Once, he stood in this room and felt one of the most terrifying, most devastating moments of his life. Once, he stood in this room and felt one of the most exciting, most joyous moments of his life. He faced the death of his husband standing over that bed. He witnessed the miracle of his son's birth standing beside that table. His life ended and was reborn in that very room. It seemed like it had been doing that all along, and somehow he had never known. He had always been in in there and he could never leave.

What was happening this time? A beginning? An ending?

Would he ever escape that room?

Somewhere in the dark, a body stirred. Somewhere in the depths of that infinite ship, eyes opened. Somewhere silent enough where it could almost be forgotten, a quiet growl emerged.

"We need to take her to Torchwood."

The Doctor blinked and turned to his son. "No," he answered without thought. "We need to keep her close. The TARDIS will hide her."

"The TARDIS might be able to hide her but how do we hide the TARDIS?" Ganbri insisted. "If this Bad Wolf thing can track a human, then it can definitely track a ship and it's not exactly like the TARDIS blends in anywhere."

His head was hurting all of a sudden and he rubbed at his temples irritably. "Ganbri, be quiet."

"If this thing came from her then it knows that she would come to you for help. It will know that you'd try to hide her here. It was born from the TARDIS; do you really think it can't find it?"

He opened his eyes, prepared to demand silence, but the look on Ganbri's face stopped him. He knew that look—that determination. That simmering anger. He wasn't looking at Ganbri now. This wasn't the little boy that wanted to argue over what he was and wasn't allowed to do at school. This was a man that he hadn't seen in twenty-seven years.

He was looking at the Prowler.

The Prowler stood taller, squared his shoulders, kept his knees from locking in case he was required to move. The Prowler had eyes that accused him of so many things—arrogance and foolishness. Murder. Those eyes were accusing him still.

"Put it away," the Prowler said to him quietly, his gaze steady and his voice firm.

The Doctor hadn't noticed how suddenly the growling had grown until then. It was filling his ears and pushing at the insides of his skull, trying to break out. He turned away and ran his hands through his hair a few times, pacing a little as pushed everything back into place. The growl quieted down and gave way to silence. Somewhere, a monster closed its eyes and went to back to sleep hungry.

And when he looked back at the Prowler, he saw his son again.

"What makes you think it won't find her at Torchwood?"

"Jack has plenty of security systems in place," Ganbri answered quickly. "He allows some signals in and out with permission granted, but the place can be locked down to block everything. Not to mention that no one knows where it's actually located. I'm not even entirely sure that headquarters are on Earth. We get her there, shut down all unnecessary portals, and implement the highest measures of security."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "It won't last forever. It might not even last long."

"Nothing will," Ganbri shot back without hesitation. "Give me a better suggestion."

The Doctor smirked. Ganbri was, as ever, his father's son—simply impossible to argue with. He was older now, even if he was pretending not to be. The Nightmare's War had aged him and a full regeneration had not been enough to close the wounds that were inflicted. The Prowler and his angry, accusing eyes hid quietly beneath a thin veil and the Doctor wondered if he would ever really go away.

The door opened a moment later and Rose stepped back inside, smiling quite happily. The Doctor looked eagerly past her to spot Harry. He still looked dark and sullen, but he didn't look any angrier than he had before.

"We're taking you to Torchwood," Ganbri spoke up before anyone else had a chance. "You'll be safe there."

Harry glanced up, looking both a little surprised and pleased. Rose turned her eyes from Ganbri to the Doctor, looking slightly confused.

"Torchwood?"

"Safest place on Earth," Ganbri answered again before the Doctor had a chance to speak. "Well, if it is on Earth. We're not entirely sure. But that tells you how safe it is."

The Doctor tried his best to grin, hoping to ease any tension. "I think a visit with our dear Captain Jack is long overdue."

The thought of Jack seemed to perk everyone up a little and they immediately began to make their way through the TARDIS. The Doctor attempted to mentally reach out for his husband, but Harry remained closed off. The Doctor wasn't receiving any feelings of anger, which was a little comforting. It seemed that, for now at least, Harry just wanted to be left alone.

He opened the front doors of the TARDIS, exposing the small dark space of the garage it sat in. There were boxes of Christmas decorations piled against one wall, an old and very underused bicycle in the corner, Ganbri's snowboard was strapped to the ceiling, a few broken machines were waiting to be fixed near the door, and the false wardrobe sat beside the TARDIS herself, seemingly innocent. With Harry's car parked in there as well, there was very little room for a group of four to walk about.

Rose blinked at the scene as though she were in shock. "You've . . . got the TARDIS parked in a garage."

