Thursday Afternoons

The Beginning

I have made you. I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

Isaiah 46:4

~.~

Nothing important was happening that day which made it odd for the madman and his box. For what the madman held possession of was not your ordinary box it was a time-travelling-space-discovering-bluest-of-the-bl ues type 40 TARDIS. It would take him anywhere he wished to ago at any time he wished to be there. Yet, here he was, sitting alone in a park he could vaguely remember on a Thursday afternoon.

A Thursday afternoon, of all the types. Could he really find anything more boring. But in that unexciting place he found something relaxing, comforting and remarkably time was letting him be forgotten, if only for an hour. As the sun beat down warmly on his face The Doctor realized he was in no rush and that perhaps it was better off if he stopped to enjoy the extremely little things every once in a few whiles.

His leg twitched, an anxious tick. He had been still for far too long and his body now had decided to rebel. The Doctor's hands started to shake as the world in his head spun that little bit faster, voices calling out in a rage to catch his attention. Adventure called and who was he to deny it. He moved to get up to leave the park but something stopped him. A weight pressed down on his shoulders keeping him sat in the bench as a little boy he had spotted on the playground jumped off and moved for the open patch of grass.

He hadn't noticed the boy all that much until now as his outstretched arms bent and curved while he ran, the sounds of an aeroplane flowing from his mouth. The boy was alone in his imagination as he ran around the grass ducking, rolling and jumping as he continued to be the plane. The Doctor could practically see the energy rolling off the boy as he pulled himself into a handstand and then rolled forward enacting a battle he had conjured up all on his own.

The Doctor could not help but notice that the boy was content without companions. He seemingly did not need the attention or completion that came with other children, but at the same time there was something missing from his smile, something that was fixed with a friend. The seclusion of the boy worried him but none the less the child was not his to worry about and had seemed rather content to play alone, who was he to judge the decisions of a happy child.

An adult voice drifted though the noisy laughter of children and their constant chatter. It caught the attention of the little boy whose head, at the sound of it, picked up like an eager puppy. He was up and off the ground in a second flat, his hands madly rubbing at the knees of his pants in an attempt to rid his school uniform from dirt. The Doctor felt compelled to follow as the boy stopped briefly at a tree to collect a school bag that was almost the size of his small being.

Again his mind reminded him that this child seemed familiar in a sense. His movements were eliciting several memories The Doctor couldn't quite place, but he would be wrong to say that he wasn't intrigued to find out. He got up from the park bench slowly, unsure that it was a smart idea to follow a little boy home from the park. But none the less the thought was schooled and The Doctor followed the boy anyway.

It was short distance to the edge of the park grounds where neat little houses were lined up in a tidy row. The boy walked towards one directly, a white fence and vibrant garden existed in front of the redbrick home. A voice called through the open door as the boy walked through the gate and up two short steps. From The Doctor's distance he could only just hear a remarkably familiar voice scold the young boy for his ill timing. Apparently the woman, the boy's mother, The Doctor assumed had expected him home fifteen minutes prior to his arrival claiming that the child must have stopped to play at the park before retiring home. When the woman's voice continued with the boy's name The Doctor's mind slid a puzzle piece into place.

There had been a basketball game, many years ago for The Doctor but sometime in the future from now. It was likely that the game had been played in the very same park they had been in today which would clear up the familiar air about it. The boy was older then, his hair darker, his face stronger and his legs quite a bit longer. But there was no doubt that this young man then, was this boy now. 'Isaiah' flowed through a cracked window now but had been chanted on the court as he caught the ball and then moved to shoot. People milled about the park's basketball court calling out his name, cheering him on with ambient whoops as he played.

The boy played the game unfazed then as he played alone on this day. He was the only one on the court, The Doctor could see it in his eyes. He recognized that his team members were there but did not acknowledge them whilst the ball was in his hands and the hoop close enough to score.

Isaiah. It was a nice name, a soft name, gentle, caring and strong. Salvation of the Lord, it meant if he had remembered correctly. That was a heavy weight to place on someone's shoulders, certainly not the name he would choose for his own son if he ever had another away from Gallifrey.

The Doctor approached the front door slowly, admiring the flowers that lined the little brick path under his feet. He should have been pleased that he found the memory, that he had seen some of this boy when he was grown. But it wasn't enough, something called to him and it was not until he looked up, his eyes level with the front door did his hearts start to pound in fear of another meaning. It wasn't every day that he came across this colour on things that he did not put there, this colour that called home without a second thought.

