It was getting dark outside when Alina left the medical bay. She hugged Martha, thanked Owen, and then went to gather her belongings. The building lockdown had been lifted, but as it was creeping into evening most people would just return tomorrow morning. Security still lingered in the lobby. Kate had gone home, as had Osgood. They hadn't been present during the birth—Owen, Martha, and Alina had agreed earlier that month to keep as few people in the room as possible—but Kate and Osgood had still remained in the building. Kate, because she had the highest authority over Hally's care, and Osgood, in case anything went awry with the device around Hally's neck.
Alina didn't think O would have left yet. She wasn't exactly looking for him, more just keeping an eye out—hoping to catch him before she left. She wasn't entirely sure why. He'd held it together throughout, but he'd slipped away without a word after Hally left with Jack. She'd considered the possibility that he'd followed them, but a hunch told her he was still in the building.
She wasn't exactly looking for him.
But checking in seemed like a good idea.
Watching the birth of your daughter while your wife held onto you while simultaneously having no idea who you were, only to be interrupted by her father—who you've historically hated? The Master might pretend to be endlessly in control, but that had to have rattled him at least a little.
Alina slipped into security room 4. It was empty; with them being on skeleton security only. She briefly glanced through the building's cameras.
Okay, she was exactly looking for him.
That was definitely what she was doing.
But she couldn't see him on the cameras, which meant either he had left, was hiding in a toilet cubicle—which didn't feel very Master-like—or he was in the chapel. She decided to check. Just a quick look. If he wasn't there, she'd leave.
The chapel was only a few corridors away from where they'd all just been. It was possible.
She hovered in the doorway, gently easing it open silently.
He was there.
O's clothes, the dark grey suit trousers, white shirt, and dark burgundy jumper were so out of place, so unassuming compared to the man beneath them. He hadn't turned when she entered, though she knew he'd heard her. He stood at the far end of the room, leaning, almost hunched, against the altar rail, head bowed. She didn't think for a second that he might be praying. He wasn't. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, his hands clutching the railing so tightly his knuckles whitened. A slight tremor ran up his arms, barely noticeable, but there.
She didn't approach. She watched for a few moments longer.
Approaching The Master wasn't always the smartest move.
The tremor could have been anger, but it didn't seem likely. Perhaps he was angry at The Doctor, but The Master wasn't one to suffer his anger in silence. If he were truly furious, things would have been broken by now, perhaps things, perhaps people. His posture, the way he clung to the railing like it was the only thing keeping him upright—this didn't look like anger. It was something else.
Taking a few quiet steps forward, Alina stopped just short of being within arm's reach. She waited. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge her presence.
His head dropped further, and when he finally spoke, his voice cracked through the silence. "Go away." It was barely above a whisper, a wounded growl.
That was when she recognised it—pain.
He appeared so small.
Just a man.
A man, barely holding himself together.
There was no point in asking if he was okay. It was obvious he wasn't. There weren't any comforting words she could offer him. Instead, she placed her hand gently on his shoulder. She expected him to shake her off, but he didn't. His only reaction was a brief tension across his back, which eased after a few moments.
The Master was losing control. His fingers gripped the railing like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
"I have to go," he muttered, his voice regaining a hint of his usual sharpness. He straightened slightly, turning his head away from her as he rubbed his face with both hands.
Alina let her hand drop from his shoulder. "The building is empty. You can stay as long as you need..."
He shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him. "No. I can't be here." His voice wavered. "Near her. I can't…" He trailed off, frustration growling in his throat as he braced himself against the railing again, then pushed away from it and stood up straight. Finally, he turned to look at her.
"I can't stay." His voice was steadier now, but his eyes betrayed him. "I thought I could. I thought I could… be O, with her until she didn't need me. But I can't."
She didn't speak. She simply watched him.
"Because you were right." His words were bitter, a growl through clenched teeth. "She'll figure it out. But it's not—" He laughed darkly. "I can't do it. I can't stand being near her. I can't stand just watching. Not when every single moment I'm burning. Every cell in my body is burning to touch her. To hold her. To have her." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a wild mess. "And now it's worse. Now there's our daughter. My Lilja. And I can't… touch… her."
