This is a sequel to the continuing story of "Trouble" this time featuring my character Trouble, and the new doctor.

One of the worst things to hear was the last sounds of someone's heart beating.
The Doctor pondered this as he walked along the TARDIS. He pondered if his own daughter could sense his end, and as he turned to look at Earth in all its glory, his eyes filled with tears. He had managed to catch a glimpse of her on Earth, talking to Aristotle. He had no doubt that Aristotle was now more than a friend, and he'd turned away before she'd seen him. He knew that she wanted to explore the Earth, and her need to do so would not be hampered by him let alone his death.
"I don't want to go," he whispered his eyes filling with tears.

On Earth in 323 BC, Samantha walked along the streets with Angharad. The two women had enjoyed the comfort of the empire, and Sam had managed to fix the fabric of time by becoming the Mistress of Aristotle.
"I can't believe Time Lords are allowed to do stuff like you," teased Angharad. 'Where to next?'
"I was thinking Liverpool 1963… I want to see John Lennon again," Sam replied, smiling. 'You know shock him with…'
Her words were cut off by her mind suddenly being connected to her fathers. He was burning… regenerating… the fire burnt deep within her mind, and she collapsed to the floor scrabbling against the tiles all the while protecting her predominant stomach.
The last words she heard were 'Trouble!' before she jammed her eyes shut and began to pray to the gallifreyan gods for the sweet release.
The darkness claimed her.

The New Doctor was youthful, younger than what any other time lord regeneration had been for many years. He thought of this as he landed the TARDIS near where Angharad had contacted him from."Doctor?" he turned to be greeted with the youthful face of Angharad. She smiled recognising the same smile as Trouble. He gave her a brief hug. 'I managed to fly the bike down to modern day Britain just to get her to hospital.'
"Good girl," he gave her a pat on the cheek fondly, although Angharad scowled. 'Oh This is Amy by the way, Amy Pond Angharad Locke. Old friend. You'll like her Angharad. Very strict with me.'
"Good someone needs to be," Angharad said as she jogged lightly up the stairs to the hospital. 'This way.'
Samantha Smith was lying in the hospital bed, staring bored up to the ceiling. She brushed her hand along her stomach and when she turned she found the youthful face of The Doctor frowning down at her.
"Hello dad," she said warmly. He gave her a raised eyebrow. 'Oh come on, I make one little mistake.'
"Little? Look at you! Pregnant!"
"You were younger than me!" pointed out Sam sitting upright, and putting a protective hand on her stomach. 'So Wilf did kill you then?"
"You knew,"
"Didn't want to tell you," she studied him. 'Bloody hell, you look younger than me! Great. My own father looks younger than me!'
"Bad luck," he chuckled, and embraced his daughter softly. 'When's it due?'
"About a month," Trouble allowed her father to touch her head. Instantly she felt his connection with his unborn grandchild – the feelings of overwhelming love for its mother engulfing him. 'I've been enjoying a nice chat to it.'
"You don't know what sex it is?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. 'I thought you liked to know everything?!'
"Well some things remain private," replied Trouble. 'How is everyone?'
"Donna's memories are still scrambled," he paused. He remembered how much Trouble missed the human, and his prospective grandchild was feeling the urge to greet her. 'She won't remember you...'

Donna walked hand-in-pockets down the High Street. Her recent divorce from Shaun, had left her thinner but stronger. Suddenly she was appraised by a loving hug from a complete stranger. A complete pregnant woman stranger with brown hair and somehow familiar brown eyes.
"Donna? Donna Noble?" The woman asked, studying Donna with bright eyes. 'Oh my God it's been far too long!"
"Do I know you? Not to be rude or anything, but do I?" Donna said, narrowing her eyes. There was a familiar smile on her face – yet her mind was suddenly struck by a young woman meeting her on holiday. 'Sam?'
"That's right!" laughed Sam, pressing her hand to her pregnant stomach as a sudden pang overtook her. 'Ooh sorry, slight pain...'
"Not going into labour are you?"
Sam shook her head, although her mind connected with her womb – warning her that she was indeed going into labour. 'How've you been?'
"I'm ok, divorced now..." she broke off. 'Are you sure...'
"Actually, I'm not..."

The Doctor spent a good half hour explaining to the angry Donna, that he was her brother rather than her husband who'd let 'a poor young girl go off venturing' before being finally able to retreat into the labour room where the anxious Angharad and Amy were watching.
All in all, it only took about three hours, much to Donna's joy, as well as The Doctor's relief. Assuming the role of the proud 'uncle' he'd nursed the baby, quickly discovering that the child had two heartbeats. Pride swelled idly in his chest, as the little one suckled on it's fingers.
"I thought you didn't approve of half-breeds," questioned the young Time Lord. She rested back. 'He's handsome isn't he?'
"Yes indeed, takes after his mother," he paused and planted a kiss on the grandchild's head. 'What're you going to do?'
"Settle down for a while." Trouble smiled. 'And you're going to carry on running?'
"Naturally."
As he turned to leave, he heard her voice resonating behind him. He turned to see her nursing his new grandson. His handsome new grandson.
John Dorian Smith.