Donna Who (Complete)

[Dr. Otto]

I wrote this story during the peak of the "11th Doctor Who" rumour craze. This is my version of a scenario where the Doctor regenerates into a clone of Donna Noble. I was thinking about having this comic illustrated, but now that Matt Smith has been officially cast as the new Doctor, there really isn't any point. Still, I hope you enjoy it for what it is: A fun "what if?"

DONNA WHO
by "Dr. Otto"

(NOTE: This piece of fan-fiction takes place in a separate timeline that diverges from the conclusion of JOURNEY'S END.)

The doors of the TARDIS flew open, and the Doctor staggered into the safety of the main console room. His clothes were a mess; jacket stained with slime and mud, pants and shirt singed black by fire and smoke.
But the Doctor's own physical being was in much worse shape. The poison Morbius had administered was already running its course; the Doctor's skin had become a patchwork of black veins and sickly skin.
The Doctor slammed the TARDIS doors shut behind him. He could still hear Omega's final words ringing in his ears.
"No regeneration this time, Doctor," Omega had laughed as the Doctor fled from the Heart of Nix. "My poison was specifically engineered to attack your body's ability to transform itself upon the moment of death. Such a shame that your life was always destined to end so ignominiously."
The Doctor gritted his teeth, as was his habit, and took a few painful steps towards the central column before collapsing to his knees.
Two months, the Doctor's inner voice railed at himself. Only two months since I had that run-in with Davros and his new pepperpot empire, and I'm already on my last legs. I really should have seen this coming. I'm a Time Lord, for Rassilon's sake.
The Doctor managed to grab the edge of the console, and hoisted himself up with a groan of agony. A few buttons pushed here, a few knobs turned there, and the central column began to rotate. The TARDIS was now in flight.
There. At least Omega won't be able to parade my corpse around like a trophy. Still, the TARDIS will be horribly alone after I'm gone...how will the poor girl manage without me...?
A sudden series of violent convulsions forced the Doctor back down to his knees. He made one last attempt to stand, before finally toppling over like a sack of potatoes.
For a long time, the Doctor remained where he was, laid out beneath the TARDIS console like a broken doll. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, but seemed to be looking at something else altogether.
Honestly, he brooded, how was I to know my tenth regeneration was going to be my last? I would have spent my last remaining weeks so much better. A spin around the Triklok Nebula, seeing Susan just one more time, planting a tree...
The Doctor felt his skin growing cold. He realized the final moment had come.
"Well," he muttered, "here I go."
The Doctor's eyes fluttered shut. He took one last gulp of air.
His first heart stopped, followed by his second.
A desolate silence fell upon the interior of the TARDIS. The Doctor's body, strewn on the floor, remained ominously still.
Then, as if summoned, tendrils of pink-colored energy began bleeding from the walls and console. It was Donna Noble's essence, locked secretly away within the TARDIS when Donna exchanged her DNA with the Doctor's severed hand during that climactic battle with Davros and the Supreme Dalek only two months ago.
The energy tendrils drifted over the Doctor like a bank of pink fog. Possessed by a single goal, the mist concentrated itself into a single plume that entered the Doctor's mouth.
The Doctor's body shuddered as Donna's biological signature began to overwhelm and assimilate his own. Then, the changes began.
The short crop of brown hair on his head erupted into a long, flowing red mane. His skin began to soften and gain a paler, whiter complexion. The Doctor swallowed with a grimace as his Adam's Apple retracted back into his throat.
The Doctor's clothes sagged in some places, and grew taut in others, as his body converted to Donna's dimensions. Two large bumps pushed their way upwards from his chest, stretching his shirt to the limit.

