He was up off of the bed in an instant, pointing the sonic at me defensively. "Who're you?"

"Seriously?" I asked him, putting my hands on my hips. "Has it really been that long that you don't even recognize your own daughter?"

He looked at me in shock. "What? You're not my daughter!" he denied. "My daughter's eight years old! She's all little… and curly hair… and she definitely doesn't carry a gun!" he said, pointing to the Alpha-Meson blaster in the shoulder holster that I was wearing. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but it was the only way I had to carry the thing with the get-up that I was wearing.

"Well guess again, old man." I said, glaring at him. "Because you're late - again."

"How late?" he asked, still seemingly in denial - and I really didn't blame him for that. In his mind, I was still the little eight year old girl who only saw the good in the universe

"Twenty-four years late."

8888

The Doctor's P.O.V.

I looked over the person in front of me,trying to reconcile the image of my daughter with her.

She was around one and three-quarter metres tall, with blonde hair pulled up into an elaborate knot on the top of her head, and a miniature black top hat with blue feathers perched on her head. As I looked over the rest of her clothes, I saw that she was dressed for Victorian times, in a white blouse, blue waistcoat, black cape, and long black skirt. Either she was just heading for an adventure in Victorian times, or she had just returned from one… which meant…

"Where did you get this?" I asked, going over and grabbing her wrist, inspecting the Vortex Manipulator sitting on it.

As she answered my question, I was reminded of something I had heard a lifetime ago - back when I was in pinstripes and trainers:

"It was my Mum's.

"You know where." she retorted, crossing her arms. "Mum gave it to me, stupid."

That hurt more than I was willing to admit, but I brushed it aside for now. Because something wasn't adding up.

"You said I've been gone for twenty-four years." I said, and the woman - who I had realized was in fact my daughter after all - nodded. "That's not right. That can't be right."

"And why not?" she asked, even as a little white weasel came out from under the hem of her skirts. I smiled, bending down to pet Rosie, before she hissed and swiped at me, cutting my finger with her little claws.

I jumped up, sticking the hurt finger into my mouth and sucking on it. "Because, you look like you're nineteen."

"Yeah, I've aged well. So what?" she asked, clearly uncomfortable with where I was going.

"So… if it had really only been twenty four years, you would still look like you were twelve, Mira." I said, giving her a stern look. "So I'll ask you again: how long has it been?"

She sighed. "Ninety-eight years." she admitted grudgingly. But then she smirked - a smirk I recognized, and that scared me. It was the same smirk that my Amelia would have right before she would go off on a rant about something. It was the same smirk that… that River would get right before she pulled out her gun and started shooting - or before she would pull me into a closet and, well…

In short, that smirk always meant trouble, in three generations of Pond women.

"Where's Mum?" she asked me.

8888

Catherine's P.O.V.

"Where's Mum?" I asked him.

His smile was gone in an instant, and replaced with a tired look.

"Mummy's… gone, Catherine." he said softly, talking to me like I was still a Time Tot.

Dad sighed, and that was when I first noticed that he looked… different. A lot older than I was used to, even though he still had the same baby face that Mum had always liked to tease him about. It was like his age was clearly shown in his face for the first time. He was even dressed differently. Normally he wore a light coloured shirt, with red suspenders and a matching bow tie, and a tweed jacket, and his hair kind of fell in his face a bit, and was very poofy - like something an old man would wear, which really didn't fit with his baby face.

But now he wore a pale purple shirt under a lavender waistcoat, which was under a big dark purple woolen coat. His hair even looked different - it was slicked back, and looked all shiny. He looked like he was as ready for a visit to Victorian England as I was.

"How about I tell you a story, hey, Catherine?" he asked me, and I rolled my eyes.

"How about you stop treating me like a child?" I countered. He looked hurt, and for a moment I almost apologized. Then I remembered what he had done - he had gotten my Mum killed, and abandoned me for ninety-eight years. He didn't deserve an apology.

"Picked up anyone else yet?" I asked instead. "Drew in another pretty young thing, telling her how you'd show her the universe, all of time and space?" he hesitated, then ignored the question completely, which basically told me all that I needed to know.

"Why don't I tell you that story?" he said. "I'll tell you what, I'll even tell you the story of how I met your Mummy."

That caught my attention. I had begged him to tell me that story all the time when I was a kid, but he always said that it wasn't the right time yet - that he would tell me it when I was older. Now apparently I was old enough to hear it, and while that should have made me happy, it didn't. Because now I knew better.

I nodded, and he began. "Once upon a time, a very long time ago, when I was traveling with Donna Noble, I got a message on the psychic paper. It was a call for help, and it said,

The Library. Come as soon as you can. X

Now of course, I was curious! Naturally, after all it's me! Call me the King of Curiosity - actually, no, don't call me that, that's a rubbish title."

I rolled my eyes, even though I was secretly glad that he was at least acting a bit more like he usually did. "Then what happened?" I asked him, sitting down in the large overstuffed armchair that was in the corner.

"Then, we went to the Library, of course!" the Doctor said. "And once we were there, who would appear but your mother." He smiled then, but it was full of longing and pain. "She was an enigma, wrapped in a paradox and combined with a contradiction… infuriating and endearing…" he sighed. "And absolutely perfect, even if it took me far too long to realize it."

8888

It took Dad several hours to finish telling the whole story, but by the time he was done he wasn't even talking right - he was talking almost like a robot, like he was trying to force the words out.

"And that's how I met your mother, Catherine." he finished quietly, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"So you mean that the whole time you knew Mum, the entire time you were married, you knew how she was going to die?" I asked, and the sound of my own voice scared me a little. It was cold and emotionless, and hard as stone. "That is cruel. Even for you, that is cruel."

He flinched away from me, and for a moment I wanted to comfort him, but then I caught sight of my Mum's favourite heels - her ruby red pumps - out of the corner of my eye, and rage swept over me once more.

"I couldn't." he said miserably. "I had to keep the timelines secure. River - " he swallowed heavily. "Your mum, she… she made me promise not to change one line."

I couldn't even look at Dad - no, the Doctor. He wasn't my Dad. If he was, he would have tried to save Mum.

"I hate you." I said quietly. "I mean, at first I was just cross because I thought you had forgotten about me. After all, I've grown up on the stories! Aunt Sarah, Mum, Amy - you left all of them behind! But you always came back, as long as they were patient. And so I thought that that was all that I needed to do, be patient." I was up out of the chair and pacing by that point, while Rosie had stolen the spot I had vacated. I turned to the Doctor, pointing an accusing finger at him. "But you didn't forget!" I cried. "You purposefully left me behind - why? So you wouldn't be reminded of what happened?"

I didn't even give him a chance to respond. "Well guess what, old man?" I sneered. "You can go right back to not giving a damn about me. Because I am done. I'm not spending the rest of my lives waiting for you like so many others. Goodbye." I turned around to head out of the TARDIS, planning on stopping to collect a few things from my old room and the TARDIS wardrobe, when he called out to me.

"Catherine, please." he begged, and I turned to look at him.

"Catherine's gone, Doctor." I said quietly. "She left a long time ago. I'm called the Angel these days, not that you'd know that. After all, you weren't really there to find out." And with that, I left.

A/N~ Thank you to those who reviewed - Mermaid1108 and Guest, you guys rock!

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