"Where else would we put it?" Harry muttered, pushing past her to approach the wardrobe.

"But . . . a garage means a house. You live in a house? Is that your car?"

"That one's Harry's car," the Doctor answered, suddenly feeling rather awkward again. "But yeah. You know, work and shopping and family visits and things."

Her brows locked together, looking more confused than ever. "Family visits?"

Suddenly Harry smacked one of his hands against the wardrobe, causing everyone to jump. "What exactly is so confusing to you? He got married and settled down. So, yes, there's a house and a garage and a car and people that we call family. There's even a back yard, if you can believe it. I've got a fucking flower garden, of all things! What has the universe come to?"

"Harry!" the Doctor cried out.

"She shows up out of nowhere to tell us about the universe-threatening situation that we have to deal with but then she wants to stop every five fucking seconds to question every little thing she sees. I mean, Jesus Christ, Rose, we're even wearing shoelaces!" Harry then put a balled up hand beside his head and opened it as if he were releasing something.

"Harry, stop it!" the Doctor scowled, crossing his arms. He wanted to look firm, but his curiosity got the better of him. He mimicked Harry's little movement with his hand and, while still trying to keep his scowl firmly in place, asked quietly, "What's that mean?"

Rose looked at him with an expression that was not even slightly amused. "That was my mind being blown. At the shoelaces."

"He learned that from his students," Ganbri said in a teasing voice. He moved past Rose and the Doctor, leaving the TARDIS to stand beside Harry and put a hand on his shoulder, likely trying to share some calming emotions. "Let's just get you settled in, Rose. I think I need to get my dad home for a nap before he gets any crankier."

"Watch it," growled Harry.

"I'm not the one throwing temper tantrums in front of strangers," Ganbri answered. His tone said that he had meant it to be a joke, likely trying to lighten the mood for Rose's sake, but the Doctor felt a strong telepathic push come from his son.

Stop.

For a brief moment, Harry looked a little embarrassed. He took a step back from the wardrobe, allowing Ganbri to open it and play host.

The Doctor could tell that Rose wanted to ask why they were going into a dingy, broken wardrobe, but it seemed that Harry's little outburst had startled her into silence for now. Ganbri was kind enough to offer an explanation as they squeezed inside, telling her that portals to Torchwood had been built in certain places for the convenience of the staff. Because no one ever saw the headquarters from outside, no one actually knew where it was. More importantly, Torchwood could not be located by outsiders observing known staff in public.

When the doors in the back of the wardrobe opened and revealed Torchwood, he heard Rose's breath hitch. Sometimes he forgot how impressive it was to look at. The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, with all sorts of impressive technology and Kelevra's bizarre experiments lining the way. And it was always so clean. How did Jack manage that?

"The Torchwood Institute is run by Captain Jack Harkness and is in the business of protecting Earth and its people from all extraterrestrial threats," Ganbri began to explain, as though he were running a tour. "Aside from the Captain, we have a crew of eight. That crew includes myself, Jack Nista, Annabelle Temple-Noble, Douglas and Celeste Burke, Declan Davies, Kevin Edwards, and Doctor Kelevra Presley. Torchwood is known to work in co-operation with, but is not affiliated with, the Unified Intelligence Taskforce and the free agents known publicly as Doctor John Noble, Professor Harold Mott, and Jenny Noble. Everything that you see, hear, or otherwise observe in Torchwood is strictly confidential and may not be discussed outside of this building or with anyone not directly affiliated with the Torchwood Institute."

Harry cast a sideways glance at Ganbri. "Are you done?"

"There's actually more to it but that's good enough." Ganbri shrugged his shoulders. "This way."

"I know how it works," Rose muttered, stepping forward and looking up at the ceiling high above her. "All top secret stuff. Don't touch anything 'cause it might kill you. I'm familiar."

"And watch out for the little guy with dark hair," the Doctor said with a wink. "He bites."

"Or the big one," Harry added, sounding dangerously close to making a joke. "He always finds a way to break something."

Ganbri suddenly veered left, towards a nondescript door. The Doctor had never seen what was beyond most of these doors –they were always closed and most were locked. Part of him expected to see something impressive when Ganbri opened it, but the room inside was plain. The lighting was softer than elsewhere in the building and, aside from a water cooler in the corner, the only furnishings were a rug in the center of the room with a chair on either side of it, facing each other.

"Banni, Tokrah, you can wait here."

"What? What do you mean?" the Doctor spluttered out, just as Harry began to make his own protests.