The front door was painted TARDIS blue.

He shook his head in an attempt to tell himself 'no'. No, he would not approach that door any further, he would not knock to see who was inside. It was a Thursday afternoon, nothing important happened on a Thursday afternoon.

He wasn't interested.

He didn't care.

He was turning around now.

He was leaving.

But he wasn't.

His feet were carrying him further up the little path, closer to the door. Try as hard as he may The Doctor couldn't stop the pull, he couldn't fight it. His hand raised against his will, curiosity winning over as he knocked on the deep blue door that sang to his senses like home.

The woman's voice called out again, sounding irritated through the wood. 'Isaiah Song, I swear if these are your footprints on my rug you have another thing coming!' More words followed, something about 'straight home from school' and 'the park' but The Doctor wasn't paying attention, he couldn't hear it over the sound of his pounding hearts and the need to remind himself to breathe. It was all in vain once the door was pulled open, his breathing stopped and his hearts skipped a beat as the voice behind the door suddenly had a face.

Her name ghosted his lips as his realization surmounted. He had found her home, the place where she lived, the place where she had made a home and this was no place for him. His mind wandered from the moment briefly as he contemplated the little boy's relation but there was no doubting it when a voice called back, apologizing to his mother as the door was pulled open by the woman herself.

"River." The Doctor gulped as his day continued to make his head spin as it all fell into place. He should have known why he was so drawn to the boy and his mother's house. He should have known at the startling hint of TARDIS blue paint.

"Doctor," She breathed easily, her expression startled. He would have thought she was acting as normal if she hadn't shuffled herself onto the front step pulling the door tightly closed behind her. "What are you doing here?" She stammered, caught off guard. It wasn't like her to blatantly hide things without a teasing smile or flirty 'spoilers' instead she actually looked frightened of his discovering her secret.

Her grip eased off the doorhandle when a crash sounded from inside the house her face paling instead of her knuckles. She turned quickly, pushing the door open to run inside. The Doctor's being there hardly mattered now as the little boy from the park, Isaiah, was found on the floor a shattered pot plant lying beside his body.

Catching The Doctor's eye the boy forced an embarrassed smile as he pushed himself up on his elbows. The Doctor smiled back, knowing the embarrassing extent of his own clumsy limbs. He had been in many a situation like this and his hearts honestly went out to the little boy as his mother began to fret undecided about which was more important; the now ruined off-white rug or the extent of her son's injuries. The Doctor took a moment to take some attention off the boy himself and instead draw his attentions to admiring River Song's choice in décor. The off-white walls with stark white trimmings were as vibrant in their presentation as the woman was in life. But outside the white walls, brown furniture, brown flooring and the green plants The Doctor noticed the presentation of the boy's presence in her life over everything else. Pictures neatly lined the walls while children's toys, shoes and clothes scattered the foyer and what he could see of the living room in neat and sometimes messy piles.

"Sorry mum." Isaiah whispered as his eyes darted away from inspecting The Doctor. "I didn't mean too, I just wanted to know who was at the door." River turned to glare at The Doctor over her shoulder, who had now taken an uninvited step into her house his large shoed foot placed right beside Isaiah's smaller dirt print.

She reconsidered asking him to leave as she readjusted her kneeling position in the mess her son had made. River's hands fluttered over Isaiah's arms and legs skirting over old bruises and cuts he had accumulated just from being a clumsy child before her hands moved to tuck his floppy dark hair behind his ears. "What have I told you about looking where you are going?" She chided with a soft look. Why she kept nice things out where her son could knock them over was still a wonder to both the woman and her boy especially when it concerned pot plants and rugs or delicate china and precious artefacts.

Isaiah looked away, his fingers tracing patters through the spilt soil on her rug knowing that it was probably too late to be saved. "I didn't mean it." He whispered again, ashamed.

Without permission from his wife – or was she his wife, he thought – The Doctor stepped further into the house and crouched down beside River, his hands hanging between his knees casually. "Hey, I'm sure it's okay, right River?" He nudged the woman softly with his elbow. "I do things on accident all the time, sometimes it doesn't even involve being clumsy, sometimes it's just … me." The Doctor's face fell slowly a certain memory playing in his mind. One he had really wanted to be rid of.

