A/N: I find myself bemused by the satellite images of Hurricane Earl churning his way up the east coast towards Cape Hatteras as I write this. I had seriously considered throwing a hurricane at my clan, but decided against it as unnecessary and superfluous to my various plot lines. Funny old world, though, isn't it? Maybe somebody's trying to change my mind?

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Courtyard

At last the month was drawing to a close, and the clan, determined to squeeze every last drop of fun from each remaining day, was spending every available hour on the beach. Even Wilf stayed out all day, though Sylvia insisted he keep out of the direct sun under the large canopy they'd found in the storage rooms and erected just beyond the dunes. The weather continued glorious; the typical summer afternoon thunderstorms they'd been warned of stayed far afield, finding other tourists to drown. The Doctor had decreed a sand castle building contest, and the various teams took turns out-doing each other with ever-more-elaborate confections. Finally, on the next-to-last day they converged on a single huge mound, working through the entire twelve-hour gap between high tides to create a miniature, eight-foot-high Mont Saint-Michel, overloaded with castles, cathedrals, and monuments. The incoming tide began licking at the Mont's foot just as the long-delayed storm clouds began rolling in, creating the ultimate dramatic backdrop for the multitude of photos snapped by several in the clan – and many more tourists from other beach houses who had strolled by and stopped to watch, and were invited to join in the fun.

Donna, among other mums in the crowd, had been keeping an eye on those clouds, and spied lightning in the distance just as the first sprinkles began falling, so she called a halt and herded everyone back to the steps after one last snapshot. The kids were dashing across the bridge to the house, running as always, when suddenly they stopped, sniffing the air.

"Is that smoke?" "What's burning?"

Framed against the sky on the other side of the breezeway, black smoke could be seen rising into the air. Everyone made a mad dash to the far railing, and the Doctor yelped wordlessly, sprinting down the stairs into the courtyard, Mike a beat behind him. He screeched to a halt at the bottom step, though, wilting in relief as his perspective on the scene below adjusted.

"You thought I was in the flames, didn't you?" Hannah asked him, an amused glint in her eyes. She was standing on the far side of a large bonfire laid on the Spanish tiles. Her son nodded, a bit sheepishly, then his gaze sharpened as he focused in on precisely what was burning at her feet.

Every one of her paintings was ablaze.

She turned to face him squarely as he walked swiftly across the courtyard, tearing his bewildered stare from the bonfire to search her face for the key to this apparent madness. He halted, gasping slowly, when he realized her gaze was clear and level, stripped bare of the wounded, bewildered pride that had haunted it these last years. A thousand questions came and died on his lips, but he settled for the simple query, "Mother?", packing a world of meaning into the one word.

"You were right," she told him, deliberately pitching her voice loud enough for the rest of the clan coming down the stairs behind him to hear, "about so many things. I cannot continue to waste my life pining away for the one thing I cannot have, can never have again. And you're right – the Ancient Gallifrey I've been trying to keep alive hasn't existed for millenia."

She looked past him towards his brother. "I'm sorry, Michael, for how I acted about your book. Among other things. You keep on writing about Gallifrey. Keep the stories, the memories alive, even if only in fiction. Perhaps it's better that way, anyway." He nodded back, mute, trying to resist acknowledging the subtext of her speech, but hearing it anyway. Is she saying goodbye?

Hannah looked back to the Doctor, reaching a hand to touch his cheek, pitching her next words for his ears alone. "And I'm sorry, Cavrio, for blaming you for its demise. You weren't to blame for the situation, nor should you be damned for the solution that saved the rest of the universe. That hell is reserved for Rassilon, and he exists in it now and forever. Please accept my apologies, and... and my forgiveness. And, Cavrio... forgive yourself, as well."

