Prologue

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"The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect." That quote described my life pretty accurately lately. My dad died when I was about six months old, but was still alive and well in a parallel universe that me and my mum were now living in. I lost my chance at the stars with the Doctor, but now I worked for Torchwood here in London. I still get to go on adventures and work with aliens and save people, just not in the TARDIS, and just not with him. I just kept wishing the pattern would continue and the Doctor would come back, same old face, and we could just pick up where we left off. I knew it wasn't possible, but I just kept hoping. Honestly, it was what got me through those first few weeks without him.

But then I realized that Dad hadn't just saved me when he popped back to reality just in time to save me from falling into the void. He had saved something, someone, much greater than myself. He had saved the one thing the Doctor left me (most likely unintentionally) to remind me of him.

And when he came to say goodbye three months later, I just couldn't bring myself to tell him. I saw the look on his face when I brought up the baby, and I knew then that he could never know. He'd tear the world apart and the entire universe along with it, just to get back to me. 

I was not about to make that happen.

So I told him it was Mum and Dad's. More Tyler's on the way, everything good over here, tried to make it sound like a happy thing. Which, believe me, it was. But I was scared. I didn't know what would happen. What aspects of the Doctor the baby would have. What if it had two hearts? What was I supposed to do then? What if it regenerated one day? How was I supposed to be able to explain that? And what would happen if it ever got sick? I wouldn't be able to take it to see a doctor. And what would happen when it got older, started asking questions about its father? What was i supposed to say then?

I decided to just cross those bridges when I got to them. Torchwood had a perfectly fine doctor. I would take the baby there.

When I told Mum, a thousand emotions crossed over her face. First she looked stern, almost like she was about to lecture me on how I was only twenty, then she looked almost sad. I could tell she knew what it was like losing the Doctor. She had lost Dad when I was young. Excited was next, Mum loved babies. And lastly, I guess Mum decided on happy. Happy that I could hang on to this piece of him forever, happy that I was (sort of) happy, and happy that there would be a baby to buy clothes for and dress up. Despite her protests, I knew that was what she looked forward to the most.

Mickey and Dad were just kind of shocked. I understood that of course. I was too at first. But they grew used to the idea over time. I did too. 

Two years later, James was about a year and six months old. I loved him more than life itself. He had the same thick brown hair and deep brown eyes as his dad. It almost hurt to look at him at first, it was almost like seeing what the Doctor would have looked like as a child, but I got used to it. I was working at Torchwood again, and Mum would watch him when I was at work. Mickey would sometimes too, though not often. The team and I worked relentlessly to try to get me back to the Doctor. I knew I would be leaving James behind, but I just needed to see the Doctor again. Mum said she would watch him for me while I was gone, and I knew I would be able to come back. I'd make it soon, too. We finally got the dimension cannon to work, and I went a day or two later. I couldn't bear leaving James, but it was too dangerous to take him with me. I had no idea what might be going on in the other world, and I couldn't risk his safety. Also, the Doctor still didn't know. 

And, for now at least, that was for the best.  

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