Author's note: I am so sorry I haven't updated! I've just been mad busy with school! Please forgive! I promise I will not abandon this story and this chapter is totally worth a read!

New York- Our World

Maria Kline thumped her pen against the desk. She had been called in for an emergency meeting and ushered to a conference room. Two men were already seated at the long gray table. One, an Asian man in a three piece suit, worked in Research and Development. Maria didn't recognize the Caucasian man but thought she had seen him in the field. He was dressed head to toe in black.

"We've been waiting an hour!" the Asian man growled.

"No kidding, idiot," the other retorted.

Maria sighed with impatience. She, too, was annoyed by the situation. According to General Raze's secretary, the meeting was to start promptly at 1 o'clock. Maria glanced at her watch. 2:05. Where was General Raze?

The door creaked open and the Asian man jumped to attention. "Sir," he saluted.

General Raze was of imposing figure, with a steady gait and quick eyes. He sauntered to the table and stood rigid before his proffered chair. He didn't speak.

"Sir?" the Caucasian man asked. "Is everything alright?"

The General's eyes darted towards the man. He cocked his head like a dog that has heard a strange sound. "No," he finally answered. "Everything is not alright."

Maria watched the General slip a hand into his jacket and pull out an antique shotgun, Winchester, she presumed. What was he doing with an antiquated weapon? This was UNIT for crying out loud. They had the best, the newest, top of the line.

"Is that why we were summoned? For a shotgun?" The Asian man snorted. "It's not alien. What does it have to do with-"

Bang!

The Asian man slumped in his seat, his head smacking against the table with a sickening squelch. A pool of crimson blood begin to spread towards Maria. She was too scared to scream.

"What the hell?" The Caucasian man jumped out of his seat, eyeing the General with fear and confusion.

The General shifted his weight and aimed at the other man.

Maria watched in horror as the gun fired. She screamed and ducked under the table. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit the only speed dial number she could think of.

Heavy boots circled the table. Rough hands grabbed the woman and yanked her to her feet.

"Why are you doing this?" she cried.

General Raze grinned, peeling the skin from his left hand to reveal green, scaly flesh. "We like this planet. It now belongs to the Yaoulic."

Maria remembered now. Calla had warned her about an alien threat against Earth. And here they were, one of them anyway, with his amphibious hand round her throat.

With one swift movement, he snapped her fragile neck and Maria Kline's lifeless body dropped to the floor. Beside her immobile hand lay her cell phone, the timer ticking away. The caller id read one word: Calla.

Ipswich Camp- Parallel World

Parker's men had infiltrated the camp and released several hundred prisoners from the central barracks. Calla directed those in need of medical attention to the makeshift hospital outside the camp where Martha had set up shop. The able bodied assisted the Resistance soldiers with the liberation and the remaining Yaoulic soldiers who, it seemed, were determined to go down fighting rather than become prisoners of war.

As soon as she could get away, Calla sought out the Doctor. He had offered to lead one of Parker's teams into the laboratories. Calla shuddered. As a child, she had been subjected to experimentation and knew full well the "science" the Yaoulic practiced.

"Doctor!" Calla called as she rounded one of the tenements and came across a massive stone building pumping thick plumes of white smoke.

He looked up but did not acknowledge her. Calla bit her lip. The entire situation was just awkward and if he knew the whole truth it would probably kill him.

"Doctor," Calla joined him. He was leading a young woman, four months pregnant at most, to the medical tent.

Unsure of how to broach a conversation since the earlier revelation, Calla opted for a different report and jumped into Resistance soldier mode. "Status report?" she asked.

"One hundred and seventy-nine people on the ground floor, two hundred and six on the second."

He refused to say anything more. Calla was surprised. As far as she knew, he was never at a loss for words.

They dropped the woman off at the tent. The Doctor moved to head back into the camp but Calla stopped him. "Wait," she pleaded. "We have to talk."

He shoved his hands in his coat pocket and stared at her. Calla pitied him. After everything he'd endured, he didn't deserve this. Calla took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out like that. I should have told you, I just didn't know how. I mean, you love Mum and I know it had to be hard to leave her here again, especially with Dad, and I just didn't know how to break it to you without causing you pain."

He remained silent, but his expression softened. Calla continued. "It wasn't that I was afraid of revealing my identity. That's just confusing. I mean, what are we to each other? I never could figure that out. But I knew, if you knew my identity, then I'd have to tell you what happened to my parents and I just couldn't do that to you. I'd rather you remain blissfully ignorant, then you wouldn't be hurt."

"I don't know either," he said, running a hand through his spiked brown hair. "How we're related," he explained, seeing the confused look on Calla's face.

"Oh," Calla exclaimed. "Right. Well, I have a theory. Well, it was my parent's theory. Well, it's not really a theory so much as an… What?" Calla asked. The Doctor wore a strange smile.

"He really is me. You adopted my mannerisms," he grinned.

Calla's face fell. "He really was you."

The Doctor's eyes grew wide. "What?" he whispered.

"They're dead. My parents, they're dead. The Yaoulic killed them when I was five." Tears formed in Calla's eyes. One rolled down her cheek. She refused to look at the Doctor. She feared the expression on his face. Instead, she took his hand and kept talking.

"Anyway, our theory: Dad and you are one in the same, right? Except for the whole one heart, one life, no regeneration thing. Dad was half human but at the same time he was you, same looks, same body, all that good stuff. He was engineered half human, half alien. He was unique. And that makes me unique. His DNA didn't mix like it should have, so I was born half human, half alien."

The Doctor gasped. "If you're half human, half Timelord, then, technically, genetically, that makes me your father."