Chapter Text
The Doctor’s fork screeched loudly against his plate of cheese and potato pie.
Sylvia shot him a half-way aborted glare but he didn’t mind. She had warmed up to him a lot recently.
Straitening up and tearing his eyes from his plate, he finds Donna staring at him. There were all seated outside, taking in the last bit of cool fall air before winter came and it got too cold to eat outside anymore. The chill wore down to the Doctor’s bones, but he didn’t mind much. It was refreshing and he couldn’t help but sit back and soak it in as leaves fell around them.
They were eating mostly quietly, save for the Doctor’s fork scraping and Rose’s comments about her day at school.
“-one of the biggest reasons why I’m glad you’re staying with us Doctor.”
Hearing his name snapped the Doctor out of his languid trance, turning to look at Rose, where she beamed at him,
“Mum’s cooking has been so much better since you’ve been here,” Rose said between bites, “She must be trying to impress you or something.”
She giggled as Donna sent a half-hearted swat her way.
“I’m not trying to impress him, you twit, I’m just trying to get him to eat,” Donna says not unkindly, “God knows we need to do something to fill out that twig frame.”
The Doctor barked out a laugh, “Fair enough,” he said scooping up some food, “‘S not my fault I have a great metabolism.” He shot a wide smile towards Donna.
He can’t really be offended, he’s only gotten skinnier since settling down. He never had to eat much, Time Lord biology or whatever, but when he was traveling it felt like there was more of a point. He would eat out of obligation when visiting a new planet, or when he couldn’t help himself but try all the new foods. He ate even more when there was a human friend(s) traveling with him with mouths to feed. Now that he was sedentary though, he couldn’t find much reason to eat. He knew Earth food.
Donna had made some cheese and potato pie with steamed tomatoes, something the Doctor had somehow only had a few times before. It was good, if a bit bland to cater to Sylvia’s taste.
The same judgment must’ve crossed Donna’s mind as well, because she paused to point her fingers towards the other end of the table, “Mind passing me the salt, love?”
The Doctor, who was closest to that end, hummed and set down his fork to reach across the flowered dish.
Clink
“Doctor?”
Salt spilled across the table where the Doctor had dropped the shaker. Small crystals scattered against the hardwood and suddenly, the Doctor wasn’t all quite there anymore.
The cool air turned threateningly cold as the garden disappeared from the corners of his vision. He was back in that spaceship, on the edge of the universe.
The salt had awoken something in the nothingness and a giggle tore at his mind. He had brought him back, everyone was in da–
“Doctor!”
He panted softly, his breaths coming out shallow between his barely parted lips. He tore his eyes away from the salt to meet Donna’s concerned face.
“What?” His voice was far too quiet.
Confusion fluttered across her face, “I said are you all right?”
The Doctor knew that he didn’t look alright if the worried stares from everyone else were anything to go by.
He cleared his throat, “Yes, sorry,” he coughed lightly, “yes I’m alright. Got lost there for a second.” He finished the sentence with a smile, hoping to reassure everyone, but they didn’t seem convinced. Donna least of all.
He wasn’t even convinced. He could still feel the chill of the ship in his lungs, those things lurking behind his back, and the absolute fear of what he had invoked with his superstitions. It seized his body and made every hair stand on end. It was foreign and hideous – this terror.
It was threatening to choke him, and he couldn’t stand the disbelieving stares from Donna and the rest of them. He had to leave, now.
“I’m just going to - I’m just going to get some water, be back in a mo’.” He stood awkwardly as his chair scraped across the concrete. He forced himself to slow down and appear as calm as possible as he staved off his panic attack until out of view.
He turned into the kitchen and braced himself over the kitchen sink. He tensed as he heard hushed voices and then Donna’s chair scrape back, presumably to follow him, he desperately tried to calm himself down.
She came in through the back door, quietly shutting it behind her. He subconsciously held his breath, as if not being able to see his panicked breathing would prove to Donna that he was a-okay. Nevermind the fact that he could feel that all the blood had left his face, and his hands were near violently shaking against the sink.
“Hey,” she opened with, softly. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes, leaning slightly on the counter next to him.
He parroted back a “Hey,” as he glanced over to meet her eyes. They were filled with thinly veiled worry and she wrung her hands, probably holding herself back from reaching out. He let out a deep sigh as he tried to reel himself in.
“The salt?” She probed, right on the money.
A breathy laugh escaped him “Yeah,” he admitted, defeated.
“Sorry it took me a second to realize,” she laughed a bit too, “The salt thing kind of got buried in my memories under everything that happened after.”
“Don’t apologize,” he started with his normal dismissive tone, “I should be sorry, I’m the one who fre–”
“Don’t you dare.” His head whipped towards her at her suddenly stern voice, “You’re allowed to freak out, you’re here to heal. This is all just a part of that.”
“Doesn’t feel like I’m healing,” he sounded petulant, even to himself, “Feels like I’m worse off than when I was traveling.”
“It’s because you’ve settled down, it’s all catching up to you.”
She finally reached out to him, rubbing his back as he slumped further into the kitchen sink. The panic was beginning to ebb and his stomach was starting to turn in response. He felt so weak.
He sucked air in as he tried to explain his discomfort “I hate it, its so- so-”
“Scary?” He looked her in the eyes again, full of care as she slightly smiled.
He turned away and hummed, “Yeah.”
“You’ll get through it, I promise.” She pulled back to smile at him and he did his best to smile back, but something about it felt off. He swore her smile was a bit wider than it should have been, lips a bit too stretched.
Panic fluttered it’s wings weakly in his chest, but he quickly squashed it down. Those things were left at the edge of everything. She’s real.
She has to be.
He didn’t have time to linger on it as she turned on her heel back towards the door, “Come on space man, let’s go finish dinner,” she called, pausing to look back at him “Before you keel over.”
A laugh tore from the warm part in his chest, “Donna!”