A smile tugged at Isaiah's lips as he moved to sit up a little further, his mother's hand holding tightly to his arm as he did so. "What did you do?" The boy asked as though he could see right through to The Doctor's thoughts.

"The Chicken Dance." The Doctor gritted through his teeth a shudder running down his spine in regret. "But, what's done is done!" He clapped his hands loudly causing the little boy to laugh.

"My name's Isaiah, what's yours?" Isaiah lent past his mother in order to extend a tiny hand but River stooped her son in the middle of his motion grabbing onto his hand and pulling him up as she too stood instead.

Knowing that she had her reasons The Doctor wasn't shocked that River pulled the boy back. He was daring, The Doctor, he could give you all of your dreams but he could crush some of them too. He was dangerous and he could understand why River Song did not want that for her little boy. "Interesting name, Isaiah." He tested it out on his tongue with a grin, he had to know, he had to prod. This boy was calling out to him and he still couldn't figure out why but this was his opening and he was taking it while River was still letting him. "I'm The Doctor." He tested the waters with his wife or would be wife – he still wasn't sure - as he extended his hand, still crouched on the ground to the little boy who wasn't much taller than his crouched height.

Now on his feet Isaiah stepped around his mother's legs cautiously as he extended his own little hand out to The Doctor, his head titled softly. "That's not a real name." He told the Time Lord, a soft smile gracing both of their features.

"I suppose you're right. You can call me John, how about that, John Smith?" The boy nodded as he wrapped his fingers around The Doctor's sealing the deal on their names and ultimately their tied fate. "How old are you Isaiah?" The Doctor asked touching on the basics of conversation in a hope to be allowed further information on this little boy's life.

"I'm five!" He jumped, his whole face alight. "I go to school and everything!" The energy The Doctor witnessed in the park was not reserved only for play, the older man noted as the child continued to bounce on the balls of his feet. "How old are you Mr John?" He asked his bouncing slowing.

It was The Doctor's turn to light up with excitement, he didn't only insist on the face of a twelve-year-old, he often acted like one too but in that moment he believed that he was simply channelling the boys eager excitement. "Do you want to know how old I am?" He asked, his eyes wincing as he tried to pull the boy under his endearing spell. The child nodded furiously. "I am twelve hundred and three." Isaiah's deep green eyes poured over The Doctor's face as he spoke, matter of fact.

Isaiah roared with laughter, "That's silly! No one is twelve hundred and three." He didn't believe the man before him whom, as far as he had seen was telling ridiculous lies.

"Oh, but I am." The Doctor grinned knowingly as the boy continued to stare, intrigued. The Doctor dared to flick his eyes towards River who had now taken a step back, her thumb pressed between her lips as she worried at the nail deciding whether or not she should interfere with the truth before the little boy said something innocently.

Isaiah laughed again, his little face alight as he watched The Doctor intensely. The Doctor couldn't help but grin back at the child whose floppy brown hair was tickling the child's cheek. Suddenly, overcome by a thought Isaiah twirled to face his mother. "Can he stay for tea?" He asked pleadingly. "Please?" Little hands clasped under his chin Isaiah begged his mother knowing that she would eventually cave under his begging eyes. "I can show him my planets. I can show you my planets!" He span again this time to face The Doctor again, his arms in front of him with the excitement.

"Yeah River, he could show me his planets." The Doctor joined in on the boys excitement there was a line and he was getting very close to pushing River Song over it but she still hadn't kicked him out yet. There were no raised words, no threat of pulling her gun on him or trying to kill him, again. Instead, River stood scared, petrified even as her son fell in love with The Doctor.

She continued to gnaw at the thumb in her mouth for a moment before she looked at Isaiah with worry. She really didn't want him falling under this spell, there was so much at stake with his young life and already she had sacrificed so much for him over the last six years and now it was about to crumble, she wasn't ready yet. "I, I don't think it's a good idea, Isa." She stuttered, her thumb now picking at her lip nervously.

"But, mum, please. I'll go to bed when I'm told. I event won't ask for a story." No matter her worry she couldn't help but be surprised at the boys admission. Isaiah was five and for as long as he could talk the little boy begged for a story before bed. She told him masked tales of the Raggedy Man and his adventures and that was as far as her son had travelled into the cosmos. That was as much as she was comfortable with her sons connection to his father and he was addicted to the stories enough, she couldn't bear the thought of what would happen if he was granted with the real adventures. Watching the boy stand before the man who bore half of his DNA was too much.

