A/N: Takes place after Darillium for the Doctor, assuming that it happened after TATM. Pre-The Snowmen.

As I am American, I apologize for all the Britishisms I am not familiar with.

Doctor Who belongs to the BBC.

"Look, don't worry about it. We'll be fine… yes… uh-huh… yes." Phone balanced between the side of his face and his shoulder, Craig Owens bustled through his living room, warily eyeing his two-year-old storm of a son as he toddled around the coffee table. "Yes, now don't worry about us. You tend to your Gran. Make sure she's okay. Have a safe flight. Call me when you get there. All right? Bye… Love you too."

After promptly ending the call and shoving the phone back into its cradle, the worn-out father couldn't help but let loose a sigh. Sweaty palms ran through short-cropped hair, and weary eyes clenched shut for a few seconds of futile rest.

It wasn't often that Sophie left her boys. However, Sophie's grandmother, who resided in America, had been taken to the hospital in critical condition, and it was of utmost importance that Sophie be there, of course. The situation was incredibly unfortunate, and Craig felt for his girlfriend.

To add to the list of unfortunate news, Craig had also just been let go from his job the week before. He had spent the past several days helping around the house while scouring the newspapers, tracking down at least some form of work. Sophie assured him that everything would fall into place eventually, but the stress of it all nagged away at his mind.

To top it all off, there was… that day.

Craig once again ran his hands over his face and reassessed the situation.

Sophie would be gone. Gone for prospectively no less than the time span of a month. A long, dreary, utterly depressing month. A month that Craig would spend by himself, alone with only his bumbling and gurgling Alfie to keep him company. No Sophie in sight to help him with the dishes, the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the baby-sitting… the list continued down a hopelessly never-ending track…

…but overall, lonely… terribly lonely, with no work to keep him busy, with the only person he wanted to be with off dealing with a dire and depressing situation.

And most pressing was the fact that it was all so soon. So soon before… that day. The day that lay less than a week away from the end of this inevitably long and lonely month.

He'd be lying if he said he weren't also a tad bit frightened.

A bump and a terrifyingly ominous giggle awakened Craig from his reverie, and he quickly darted to where his son was clumsily attempting to lift a rather hefty hardback novel. Strong hands wrapped around the small boy before he could get himself hurt.

"Now Alfie, I'm going to need you to do both of us a favor and be on your best behavior." Craig studied his son as the toddler gazed in every which-way besides his father's stern yet flustered face.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the company that Alfie provided. The past two years of parenting had provided Craig with enough experience to safely manage a mischievous baby, but this sudden surprise of a month with no constant companion was… well, a surprise.

The whole predicament was rather stressful for him. With a dejected shake of his head, Craig adjusted the boy in his arms.

Yes, Craig was stressed, scared, lonely. He'd been faced with killer alien spaceships and terrifying robots from a different galaxy, yet a month alone had him ready to pull his hair out.

"I know the last time we were left to ourselves was quite an adventure," Craig's thoughts drifted to Cybermen in the shopping mall, "but this time, we just need everything to go… smoothly. No catastrophes, no life-threatening situations, no big messes to clean up…" Craig couldn't help but let his gaze drift to the window. It had been so long since they'd seen the Doctor…

He shook his head in dejection. What was he hoping to find? Help? A distraction to cheer him up?

"No adventures for us. Nobody else, either. Just you and me and a quiet month… Alone."

The days wore by. He did the chores. He cooked. He cared for Alfie. All by himself. Alone.

By day three, he had sunken into the routine. He couldn't help but pity himself as he longed for when Sophie would finally be back and he would finally have his companion with him.

… because what was the point of the routine if there was nobody to share it with?

He knew that he was being insensitive, but the loneliness continued to drill into him.

Craig dared another glance out the window, though he didn't know why he bothered. No aliens to keep him company. No doctor to help and make things suddenly better. With a huff, he continued dusting the furniture, and the day sunk into nighttime.

He hated being alone.

A week had come and gone. Then he heard it.

He hadn't been expecting it. Of course he hadn't been expecting it; the world was just keen on surprising a certain Craig Owens into a stressed sort of stupor.

He hadn't been hoping for it. Okay, that was somewhat of a lie. Ever since ridding the shopping mall of the Cybermen, he had hoped just a little that the Time Lord would drop by for a visit sometime, but that hope inevitably lugged the wariness that rightfully came with every appearance of the certain time traveler.