His eyes blazed for a moment before the bitterness returned. "She'll figure it out. She'll know, because whether I want to or not, I will tell her. I will show her. I have to leave."
Alina nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "O can't just disappear. She'll notice. Everyone will notice."
The Master hummed in agreement. "I'll move. Far. As far as I can get, on Earth. But not close. Because if I'm not on the other side of this stupid little planet, I'll take her." Something dark and uncontrolled flashed behind his eyes.
Alina bit her lip, considering. "Then that's what you do. Stay here—on Earth—but as far away from her as possible. She can still have O—she can call, text, whatever—but she can't see him again."
The Master closed his eyes, processing her words. After a long pause, he gave a sharp nod.
"No goodbyes," she finished quietly.
His gaze hardened, and he nodded again, resolute.
Hally needed to kick Jack out of her house.
He'd been there for seven days.
It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the help—she really, really did.
She was thankful that her Time Lord half didn't need all that much sleep, because she was barely getting any. And Jack? Somehow, Jack was a wizard with her daughter. Hally was ok, there were moments, when she wasn't, but eighty-five percent of the time she was ok. She could feel when Lily was hungry, tired, or just needed a cuddle. Those moments were easy. But sometimes, there were moments when even Lily didn't know why she was crying. Endless crying, on and on.
Jack would swoop in just before Hally completely lost it, picking up Lily and soothing her, telling Hally to take a walk, or a nap, or a bath.
But she was also feeling incredibly guilty. By this point, she had fully stolen him from Ianto, and the guilt gnawed at her. She texted Ianto at least once a day, apologising profusely. Ianto, forever patient and annoyingly supportive, always reassured her, stopping by often, if only to actually get to spend time with his boyfriend. Hally would try her hardest to get Jack to leave with him, but Jack still hadn't budged.
Every day brought visitors. On day three, Alina popped round, more than slightly annoyed to find Hally up and about, looking completely normal.
Jack had laughed, cradling Lily in his arms. "It happened overnight. I swear to you, she woke up the next day like that."
Hally made a face, unsure why they were so annoyed.
"That is not fair," Alina huffed, crossing her arms.
Hally shrugged, unbothered. "I heal."
Alina rolled her eyes playfully. "I know you do, but have the decency to look like shit for at least a week first."
Hally laughed, making tea while Jack bounced Lily gently. "Sounds like something you need to work through," she teased.
By day seven, though, she'd finally convinced Jack to go home. She assured him she'd call if she needed anything, and he finally relented. She thought she'd won—until, about two hours later, Ianto had appeared at her door.
"What are you doing here?" Hally asked, stepping aside to let him in. "I sent him home to be with you."
Ianto shot her a wide, knowing grin. "I know. He sent me straight over."
"Unbelievable," Hally muttered, shaking her head as Ianto stepped inside.
Lily was sleeping soundly in Ianto's arms as the two of them relaxed on the sofa.
"I'm sorry," Hally huffed with a laugh. "You can take him back, I swear."
Ianto chuckled softly. "It's fine. He'll calm down." Lily yawned, momentarily distracting them with her tiny, adorable stretch.
Ianto continued, his tone shifting slightly. "I think he's trying to make up for what happened…"
Hally frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"You and The Master. When they took you," Ianto said gently. "I think he blames himself."
Hally snorted softly, shaking her head. "That's stupid. He couldn't have done anything."
Ianto gave a soft hum of agreement, but his eyes held a deeper understanding. "No, but you know how he is."
Hally sighed. She did.
It was only when Osgood popped round for a visit a week later that Hally found out about O.
"What do you mean he's moved?!" Hally asked, her voice low due to the fussing baby in her arms. "Moved where?"
"Uhh… Australia…" Osgood answered, looking awkward. "I thought… someone would have told you."
"No? Australia? Seriously?" Hally's tone was incredulous, though she kept her volume steady for Lily's sake. "He just upped and left?"