"Isaiah, I'm sure he has other things to do and really I hadn't planned for us to be accompanied tonight." Isaiah jumped the energy pumping through his legs again as his mother stalled.

Nervously moving to stand The Doctor ran his hand through his hair before readjusting his coat. "Well, ah, Isaiah your mum's right you can't invite people last minute."

The little boy had to tilt his head to look up at The Doctor as his feet slowly stopped moving. "But," His world was shattered with the simplest of things. "Mum doesn't mind, honest. You don't mind mum, do you?" The zig-zag between adults was starting to make Isaiah's head spin as he turned back to his mother and stumbled a bit with the motion.

Stepping out to catch her son River pulled him against her, her arms crossing over his shoulders as she hugged him tight. "I think it might be best if Mr Smith went home."

"But he's my friend." Isaiah tilted his head up to look at his mother with a five-year-old pout.

She laughed fondly her grip on the child loosening with the warm smile that tugged at her lips. "Sweetie, you've only just met him." With everything she had given up, everything she had done and experienced in order to be here with her son on this day, all of it was worth it to experience life with Isaiah. His sweet innocence kept her sane even if she cried herself to sleep some nights in yearning for the stars and galaxies, to be amongst them again.

River tore her eyes from looking down at her son to study the man before her. The Doctor, her Doctor. He didn't know, he didn't even try to make a verbal guess towards who this boy was he accepted his existence and River assumed – she knew – that he was giving her the space she needed to come to terms with before giving him the truth. Beautiful idiot. But she knew, she could see it in his face, he hadn't once thought that this child was his. She watched quietly as he fought a battle in his head before crouching down once again in front of Isaiah getting down onto his level in respect. "Your mum's right, Isaiah. I have lots of things to do tonight. Thousands of things!" His face lit up at the boy watched him still amazed. "But," he lent in and tapped the boy on the nose fondly. "we'll see each other again."

"Are you sure?" Isaiah asked as his little body sagged against his mother, defeat winning over as The Doctor nodded in the affirmative.

Extending a hand The Doctor waited for the little boy to take the offered limb in a firm yet childishly weak shake. He was getting up to leave quietly with a soft nod to River and happy goodbye to Isaiah when the child broke from his mother's hold and stopped The Doctor when he spoke. "Mr Smith?" He called out softly causing The Doctor to stop at the door. "Don't worry about my mum. She can be a bit tough sometimes but I know she likes you."

"How'd you know that?" The Doctor asked in return his eyes flicking between River's worried gaze and the content little boy.

"She wouldn't have let you in if she didn't."

[…]

She tucked her little boy in that night as he murmured words about John Smith and his usual space nonsense that was in fact not nonsense at all. River pressed a kiss to his thick hair as she smoothed his blankets down before leaving the room. She stopped that night, as she did every night and watched him from the doorway for a little while. She had too some nights, she needed to watch him for her own sanity make sure he was still breathing before she slipped into her own nightly routine.

Convinced that he was fine to sleep on his own she turned her back and trotted down the stairs. A glass was waiting for her in the neat kitchen, a bottle of wine sitting next to it just as she had left both items before making sure Isaiah was getting ready for bed.

She sighed heavily as she pulled the cork, the stress of her afternoon filling the room like the soft hiss of the relieved bottle. Filling her glass, her back against the counter River Song let herself melt into the support as a tear streaked her face. She had come so close to telling him today, he was in her foyer talking to their son and she couldn't tell him. Couldn't even say 'Isaiah this is your dad'. She feared what would come with that knowledge once it was thrust upon father and son. Her little boy was sick, he already had a number above his head cementing his fate. Doctor's didn't believe he would live past 20-years-old and she couldn't bear the burden of telling the man who would be effected the most. She knew her husband, knew what he was like, what he would try to do and to be honest with herself; she was keeping Isaiah a secret in order to prevent the unintentional heartbreak he would cause them both.

Her son was going to die that was a fact and although everyone had a number not all of them were aware of it. Her son had a deadline to live his life and she could not expose him to the wonders of the universe as selfish as it was.

"Professor River Song." His voice startled her out of a daydream. One hand reached back to steady herself against the counter as the other wiped at her eyes while she spun to face him.

"What are you doing here?" She couldn't force the cheeky 'hello Sweetie' or playful 'what sort of time do you call this?' it wasn't her life anymore. River Song didn't have adventures with The Doctor, she lived a mundane life with Isaiah and no matter how much of herself belonged to that playful teasing banter she couldn't put it on, not now, not in this house.

