"Daddy?"

Receiving no response from the reading Time Lord, the young child frowned. He wasn't accustomed to this. Usually, whenever he spoke, his father would eagerly take in every word. He was the center of his father's universe, and he knew it. He relished it. He sometimes exploited it.

He didn't like being ignored, or unheard.

This had become common over the last few days. His dad would come back from working with the human captain, swing him around or talk to him for a while, and then he'd retreat into his own mind. Gabriel knew that he liked to think a lot - after all, so did the boy himself - but he didn't understand why his father was thinking so much lately. What was there to think about here?

He didn't even know why they were still here. The man who stayed with him all day was mean and boring, and all he ever did was just stand there. Sometimes he would sit at the desk and pretend to be working on something. Gabriel knew better. The man just didn't want to talk to him, which was fine with the boy. He didn't want to talk to him either.

The mud had been fun the first few days, and he did like mud, but even that had now lost it's joy. It wouldn't be so bad if there were colour here; bright colours. How the young heart longed for colours. The brightest colour here was the blue of the Tardis.

That was another thing the boy didn't understand. Why was the Tardis just sitting in a corner, all locked up and alone? Since they were staying here, they colour still live aboard the Tardis. It had his room. It had his toys. It had his bed.

And there were colours there.

"Daddy," he tried again, stretching out the last syllable with an impatient whine and tugging on the brown fabric of his father's jacket. This time, the Doctor looked up. Or rather, down; down at the brilliant, inquisitive eyes staring back up at him.

"Yes, Gabey?" he answered, not setting down the newspapers he had been going over. He had hoped that perhaps there would have been mention of more sleeping dead from somewhere else, or another sign to point him closer to the culprit. So far, no success.

"When can we go?" Gabriel asked, rising up to his tip toes to try to read the newsprint spread over the desk. Reading was an art he hadn't yet quite mastered, but he was proud of the words he did know. Showing off to his father and getting praise was something he enjoyed quite immensely.

"Go where?" The Doctor asked absently, reading over the headlines on the following page. There still wasn't anything that stood out.

"To somewhere fun and colourful."

The Doctor stopped. Setting down the paper, he took off his glasses and looked at his son sadly. Gabriel's inquiring and wonderful eyes looked back at him, pleading to leave, yet with little understanding of the situation. How he wished he could make the boy understand, yet at the same time he hoped that Gabriel never would.

He didn't speak, but smiled sadly and scooped the four year old into his arms and lifted him onto his lap. Holding him close, the Doctor closed his eyes and wished that leaving were as simple as his son seemed to think.

Gabriel frowned, but was quiet and still. He had his father's attention, which he liked, but he still hadn't been answered.

He didn't like that.

"I've talked to all the men here," Jacob stated, handing a notebook to the Doctor, who took it. "I told them I needed their background information for files the government was collecting. I can't believe one of them is an impostor."

The Doctor flipped over the first page, his eyes scanning the messy scrawl. Writing legibly wasn't one of Captain Turner's strong points. "One of them is."

"Their stories are solid, the information is detailed," Jacob argued, but the Doctor nodded.

"Which we expected. These aliens are clever. Do you really think they wouldn't be prepared to answer such questions after going through the trouble of disguising themselves to look like you?" The Doctor asked, flipping over another page. "Their purpose is to get you to trust them."

"All of them have full names, parents, siblings, girls, wives, some even have children!" The Doctor pitied them especially; the thought of never seeing your child again was terrible, the reality was even worse. This he knew from experience. "I have dates, medical history, dates of births, weddings…"

"And one of them might be too perfect," The Doctor stated, reading through the writing but not absorbing the bulk of it. "It really is quite difficult to tell them apart."

Children. Gabriel. His little angel. The mention of children had only reminded him of the very thing he'd been trying to forget.

He could still lose him. Yet, he couldn't leave this era. He was needed here, yet Gabriel needed him too. Could he abandon these poor people just to keep his son safe? He loved humans, but his son definitely took priority above anything else.

Yet he couldn't leave them. He could however spend more time with his little boy.

He glanced out the door. The daylight was fading fast as night approached once more. Maybe tonight, if it seemed safe enough, he'd take Gabriel to another spot where he'd be able to see the stars. Maybe the child would even remember some of the ones he'd seen closer.

He stood. "I'm going to take this back to where we're staying. I'd like to be with my son, and it is getting late."

It was later then he had thought.

Walking through the doorway, he saw the young, action thirsty soldier asleep at the desk. His thin chest heaved up and down with slow, deep breaths from being lost in a deep slumber. The Doctor frowned. Well, at least the desk was by the door. If someone came in intending to do harm, the soldier would be noticed first.

Around the corner, Gabriel lay asleep too. By the candlelight, the Doctor smiled at the sight of his son's dimly lit face. He'd never tire of seeing Gabriel asleep. Ever. He had hoped that the boy would be awake, but he didn't dare disturb the boy's sleep.

Every time he blinked, the tiny Time Lord seemed to be just a little bit bigger, just a little bit older. With each day that crept by, he could see more of himself showing through in the young boy, yet he could see Missy as well. More thrilling still, he loved whenever Gabriel drew his own conclusions, formed his own ideas as to how the world and universe should be.

As much as it excited him to see the person his son was becoming, he wished he could stall time every so often. Just for a little while, just so he could enjoy the age his son was for just a little long. But he couldn't do that to his boy. It wouldn't be fair.

With a smile, he tenderly brushed Gabriel's bangs away from his forehead.

The smile disappeared immediately.

He pressed his palm against the boy's forehead.

Ice cold.

Gabriel didn't stir.

The whole dug out heard his anguished screams.

A/N: Sorry this took so long D: Gabriel's been really hard to write lately. That, and my mind's been taken over by Merlin stories. If you like Merlin, check em out :D