Osgood winced, clearly uncomfortable. "I think it was some urgent MI6 thing, apparently. All a bit of a rush. He's still got his phone. You can text him."
Hally hadn't texted him. She called him the next morning while Lily was still asleep.
"Australia?" she asked without preamble when he picked up.
"Hi…" O's voice came through the line, immediately sheepish.
"You didn't even say goodbye," Hally scolded lightly, though there was a teasing lilt to her voice. She wasn't angry, but her words carried a touch of frustration.
"I know. I'm sorry," he admitted. "It all happened so quickly... and I didn't want to disturb you..."
Hally clicked her tongue against her teeth in mild disapproval. "I can decide what disturbs me. So when are you coming back?"
There was a pause before O responded, his voice more serious. "I'm… not."
"What?" The lightness in her tone evaporated. "What do you mean, 'you're not'?"
"It's a long-term project... it's... top secret," he said, sounding apologetic. "Sorry."
Hally huffed, half-exasperated, half-amused. "Do you need me to murder someone? Will that bring you back?"
O barked a soft laugh. "No, please. No murdering. I'm sorry. I should have come and told you, or called... I know."
She sighed, the weight of his absence settling in a bit more. "Well, who am I supposed to bother with late-night thoughts now?"
He laughed again, the sound warm. "Me. You can still bother me. In fact, I insist that you do."
Not every day was good. Some days were inherently bad. Some days, Hally couldn't shake the bitterness, the anger, the overwhelming sense of unfairness that gnawed at her.
Alina would come by for sessions with her at least once a week, during which, Hally would unapologetically offload everything she'd been carrying. The anger, the pain. How some nights she would cry herself to sleep for what felt like hours. How the hole in her chest felt like it was getting bigger and bigger every day, an emptiness she couldn't fill.
Alina listened patiently, offering support, but also just giving her the space to let it all out.
But it wasn't all bad. The good days were beautiful. And they spoke about those days, too.
The warmth that would blossom in her chest watching a smile form on her daughter's face, her tiny hands exploring the world around her. It was the balance between those days that kept her ticking on—the light and the dark, the joy and the pain, all tangled together.
After four months, Jack and Ianto had simply moved in next door.
Hally sat on her living room floor, watching Lily as she shook toys around, little hands clumsily grasping and letting go. Soft gurgles and plastic clinks mingled with the quiet hum of the television in the background.
"I need to go food shopping…" Hally mentioned, almost as an afterthought to herself, eyes flicking toward the kitchen.
Jack, lounging comfortably on the sofa next to Ianto, perked up immediately. "I can drive you," he offered.
But Hally made a face, shaking her head. "No, it's fine. One of the UNIT cars can take me."
Ianto, who had been quietly observing the exchange, opened his mouth as if to speak but paused, clearly contemplating something. Then he finally asked, "Would it be worth... Hally learning to drive?"
Both Hally and Jack froze for a moment, staring at him as though he'd just suggested something utterly ridiculous. After a beat of silence, Jack shook his head slowly, expression serious. "No."
Hally quickly followed suit. "No…"
"Definitely not," Jack added with a hum of agreement, the two of them united in their absolute certainty.
Ianto chuckled softly, shaking his head.
Hally was rushing into the kitchen when Jack came in through the front door. She'd been trying to finish mashing a banana for the last twenty minutes, but Lily's crying had kept pulling her away. Eventually, she resorted to her new, so far fool proof method of calming her daughter down.
"Uh, Hal?" Jack's voice called from the living room.
She poked her head around the corner, still holding the bowl and fork. "I think she's a bit young for politics…" Jack continued, his brow furrowed in amusement.
Hally huffed, clearly exasperated but still moving at a fast pace. "It's not that… she likes watching him." She quickly disappeared back into the kitchen before Jack could ask who.
He stepped further into the living room, watching the TV screen. It was some sort of political debate, finally, the screen cut back to the opposition and he understood. Harold Saxon. Jack snorted, shaking his head. "Really?" He muttered to himself. It must have been from before Saxon's election, during the campaign. He turned to look down at Lily, who was happily nestled in her baby bouncer, eyes transfixed on the screen. "Really?"
