinkled her nose, but she couldn't hide the somewhat fond smile either from the memories and shook her head. "I was going to point out that we at least had the TARDIS then, but at the time, we didn't think we'd make it back to her, so it's a moot point." She swung her leg off the side of the bed and glanced down at it. "It still feels weird, and gets a bit sore. Probably from lack of use more than anything. 'Least that's what Martha and Rory keep telling me. They insist I'm fine," there was a hint of disbelief in her tone, despite trusting each one of the medical professionals completely. She picked at the thin blanket covering the cot and shrugged. "They're doing alright. They always seemed a bit off at times when I'd fall ill, but now I think I understand." She didn't explain further, but pointed at her head, figuring he'd get the point. "I think my granddad misses you though."
John smiled with a twinge of sadness, thinking about the TARDIS. "Here," he said, jumping out of bed and pulling out his stethoscope in a bid to distract himself from that train of thought. "Let me see." Kneeling down beside the bed, he pressed the stethoscope to Donna's leg and had a listen. "Between the healing and the lack of use, the muscles are all stiff, yeah," he confirmed. "I could give you a massage if you like." Tucking the stethoscope back into his bigger on the inside pockets, he glanced up at her. "Good old Wilf," he said, with a smile. "Do you miss him?" He paused, then circled delicately around towards a topic that he'd been building up towards, "Do you miss home, for that matter?"
Donna raised an eyebrow at her friend when he approached her, but let him listen to her leg anyway. Both her eyebrows shot up when he offered to give her a massage, and while a massage actually sounded great, she shook her head. "Maybe later." Her expression softened as the conversation shifted back to home. "I do," she nodded. "Of course I do." She chewed on her bottom lip and looked out the small window in the room, her thoughts drifting back to what her family must be doing. She imagined her granddad sneaking treats into the car behind her mum's back as they spoke, going on about some sort of theory about the new government. She blinked herself back to the present and looked over at him, twisting her lips. "I miss them all the time.. And Shaun. But is it bad that I don't really miss that life?"
John stood, pacing around to the porthole. He was silent for a moment as Donna spoke, before half turning towards her with the ghost of a smile. "Sort of the way I felt about Gallifrey," he murmured. Turning his gaze back on the view outside, he let the smile drop off his face again. "I don't know how to get you home," he admitted bluntly, frustration leaking into his voice. "I don't know how to get anyone home."
Donna pressed her lips together into a something that could have been conceived as both a smile or a frown and tilted her head to the side because she should have known that he would get it. She couldn't help it when her face fell a bit though with his admission, but she immediately stood up to stand next to him and placed her hand on his arm. She didn't want to admit that she already suspected that the Doctors wouldn't be able to get them out of this. "It doesn't have to be all on you, you know?" She said instead and then she glanced back to the TARDIR in the room. "And maybe she will be of some help when she's full grown."
John hadn't meant for the conversation to go this way, but it was something that had been building for a while, and perhaps it was the fact that it was Donna - his best mate, the one who had helped him through innumerable bad patches - that forced the kind of honesty out of him that he normally went to great pains to avoid. "Isn't it?" he said, a little bitterly. "And now... now there's something wrong with the Doctor, and I think I know what it is, but I have no idea how to fix it." He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more than usual. "Donna, I--" he tried to hold back the outburst, but it slipped out anyway. "I'm stuck, and I hate being stuck." Immediately regretting it, he turned his attention on the TARDIR as a form of distraction. "Oh yes, she's a beauty, isn't she? Between her and the TARDIS we can maybe try... something, at least."
Donna looked away so he wouldn't see her wince at his retort, and started to say something else on the matter but was immediately distracted by the comment about the Doctor. "What d'you mean something's wrong with the Doctor? What's wrong with him?" Her forehead creased together, immediately thinking back to all of her interactions with the Doctor recently. She was pulled from her thoughts however with his outburst and she instantly looked back up at him, her complete focus on him where it needed to be in that moment. "We won't be stuck forever," she said confidently, keeping her gaze on him even as he looked back at the TARDIR. "I think any universe knows better than to keep you stuck for too long. And it might be longer than anyone wants, but I do believe that TARDIR of yours will help. You're the Doctor, and she's your ship. A thing will happen."
John sighed, his shoulders slumping. "He's stuck too, and I think it's wearing on him. Plus, he's getting old. And I mean old, old. Like ... possibly Time Lord version of senile old." He didn't even bother to hide how much that troubled him. "Did I ever tell you that Time Lords only get 13 regenerations? The reason - the theory, anyway - behind that is that we get mentally unstable if we push it beyond that." Thunking his head against the glass, he pulled back with a small 'ow'. "He trashed the TARDIS. Actually tried to hurt her. Then threatened me when I said I'd stop him." Something in him relaxed when Donna spoke, her sensible words drawing him back from the darkness of his thoughts, and the advancement of the possibility of using the TARDIR - something he hadn't even considered - giving him a new perspective on the situation. "A 'thing', eh?" he said, with a tiny smile. "Good thing I'm good at things."
Donna frowned, glancing over at the wall that she knew connected to the Doctor's room. She searched her memory for a time the Doctor told her that, because it did ring a bell now that he'd mention it, but she wasn't sure if she was remembering him tell her that or remembering from when she was inside his head... Her frown deepened as she lifted her eyes back to the Doctor in front of her, wincing when he thunked his head on the window. "Oi, careful. Now what did that solve?" She scolded, though her voice was still laced with concern. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise before realization dawned on her and she felt guilty for not having followed her instinct and checked in on him when she initially thought something was up -- cast or not. "The butterfly room." She muttered, more to herself and shook her head, now worried about both of the Doctors. Not that she hadn't been before, but then it was just the normal amount of worrying she did for them. Watching her friend relax though did a number on her ability to relax, and she gave a nod. "Exactly. I don't know anyone else who's as good at 'things' as you are."
John rubbed at his forehead, muttering, "Many things," before catching Donna's eye and deciding honesty was the best policy. "Fine, fine," he said. "Won't do it again. And yes, the butterfly room. It's not finding the butterfly room that's the problem, it's the fact that he ripped apart half of the TARDIS to do so." He shook his head. "He's probably just as frustrated - if not more frustrated - than I am, at being stuck here. Still, it's worrying." He took a breath, sticking his hands into his pockets. "You know me best, Donna. Do you think you'd be able to talk him out of it?"
Donna cringed imagining the TARDIS all torn apart, especially at the hands of the Doctor who she knew loved that ship more than anything. She chewed on her bottom lip, averting her gaze for a moment before nodding, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. "Y'know you're not exactly always the easiest person to talk to," she teased, poking him in the chest. "But I'll definitely do my best." She promised.
John mimed a terribly offended look. "Oi! I'm perfectly easy to talk to. Look, I talk all the time, even when you don't want me to. Talking, it's what this gob is good at. Next gob's good at it too." Smiling, he relaxed a little, trusting that if anyone would be able to help the Doctor, it was his best mate. "Well, then, Donna Noble. I'll leave it in your good hands," he said, winking.