"At this point, this is official Torchwood business," Ganbri explained, using his professional voice again. "As consultants, I cannot allow you to attend any meetings regarding said business until you have been officially employed as consultants for this case. As I cannot give you that clearance myself—"

"Rubbish!" the Doctor protested. "Half the time we come here, we just show up!"

"I need to take Rose to speak to the Captain and brief him on the situation. I will follow his instructions from there and will notify you if Torchwood would like to employ you on this case."

Harry was glaring darkly at Ganbri, but was keeping his mouth shut. Rose stood behind Ganbri, peering over his shoulder at them with uncertainty but the Doctor was too irritated to try to reassure her. He was herded into the room by his own son, continuing to protest as Harry silently took a seat. Ganbri continued to rattle off a bunch of official sounding garbage about confidentiality and top secret clearance until, finally, he got to the point.

"In the meantime, the two of you will have to stay here and keep each other company," Ganbri said as he slowly backed out the door, then he smiled sheepishly and added, "Have a little chat."

And the door closed.

"Has he just put us in time out!?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "Have we just been put in a time out by our child?"

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "More me than you, I think, but yes."

"Well, that's just rude."

He paced back and forth a couple of times, glaring daggers at the door. Jack would have a good laugh about this. Rose would never be able to stop making fun of him. God knew what Donna would say if she found out.

"Sit down."

Harry's voice was gentler than it had been since Rose appeared but firm enough for the Doctor to know it wasn't a suggestion for the sake of his comfort. Half an hour ago, the worst was past them. Half an hour ago, all they had to think of for the future was healing and growing closer as a family. How had things changed so much in half an hour?

He sat down and leaned back in his chair, trying to look casual. It was odd to be in a room that provided no distractions. He had no real choice but to look at Harry. The only other thing he could really do was go to the cooler for water but standing back up now would just be too obvious.

"I didn't do this," he blurted out instead. "I didn't know she was in there. I had nothing to do with any of it."

Harry didn't really react. His dark eyes just watched, piercing. The Doctor didn't know what else to say under that gaze. He stammered a little, trying to think of what Harry wanted from him, until he suddenly remembered how Harry had been behaving just a few minutes before.

"And, you know, you were being very rude," he muttered, trying his hardest to keep his voice casual enough that Harry wouldn't take offense. "She came to us for help, not to have some sort of power struggle with you. She didn't even know you were here. What's she ever done to you?"

Harry leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his hands beneath his chin. "You traveled with her for two years," he said quietly. "In two years, you were more in love with her than you were with me after two hundred."

"That's hardly her fault," he answered quickly and without thinking.

Harry blinked slowly at him. The muscles around his mouth tightened a little. He was upset and trying not to show it.

"The person I was with her is not the person I am now, Harry," he continued, softening his voice a little. "If I wanted to be with someone else, I would be with someone else."

Harry paused for a moment, watching him carefully, before answering in a near whisper, "I know."

"That's not what I meant," the Doctor said quickly. "Harry, don't twist this. That's not what I meant and you know it."

"You wanted her once," Harry answered, keeping his voice quiet and calm. "You never got bored or stopped wanting to be with her. It wasn't your choice for her to leave. The same can't be said for me."

"Harry—"

"You've left me before," he interrupted, voice a little firmer now. "After two hundred years of spending every moment together, it didn't take much for you to lose all interest in me. It didn't take much for you to lose interest in her either, or the children. How many have you picked up and left behind since you left us on Gallifrey?"

"That's not fair, Harry."

"No, it wasn't."

He leaned forward in his seat then, bringing himself to Harry's eye level, mere inches from his face. "I was stupid. I made mistakes. You know how much I regret those decisions. What do you want me to say?"

Harry's eyes were far away and hard. "I want you to say that you will take care of your children this time. No matter what."

"Harry, no. No, no, no," the Doctor whispered repeatedly. He slid down from his seat onto his knees before his husband and placed a hand on either side of his face. "Don't say that sort of thing. I want to take care of you. I will take care of all of you. You're my family, as much as the kids. I love you, Harry. Don't you understand that?"

Harry mouth moved slightly as if to answer, but no words came. His eyes moved to look off to the side and the Doctor saw a slight glimmer in them.

"Listen to me," he said, using his hands to encourage Harry to look at him again. "Rose means a lot to me and she always will. She is my friend. But I married you. I did that because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and that hasn't changed, nor will it. We stay together, always. Do you understand me, Harry?"

He was averting his eyes again and tried to cover up a sniff before answering in a gruff voice, "Yeah."

"Stop trying to be so tough, you idiot."

