Knock knock knock. Knuckles rapped against your door, and the Doctor wasn't sure if you'd even answer. It was dinnertime. Surely you were out, or busy having dinner. For all he knew, you were on vacation.

He'd come to apologize. Years ago, when he'd first had this face, you'd traveled with him in the TARDIS. However, he'd had to leave you behind after you'd had a brush with death that was just a little too close for his peace of mind. He'd dropped you off back home, promising he'd return in an hour, but he never did. Better to leave you without your knowledge than fight for you to stay behind.

He wasn't sure he could bring himself to argue for you to stay on Earth, either. He'd miss you too much. And he had.

Before he knew it, the door was opening. Oh Rassilon, you were really here. His heart started pounding, his palms grew sweaty, and part of his was convinced he was about to vomit.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." You leaned against the doorway, staring at him with one eyebrow arched in irritation. But that wasn't what made his jaw drop. That wasn't what made his stomach flip for the eightieth time in under five minutes. No, that honor went to the child just behind you.

"You..." he croaked, "you're a... a parent?"