He shook his head at that. "I accept yours, Madame, but I can never forgive myself. It cannot be done. That's the inevitable price I must pay, and continue to pay, for what I have done. No one else can absolve me of it." He waved her off, and her protests died unsaid. "But what...?" he turned it back to her, waving a hand towards the flames consuming the incredibly realistic, masterful works of art she'd slaved over for the past three years.

"Gallifrey is burning," she replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I have to let it go. This is the only way I can do that." She looked up at him and Mike, slyly conspiratorial. "But I saved the best two, for the two of you. They're upstairs, still." Then, louder again, "I need a new perspective, and I cannot gain that here. River..." She stepped past her sons and over to the stairs, where the woman from the future stood staring. "You offered to allow me to accompany you when you leave here. If that offer is still open, I'd like to accept. I'm ready to see the universe. And I need to get away."

River smiled down at the Doctor's mother. "Of course it is. In fact, we can leave whenever you're ready."

A brilliant smile lit Hannah's face. "I'm ready now." She turned back to the Doctor again. "Get busy living, or get busy dying, you said. I'm ready to live."

Devastated, he followed her again. "Must you go?" he asked. "We've only just begun truly getting to know each other."

She nodded, a little sadly. "Yes. I must. I... I need to try my wings." She smiled at him again. "Don't worry. From what River has said, she has ways of finding you. We'll be together again."

He reached out then and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly for one long last moment. Startled, she hesitated, then hugged him back – and then reached one arm out to Mike, pulling him into the embrace. He went wordlessly, trying to ignore the small voice telling him that, contrary to the Doctor, he'd likely never see his mother again.

River turned to Jenny, a few steps above her. "Are you ready?"

"Actually..." came the hesitant reply. She took a deep breath. "I was hoping to stay around here for a while." She looked away at the Doctor, who raised his head from the group hug and smiled at her.

"Definitely," was all he said.

Jenny's turn to swivel; wanting to get permission from everyone involved. "Rose? Davey? Is it OK with you?" When both of them nodded, grinning, she took a deep breath – then let it out in a sigh as she turned back to River, obviously torn. "But..."

River held up a hand, forestalling her. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll meet again. I have it on the highest authority." At the blonde's puzzled look, she laughed, tilting her head to indicate the Doctor below. "He wasn't the least bit surprised to see us, and see us together, when we popped in on him up ahead. He asked us what brought us back 'so soon', remember?" Eyes twinkling, she repeated, "We'll be traveling together again."

Relieved, Jenny ran lightly down the three steps between them and threw her arms around her friend. River hugged her back, then looked past her shoulder to Rose above. "Thank you," she said softly.

Rose smiled back, a little wistfully. "You'll take good care of him up there?"

"As best I can." They shared a last rueful smile for the occasional difficulty of doing that. Then River gave Jenny a last squeeze and let her go, turning to descend the last few steps to Hannah's side. "Ready?"

Letting go of her sons at last, Hannah kissed each one on the cheek, then stepped back and turned to the others above her. "I'm sorry," she said simply to all of them together. Donna raised her hand in farewell, several others following suit, not entirely sure what was happening.

At last, Hannah turned to River. "Ready."

"Hannah," came the Doctor's cracking voice, then, "Lady Toshana." She turned back one last time, to see a tear escape down his cheek. He stood tall, and deliberately switched to Old High Gallifreyan, giving her the ancient blessing and farewell of their people. "May the winds of Time be ever at thy back, and some day blow thee safely back home."

Tears sprang to her own eyes, but she refused to dignify them with a sniff. Raising her chin, donning the almost-visible cloak of dignity befitting a Time Lady, she nodded regally before turning away again.

River had punched coordinates into her Time Jumper already, not bothering to give out their destination. She looked one last time at the Doctor, a dozen snappy River-esque exit lines visibly jostling for selection behind her eyes, but finally, all she said was, "I understand now. Goodbye, sweetie."

She took Hannah's hand, punched the button, and they were gone, flashing off into the unknown future just as an answering flash of lightning split the sky above, and the Cape summer rains began to fall at last.