That earned a half a smile and the Doctor took that as a cue to kiss him, long and slowly. He needed Harry to know that he meant it, every word.

After a moment, he moved to rest his forehead against Harry's with his hands still on his face, and breathed slowly. "I love you, Lahrre."

"I still don't have to like her," Harry grumbled in return.

The Doctor chuckled. "Okay."

Ganbri returned ten minutes later and found them both standing by the water cooler, sipping from paper cups and trying to pretend that they hadn't both been terribly emotional not long before.

That sheepish smile returned to Ganbri's face, half hiding behind the door, as he cleared his throat and said shyly, "On behalf of Captain Jack Harkness, I would formally like to ask for your—"

"You little bastard," Harry interrupted him, tossing his cup away and crossing his arms sternly. "You're getting a day without the car for every minute you left us in here."

The Doctor could see the relief wash over Ganbri's face. Harry's was acting more like himself again, the reassurance he'd been given helping him to shrug off some of his insecurities. "Jack wanted to see you, Tokrah," he said, and then added cautiously, "He thought it might be best if Banni sat down with Rose to update her on the situation in our universe."

Harry stiffened ever so slightly but, beyond a slight furrow of the brow, he kept his face calm and gave one stiff nod. "A lot has changed." Apparently, that was all he had to say on the matter.

Ganbri led them down the great tunnel that was Torchwood headquarters. The Doctor spotted Kelevra across the tunnel, his face peering around a doorframe and spying at them. No doubt he already had far more information than he was meant to.

Ganbri opened another door and held it open for him. He glanced a little nervously from the Doctor to Harry and back again, so the Doctor gave him a slight nod to let him know that everything was alright. Harry muttered something about seeing him at home and carried on walking before the door had even closed.

The room was a little more furnished than the last, though not by much. There was an identical water cooler in the corner, but this one had a rather old looking red couch beside it. In the middle of the room was a large, round table, much like what would be found in a cafeteria or an art class, with five plastic chairs around it.

Rose was sitting at the table with a glass of water and a small plate with some sort of microwaveable pizza snack. "I haven't eaten in seven hundred years," she said, smiling awkwardly. "That's what your . . . that's what Ganbri said. I'd been in that room for seven hundred years. It only felt like a minute. Seconds."

He nodded slowly, pulling out a chair across the table from her. "That boy you saw building the room was Ganbri. He went back to the first night that I had the TARDIS and built it in secret. That was seven hundred years ago."

"He said he was born in that room."

"He was."

"Yeah, but he said you and Harry are his parents. Biologically. Like, Harry actually gave birth to him."

"He did."

"How's that work then?"

"It's complicated," he answered with a smirk.

"Yeah, I figured you'd say something like that." She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, pizza snacks untouched. "What's he need to be doing stuff like that for anyway? Going back in time to build the room he was born in all in secret—what's that all about? And don't say it's complicated."

His smirk spread into a grin. "It's a long story."

She tried to look annoyed but she couldn't help cracking a smile. Instead, she dipped her fingers in her glass of water and flicked some at him.

"There's pictures of a little boy in Jack's office," she continued calmly, trying not to sound too interested.

The Doctor was just beginning to realize how much would need to be explained. "Yeah, that's Nista—uh, Jack—um, well, we call him J.J. but Ganbri often tells me we shouldn't call him that anymore. Says it's a kid's nickname or some rubbish."

"Not a little boy anymore then?"

"No." He shook his head. "Two years younger than Ganbri."

Rose took a deep breath and blinked several times as if in disbelief. "Well . . . you lot got very busy after I left, didn't you?"

He frowned a little, unsure of why exactly she suddenly looked so uneasy. "Rose?"

She smiled apologetically. "It's just . . . well, it was, what, a year?"

He frowned a little deeper. "It was about ten seconds for you. I hadn't even left yet."

"But it was you!" she protested quickly. "I mean, where'd you meet Harry? At some Tesco's on the way back from dropping me off, you meet the grumpiest man the world has ever seen and you just think 'yup, that'll do'? He's so—sorry," she suddenly interrupted herself. "Sorry. It's not my business. I'm sure he's perfectly . . . I'm sure he has good qualities."

It was concerning and yet amusing at the same time to see her so irritated about Harry. He had hoped to save the explanations of Harry until a later time, as his identity was probably what would be the most shocking of all of it, but it seemed now was the appropriate time.

He put his elbows on the table to lean forward and spoke slowly. "Rose, I didn't just meet Harry after we parted ways. We've known each other for a very long time. I thought he had died. Finding him alive and getting to spend time with him again made me realize how much I had missed him . . . Truthfully, I was heartbroken when we found each other. He helped me, he made me feel like myself again, and he made me happy in a time when I didn't think that was possible. Falling in love with him was really inevitable."