The Doctor ignored her words as he stepped further into the kitchen, "Who are you and what have you done to my wife?" He held his hands out to her and she stepped, without thinking, towards him as his hands fell to her hips. Instantly he pulled her closer, her body flush against his as he nuzzled his nose into her neck eliciting a small whimper from the wife, the real one he hadn't seen in years. She whimpered, actually whimpered as he pressed a feather light kiss to her neck.

River didn't answer his question instead her eyes traced his face, like Isaiah's had done in wonder just that afternoon. It wasn't just wonder she watched him with it was awe and longing she watched him like a lover who had just gotten their other half back. She should have known better with The Doctor.

"I don't know if you knew this," He drawled as she swayed closer to his touch. There was something about the woman before him, messy curls, oversized jumper and jeans that baffled yet intrigued him. She looked like River Song, like his River Song but there was something missing; the flash make-up and glamorous clothing, it was odd that she could still look like that without the getup. "but there's a little boy living in your house."

Like a tight pulled string cut in half River pulled back from her husband. Fear ghosted over her face if only briefly as she stared at him. It was the same Doctor, the same one from earlier in the afternoon. The same version twice in one day, she was certainly in for a treat.

"I have noticed, Sweetie. He's my son." The Doctor nodded, he had gathered that much from meeting Isaiah that afternoon. "How did you find us?" She asked, stepping back and crossing her hands over her chest.

"Where did he come from?"

"Is that what you came here for? Surely I don't have to explain how babies are made to you, Sweetie."

The Doctor ran a hand over his face in vexation. "You know what I mean River." She hummed playing dumb if only to watch him squirm. She waited, standing in front of him her fingers playing with the stem of her wine glass as she waited for him to crack. He didn't. Instead he paced, scuffing his shoes against her clean floor with his hands in his pockets and his head hung between his shoulders.

"He's our son." She broke watching him with earnest, scared of his response. The man stopped moving and River could honestly believe that he stopped breathing altogether. She took a step towards him her hand daring to reach out and grace his arm. Silence filled the room like air in a balloon, she could only stand so much before she burst. "I didn't tell you about him because I was scared." She whispered, her words didn't need to be louder than that as she took another step closer to him needing it more for herself than him. "I was scared that he would be taken from me, from us. That my childhood would become his, I was scared of that. You have to understand that I didn't tell you because I was protecting him and through that I was protecting us." The Doctor let out a heavy breath but didn't say anything. He was listening; he had to hear why she did this before he said anything. He couldn't speak on the wrong pretences.

Clocks ticked between them, time passing slowly but just that little bit too fast and neither party knew what to do. River needed her husband to understand what she had done and why she had done it and he did, he just didn't know how to tell her so.

Someone else broke the silence for them as Isaiah stood in the kitchen doorway his shoulders slumped and his face pale. "Mama." He rasped and that was all he needed to say before his mother glided towards him and swooped him up into her arms with an utterance of 'oh baby'. She squeezed him tightly enjoying the sleepy warmth of his little body before she sat him on the counter and started to rub at his back. "John." there was no excitement in the boy's words but it was there on his pale and sickly face. Isaiah had transformed from playful little boy to sickly child in a matter of hours, The Doctor was rather taken aback by the transformation.

River clapped on his back repetitively as the boy sat there and smiled tiredly at the taller man who just stared. "What are you doing?" He asked River eyes large and worried. Never had he had to do this with his children on Gallifrey and he was certain that it wasn't an Earth thing.

Stopping what she was doing River ran her hands down Isaiah's face softly before she kissed his forehead, "You okay to do it for a little bit, bubba?" She asked as she wrapped her hand around his little fist and raised it too his chest. "Not too hard this time." She scolded as he nodded softly still half asleep. Turning her attention to The Doctor, one hand on the counter beside her sons knee River closed her eyes. "He has Cystic Fibrosis." She stopped, waited, breathed again before continuing. "He's not a Time Lord." She leant towards The Doctor so Isaiah couldn't hear. He was too busy clapping on his chest with his mouth open giggling at the sounds he was making as a cough stopped him every few claps. "He's more human than Time Lord and even with that small strand his body isn't capable of holding it. His lungs don't work like they should the Cystic Fibrosis comes from the mucus on his lungs and in his digestive track. He has to work that little bit harder to breathe every day and I'm constantly watching what he's putting in his mouth."