All in all, Craig was plastered still when he heard the unmistakable sound of time machine engines at work. He had just finished putting Alfie to bed, and the last thing he was expecting to hear was that wonderfully impossible sound.

But it was real. It was unmistakable. He was here.

Barely stifling down a gasp (of excitement or apprehension, he did not know), Craig quickly stumbled down the stairs and to the front door. He turned the doorknob with shaky hands and promptly yanked the door open.

"Doctor!"

His exclamation was met with silence, for he was greeted by nothing more than a set of closed blue doors and a "Pull to Open" plaque. The impossible man had parked his time machine directly in front of the front door. With a shake of his head, Craig waited a few seconds for the Time Lord to present himself.

However, the seconds ticked by, and yet not a sound escaped from within the TARDIS.

"Doctor?"

It was then that Craig noticed that the police box's doors were already cracked open. Moving his head, he peered inside to see a dim orange ambiance. He'd always wondered what the time machine held within…

"Doctor?" he called once again, quieter this time. Craig's sense of apprehension continued to grow as he warily stepped forward and pushed the doors open.

The inside… it was bigger on the inside. Of course, he had already known that fact, but it was all so different seeing it first-hand. However, his mind could only briefly process this phenomenon as his eyes quickly spotted his friend sitting on a set of stairs directly before him. Craig found that he could not wipe a smile from his face.

"Doc—" and yet again, his expectations were shot to the ground, and his smile faltered into nonexistence.

It was undoubtedly the Doctor, but the tweed was gone, replaced with an open wrinkled dress shirt revealing a white undershirt atop a pair of creased black slacks. A tuxedo jacket with tails lay crumpled on the glass floor a few feet away. Further off, a top hat lay on its side, seemingly cast off without a care. The usual cheery and whimsical bowtie was nowhere to be seen.

As for the Doctor himself, the man sat on the bottom step, his lanky form leaning pathetically against the railing. Long legs lay seemingly lifeless in an awkward and uncomfortable pose. Bony hands wrung themselves together. A head sporting a new yet disheveled haircut hung downward, hiding a face that Craig dreaded to see. The Doctor made no motion to acknowledge that he even noticed the other man had entered.

Craig stood frozen at the threshold of the ship, unsure of how to react. Of all the impossible things that the Doctor trailed along with him, he hadn't been expecting this.

After overcoming his initial shock, Craig gingerly shuffled over to his friend, wary to not startle the man. He slowly knelt before the Time Lord and looked into his face.

The face was just as heart-wrenching. Chapped lips cracked open, letting dry wisps of breath to escape and suck in. Clammy skin paled into a plainly unhealthy color. Eyes painfully red and just terribly… lifeless.

"Doctor?" he practically whispered. He didn't know what to say, so he spoke with nothing more than the earnest concern that he had. "Doctor? What's wrong? Please tell me what's going on."

Those empty green irises flicked upward and took in the sight of Craig for the first time; however, there were no widened eyes of surprise, no smiles of sweet reunion. There was a hollow recognition, yet nothing more.

It was a few moments before stiff lips finally formed words, and even so, the words formed were barely louder than a hoarse whisper.

"Craig?" The Doctor let in a few more quiet yet ragged breaths before finding the heart to continue. His words were slow, a forced and breathy whisper. "What are you doing… here?"

The other man forced a friendly smile. "I should be asking you," he replied, attempting to inject some form of light-heartedness into the room. When met with only empty eyes and silence, the smile soon disappeared. Craig placed an assuring hand on his friend's shoulder. The fact that the gesture garnered no form of a reaction disturbed him, for the Doctor was impossibly stiff and cold, seemingly lifeless. Green eyes seemed to stare past him.

"Come on. Let's go inside." He paused. "Into the house, I mean. A good cuppa would do you good." He was once again met with no response as the Time Lord only continued to stare, and Craig could feel part of himself breaking inside.

"Just come with me."

Nothing.

"Please."

There was a sharp intake of breath, like the latter half of an unfinished sob, and the empty stare was once again directed downwards to the floor. Craig felt that his attempts to help were going nowhere. However, he gently lifted one of the other man's arms and wasn't met with any protests. In fact, the only opposition he felt as he lifted the Doctor's arm over his shoulder was the alien's dead weight.

For a moment, Craig awkwardly attempted to lug the other man from off the staircase, but some form a consciousness must have clicked because the Doctor soon managed to weakly hold up some of his weight. The two managed to slowly hobble out of the TARDIS's doors and into Craig's home.