She couldn't help but smile a little. "Well, there must be something half decent beneath that scowl of his. You never used to talk like that."

"I suppose not."

"You've grown soft."

He smiled. "I've changed."

She smiled again and picked up one of her pizza snacks, taking a bite of it and glancing up at the ceiling. "So, if he's so special, why didn't you two get married when you first met him?"

"I was different then. He was different then." He took a quick breath. "Rose, Harry didn't always go by the name Harry. Before we got together and came to Earth, Harry used to call himself . . . the Master."

She blinked at him a few times and he waited. Waited for her mouth to drop open, or for her to shout, or even for her to throw the pizza at him.

Instead she took another bite. "What, is that like a prison thing? Because that would make a lot of sense."

She didn't know.

It was the Doctor's turn to blink in confusion.

She didn't know.

He folded his hands on the table top and smiled. "Why don't you tell me about James?"

She forced a smile and continuing chewing for a moment, swallowing before attempting to answer. "James is . . . his own person. He struggled after you left. You said he was just the same as you, but he wasn't. It was hard for him. It was hard for both of us really."

He frowned, deeply. "Sorry, I just assumed. Are you . . . are you not together?"

"No, we are," she answered quickly. "But we weren't. Not always. We tried at first but it didn't work. He was really confused and . . . unsure. He didn't understand his own body—he hated it—and he couldn't seem to make up his mind about what we should call him. Some days, he'd do his hair up like you and call himself the Doctor and act just like you always did. Then, the next day, he'd dress differently and talk differently and insist that we call him John."

"But you call him James."

"After a couple of months, he decided that he couldn't be John. He said that you call yourself John when you're pretending to be human. From what Ganbri said, I guess he was right, Doctor John Noble." She smiled again, but this time it looked a little sad. "He was going to use Noble too. He never said why he changed it, but I guess he knew you might take that name too. Anyway, he eventually decided on James Donnason. Then it was a lot of back and forth between being James and being the Doctor, which meant there was a lot of back and forth between him being in love with me and us being strangers. He was like that for four years."

The Doctor felt a sinking feeling in his chest and he hurt for her. He'd thrown a man wearing his face at Rose, swearing they were the same—a lie so good that even James had had a hard time giving it up. He never thought much about what would happen afterwards. He imagined they'd just go off and be happy together, but the man who was meant to be the Doctor realized he wasn't the Doctor after all—a complete identity crisis. And Rose was in the middle of it, wondering if she was loved or not.

"I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say.

"You should be," she answered back quickly in what sounded almost like a hiss. "Why would you do that to him? Did you ever even think?"

"Not really," he admitted.

She took a moment to compose herself, placing the pizza carefully back on the plate in front of her. "After four years, he showed up at my mum's house with this book—Frankenstein. I'd never read it but he was really excited about and kept saying I had to, so I did—boring as hell, mate, I tell ya—and then he told me that he knew who he was. He said that you were Frankenstein and he was the monster. He said that you made him and just let go of him. You dropped him in some other universe because you didn't like what he did and then you ran away and left him alone with no name and no idea what to do with himself."

He swallowed hard, trying not to let the sudden rush of shame engulf him. Victor Frankenstein was the villain in a story of confusion and suffering—a villain out of pure irresponsibility, neglect, and denial. That was how the Master was born too. How had he made the same mistake again?

Rose saw the look on his face and looked away, continuing. "After that, he was always James. He never called himself the Doctor again. He tries to avoid talking about anything before he was made, because they aren't really his memories. We started spending a lot of time together while he figured himself out. Eventually, he asked me out for dinner and we started dating from the start like real, proper people do. Well, almost. We've been together for six years now, with a few empty spaces here and there. It's been hard—really hard—but we make it work."

He caught himself glancing at her hand for a ring. She saw him and raised her hand up.

"He doesn't want to get married, or at least he says he's not sure about it. Doesn't want kids either. For some reason, I kind of expected that you'd be the same, even after all these years of James trying to prove that he's different. I don't know why I was surprised at all."

He smiled weakly. "To be fair, I usually take a very long time to commit. And, doing it again for twenty-seven years, I'm still not entirely sure that I know how to be a father."

"It's not that."

He looked at her curiously. From the way her eyes suddenly gathered a thin layer of tears and the way she swallowed hard before she spoke, he already knew what she was going to say next before she even said it.

Of course. He was human after all.

"He's sick."