Three buttons popped off. The Doctor's new breasts jiggled indignantly as he shouted, "I'm going tenpin bowling. What do you think, Dumbo?!" He was still unconscious, but Donna Noble's memories were already asserting themselves into his dreams. And when he cried out, his voice was less his own; it had the fiery, dragoness quality of one of Donna's characteristic rants.
The Doctor's legs parted as another Donna Noble-induced regenerative quake shook his body. Although his pants were still in place, a casual observer would have easily seen the Doctor's groin flatten as the Doctor became Donna where it counted the most.
The Doctor's lips (now with a more feminine configuration) parted as he barked, "You're not matin' with me, sunshine!"
The Doctor was almost convulsing now, as the metamorphosis reached his peak. His buttocks flared and became distinctly pear-shaped. His fingernails lengthened and gained a red tinge. His waist shrank, while his hips swelled.
"Have I ever told you how much I hate you?" The Doctor said to no one. The final adjustments were already being made to his face. The Doctor's nose was the first thing to change, growing a little smaller and more pert. The transformation worked its way outwards, inflating the Doctor's thinnish face into Donna's wide, saucy features. Another burst of pink light, and the Tenth Doctor was no more.
In his place was the Eleventh Doctor, a unique creature born out of the Tenth and Donna Noble. The body and face of Donna, with the consciousness and intellect of the Doctor.
A full minute passed before the Doctor came to. His eyes moved around for a moment or two, confused and bewildered. Then, his lips slowly formed into a giddy smile.
I'm not dead, he thought to herself. I'm not dead. The poison didn't work. Maybe my body fought it off, or some such thing. Who cares?! I'm alive! I've regenerated! The next time I meet that cross-eyed rotter Omega, I'll ram a two-by-four up his...
The Doctor blinked in surprise. He had never thought like that before, even during his darkest moods.
There was something else, something inside his brain, something that hadn't ever been there before. A fire, a growling impatience that made him feel irritable and snappy. His tongue was itching strangely, as if it longed to unleash a barrage of sarcasm towards the first available target.
The Doctor slowly stood up on wobbly legs. A brief wave of dizziness overcame him (or, as she'll now be addressed, "her") and she clutched the edge of the TARDIS console for support.
Well, I guess that's to be expected, the Doctor thought. Just the usual post-regenerative symptoms. Absolutely nothing worth panicking about. But why do I have this sudden hankering for a warm cup of black coffee? I hate coffee! I've always hated coffee! Fifty billion regenerations couldn't change that fact!
The Doctor ran a shaking hand through her hair. Her mouth dropped open with surprise. So I have long hair again? Well, I suppose I can work with that. A new body is always like a new house. There are cracks in the bathroom tiles, rats in the basement, mould on the shower curtain, yadda yadda yadda...
Then she spotted her hands.
Jerking them up so they were eye-level, the Doctor stared aghast at long fingers and smooth palms that were decidedly un-male in appearence. But the red fingernails were the last straw, the very last straw.
Woman hands, she thought calmly, a part of her mind still in denial. I have woman hands. Well, fine. I can work with that too. It might be off-putting, maybe even a little freakish, but...
Something clicked in the Doctor's head. She glared more closely at the hands, eyes narrowing to slits.
Wait a minute. I've seen those fingernails before...
There's no way of knowing how long before the Doctor finally forced himself to put two and two together. When she did, her face grew even paler than it already was. The Doctor's eyes became wet with tears of panic.
"Hello? Testing, testing, 1-2-3?" She said aloud. The voice that greeted her ears was one she thought she'd never hear again, let alone from herself.
Fighting the wave of panic within her, the Doctor frantically tapped an order into the console's main control panel. Her lengthened fingernails made the task more difficult, and the Doctor cussed and swore profanities that were entirely human in nature, and entirely Donna Noble in character. That realization only fanned her frustration and terror.
At last, she managed to type in the command. One of the panels on the console room walls slid open, revealing a full-length mirror. The Doctor stumbled over with shoes that no longer fit her feet and looked at her reflection.
The sight that greeted him was bizarre, if not downright grotesque. It was Donna Noble...abrasive, impudent, and yet oddly courageous Donna Noble...dressed in the wardrobe of her previous incarnation.
"...Donna?" she asked the reflection in disbelief.
But Donna was nowhere to be found in the TARDIS. At least, not the original Donna.
Remnant energy from the two-way metacrisis, the Doctor realized. I must have absorbed it when I regenerated! Oh, bugger!! Her twin hearts sped up as her mind worked faster: What if it doesn't stop? What if my memories start to be displaced by Donna's? I'll become a complete duplicate!
The Doctor was gripped with a fear she'd never known before, but at the same time, she was fascinated. Many young men and women had occupied her throughout time and space. There were a few she had felt a more personal kinship towards, such as Rose and Romana, but for the most part she had kept herself at a relatively safe distance. But now he had regenerated into one of her own former companions. As a result, she felt a strange intimacy towards Donna Noble she had never felt before.
Slowly, she undressed herself with hands that seemed to move of their own will. Very soon, a lump of clothes were tossed aside, and the Doctor stood in front of the mirror naked.
"So this is what you're like in the nude, Donna?" She said aloud. It made her feel better, talking to herself like this. "Well, I can't say I'm impressed. I mean, you're not a hag, but you're not exactly Fay Wray either, are you?" She smiled nervously. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I am sort of cheating, I suppose. You look nice."
The Doctor cupped her breasts, and frowned. "Could do with larger knockers, though." As soon as she'd uttered that, the Doctor's mind recoiled. Larger knockers?! Larger knockers?! She raged at herself. Good grief, Donna was more insecure than she let on!
But the Doctor had inherited as much of Donna's personality as her body, and that personality was already making itself at home.
She stuck her hands on her hips and struck a defensive posture. "What's so insecure about it?" she snapped at her reflection. "Men like to have long weiners, and women like to have big jugs. It's all about self-esteem, so keep your snooty holier-than-thou attitude to yourself, dumbo!"
Then an idea struck the Doctor. She had used leftover regenerative energy before to grow a new hand; why couldn't she use it for other purposes as well? She took a deep breath, and concentrated.
Slowly but surely, the Doctor's breasts swelled larger, until they reached a size the Doctor felt was ideal. If the Doctor had been well-endowed before, now she was downright voluptious.
The Doctor looked herself over again, and this time liked what she saw. She gave her reflection a sly little smirk, and returned to the TARDIS console. Every aspect of her new self was crass and rude in a way she had never experienced before, and yet those same traits made her feel so wonderfully alive.
"Well, old girl," she declared to the central column, "looks like you and I are going to be around for just a while longer." She gave her hair a playful sweep. "Seeing as how I'm an 'old girl' myself now."
The Doctor hoisted herself up atop the TARDIS console and seated her bare bum on the one section that wasn't covered in switches and dials and other doohickery. She took a long look at her surroundings, wearing a vaguely pouty expression.
The Doctor was no longer worried about the possibility of her mind altering with the rest of her body. If there would be any further changes, they would have taken place by this point. Although she had inherited Donna's appearance, her personality, and some vague fragmental memories, her consciousness remained for the most part untouched.
"So where to now?" she asked the TARDIS. "I can't go back to Earth. Not to England at any rate. Won't do Donna's mental health any good to learn she has a clone running about time and space."
The TARDIS gave no reply. It wasn't as if the Doctor expected it to, but she found its silence strangely infuriating.
"Oy!" She snapped. "I'm looking for help! I need advice! We ladies should open up to each other!"
The only answer was the low hum of the central column. The Doctor folded her arms angrily.
"I really want some sympathy right now," she grumbled. "Just a little. A smidgeon. The last Time Lord alive, not counting Omega, and now I've become a bloody clone to boot. Don't get me wrong; I am enjoying this. Somewhat. But I shouldn't be. Not with Donna's body. It's just...wrong, that's all."
The Doctor was quiet for a long time.
"It's not as if Donna was that special," she said, breaking the silence. "I mean, I care for her. I care for all of them. Everyone who ever traveled with me. I guess if I'd turned into Rose, that would be a little different, but Donna is...well, Donna. A woman I met. A woman I liked. That's all. And now I have to live with her face for a very long time."
She sighed deeply. "Well, no use wallowing in self-pity. You've got to go somewhere. Clear out the cobwebs. Start afresh."
A light bulb went off in her head. She grinned with delight. Of course! It was so obvious!
The Doctor jumped off the console and immediately punched in a new set of coordinates. In this instance, Donna's experience as a temp worked in the Doctor's favour. The TARDIS set off towards her new destination.
The Doctor stepped back and gave another Donna-like smirk. "Now then," she said, glancing down at herself, "I'd better get dressed."