She pulled away from where she was standing as she caught Isaiah out the corner of her eye reaching for the muffins they had made before dinner and she had been yet to put away. Tapping his hand affectionately she gave the boy a warning glare with a reminder that he was supposed to be sleeping not sitting in the dim light of the kitchen eating muffins.

"I was going to tell you about him. Eventually." She sighed breaking the muffin in half and half again before she handed one of the quarters to the now gleaming little boy. River rubbed at Isaiah's back reminding the boy that he needed to continue with the chest percussion for another fifteen minutes before he could stop and then she expected him back in bed.

The boy frowned before catching The Doctor's eye and smiling giddily again. He stopped breathing;The Oncoming Storm, The Doctor he couldn't breathe when the little boy, his little boy grinned at him as though the two of them were in on a secret River didn't know about. "He got sick and I didn't know what to do." River was talking to him again and Isaiah was off in his own little world. "I knew if you knew that you were going to try and do everything to help him. But he doesn't need the heartache that would come from that."

Behind River Isaiah moved, slipping off the counter and drawing The Doctor's attention as he did so. The child didn't go far as he padded to the other end of the kitchen counter and pulled a box of tissues down. Coughing loudly into the tissue he carried it to the bin neatly to dispose of it before moving to hang off his mother's leg. "Bed?" She asked softly, her fingers threading through his hair.

"Can Mr Smith tuck me in?" River half bent over to pick up the five-year-old she should probably stop carrying stoped mid bend to look at the paralysed man. His eyes grew round with fear and a simple question;

'Can I?'

Nodding to herself she rose, Isaiah in her arms. She hugged her son briefly as she always did enjoying the baby smell that still stuck around and how small and fragile he seemed when he curled around her body. Pressing a kiss to his temple she handed him over to The Doctor who was standing awkwardly with his arms half out.

Isaiah wasn't a baby anymore, he could walk and talk he could live relatively independently for five-years of age but there was something about handing him over to his father that made her eyes only see the tiny, quiet newborn child. The child she should have passed over to this man for a hold five years ago.

She watched with a fond kind of heartache as Isaiah wrapped his legs around The Doctor's waist and locked his arms around his neck. She put her hand on the small of her husband's back knowing that in all this time he wouldn't be used to the sleepy weight of a child and walking through a house he had never before seen the whole of. Pushing gently she smiled at Isaiah who watched her over his father's shoulder with sleepy eyes as he was carried up to his bedroom on the small second floor.

If The Doctor noticed the stars and planets that littered the little boy's room in the dark he didn't comment as he lowered Isaiah down on his bed. His eyes already closed with sleep and the rest of his body following.

"Can I see him?" He whispered stopping instinctively at the door as they backed out of the room quietly. The Doctor couldn't take his eyes off his son, not yet. He didn't know how he hadn't seen it before: the dark hair, the thick floppy locks, his green eyes and energy. Perhaps he didn't want to see it in fear of the truth, but the truth was out now and he would never not see himself in his son.

Crossing her arms lazily over her chest as she stifled a yawn River watched The Doctor as he watched their son. "What do you mean?"

It took him a few seconds but slowly he removed his eyes from the sleeping boy to look down at his rather short wife who had domesticated herself almost to the point where he didn't recognise her. "I want to see him regularly. Take him to the park, help him with his homework, adventures … I want to be his dad." He whispered the last part almost as though he was ashamed for asking.

If he had asked her earlier in the afternoon she knew what the answer would have been. No. Flat out no. But now, watching his concern, his terror and care as he just tucked the little boy he just found out about into bed she had a completely different answer.

"How about we start slow, he doesn't know who you are but you can see him on Thursday afternoons." The Doctor nodded drinking in her every word. "He gets home from school at half-past-three depending on if he dawdles, which he usually does." She rolled her eyes warmheartedly. "You can see him for an hour starting next week. Does that work?" The Doctor nodded vigorously. "But you have to turn up when you say you will. If you hurt him, I can promise you'll never see him again." He nodded again, accepting what he was being given. It was a step, a large step towards a child he didn't even know he had but now, now she was letting him into Isaiah's life and The Doctor knew that River had every reason to say no and kick him out of her house. But she didn't.

As a new piece I would love to know what you all think about Isaiah and the plot line in a whole.

See you around, little sandwiches.