The Doctor had used the wardrobe department of the TARDIS on the numerous times he'd regenerated in the past, but now she was faced with a decidedly different problem. Never had the Doctor expected to regenerate into a woman, let alone into Donna's twin. The selection of female clothing available was essentially nonexistent.
Jackets, pants, shirts and socks were tossed in every direction as the Doctor rummaged through the vast jungle of garments, cussing out random obscenities as she did so. She came across Victoria's old dress, but one attempt at wearing it proved embarrassing. She also discovered Tegan's airline uniform; of course, that one was right out of the question.
She found a few of Donna's gowns lying around, but she didn't feel comfortable having those on. The Doctor's body and persona already belonged to Donna; she didn't want to cross the line and risk becoming any more identical to her.
And then her eyes alighted upon something Sarah Jane had worn during their first run together, way back in the day. She specifically remembered Sarah walking around in this particular outfit during their encounter with the anti-creatures of Zeta Minor.
She always thought Sarah Jane looked quite nice in it. Looking at the garment now, the Doctor gained a new appreciation for it: Feminine, yet somehow practical. Well, now she could try it on for herself.

The TARDIS materialized at its destination with a loud, familiar thump. After a moment, the doors swung open, revealing the Doctor in her brand-new attire.
She took one impatient glance at the terrain surrounding her.
"Well," she said disdainfully, "it's not Chiswick, that's for bloody sure."

Well done sir!

Perfect characterisation with good pace and an impressive linguistic flair.

[Vengeance1701]

Don't. Give. Russell. Ideas.

Aw crap, I can't use that anymore....

[Nihtgenga]

Bloody brilliant work indeed. Loved it, mate.

[Esquire]

1. What was the outfit?
2. Will this continue?

[Vengeance1701]

If it's based on Donna...probably something tasteless.

And probably it will continue. WHOfic knows no end.

[Dr. Otto]

Originally Posted by Esquire

1. What was the outfit?
2. Will this continue?

1. See below.
2. No.

[Sephie]

nice story. this forum needs more writers.