Jack carried the pack of nappies he'd grabbed for her into the kitchen, dumping them on the counter. He took a quick glance around before asking, "Have you eaten?"
A huff from Hally was the only response he got, but it was enough. Without missing a beat, he started moving around the kitchen in tandem with her, grabbing some bread and moving to the fridge.
Once the banana had been successfully mashed, the three of them sat in the lounge. Hally cross-legged on the floor, her focus on spooning mush into her daughter's mouth, her own half-abandoned lunch sitting on the floor next to her. Jack, reclined on the sofa, watched the rerun of the debate with mild displeasure. "Are you sure you don't just like watching them?" he teased, glancing over at Hally with a smirk.
She snorted, shooting him a playful glare before shaking her head. "No. I promise. She does."
Jack raised an eyebrow in disbelief, picking up the remote and pausing the YouTube video, clicking to an animated cartoon. Within seconds, Lily's tiny face scrunched up, her breathing hitching as her eyes brimmed with tears. The first sign of a meltdown was imminent.
"Told you," Hally muttered, her eyes never leaving Lily as she tried to feed her.
Jack huffed, changing the channel again, this time trying another debate—this one more recent, and without Saxon. But Lily was already fussing in her seat, tiny arms waving in protest.
"Jack," Hally shot him a look, her tone edging into a warning.
He scoffed and reluctantly flipped the channel back to the original video. Within moments of Harold Saxon reappearing on screen, Lily settled, her little body relaxing as the fussing stopped.
"I told you," Hally repeated, her voice tinged with satisfaction.
Jack groaned, shaking his head. "Yeah, well… she's got shit taste in politics."
"Language," Hally huffed, though she couldn't hide the slight curve of her mouth.
After five months, Hally had practically begged Kate to let her return to work. It wasn't that she didn't love spending time with Lily—she did, more than anything—but the endless cycle of nappies, feeding, burping, and playing was starting to drive her stir-crazy. She needed something else to occupy her mind, something beyond baby care. Kate, however, had sent Alina to assess her first, and only after getting Alina's approval had Kate agreed to a part-time arrangement. Two days working from home, two days in the office. It was a start.
But with that came a whole new problem: childcare.
It wasn't as though they could hire just anyone to watch over Lily. Security concerns aside, Hally wasn't comfortable leaving her daughter with someone she didn't trust. Plus, Hally still spent most days watching her daughter in case things conspicuously started to float around her. So far, they hadn't.
Some of the Torchwood team had offered to take turns which she appreciated but it didn't seem like a long-term solution, she wanted to slowly get back into working properly and having the entire Torchwood team on babysitting duty seemed like rather a large waste of resources. Kate had suggested bringing her into UNIT, there was already a crèche but Hally had freaked out 'slightly'. She trusted UNIT but she simultaneously did not like the idea of just dumping Lily somewhere and not having someone she trusted keeping an eye on her.
Kate had hummed thoughtfully and said, "I could have a solution for you." She had rolled her lip between her teeth, muttering, "He's not going to like it…" more to herself than to Hally.
Three days later, Kate called her into the office with what she called a "solution."
"I know you're concerned about security," Kate started, her voice calm and measured. "So we've come to a compromise. Whenever Lily is in the crèche, she'll be watched by the head of your security detail."
Hally frowned, her brows knitting together. "Look… it's not that I'm doubting the skill of your security… it's more that I don't know them. I'm sure whoever is the 'head' of my security is fine, but I don't trust them…"
"I think you'll agree I've had more than enough experience babysitting." A very familiar monotone clipped from behind her. "She'll no doubt be better behaved than her parents."
Hally's mouth snapped shut, shooting Kate a disbelieving stare without turning to look at the man she knew stood behind her. "He's the head of your security?"
Kate chuckled. "Oh, god no. I'm not insane. He's the head of yours. After all, he has the most experience. It was Alina's idea."
"Of course it was…" Hally muttered, rising to her feet and turning until her eyes settled on him.
She really should have known.
His sharp blue eyes met hers, his arms crossed over his chest, completely unfazed as usual.
Kate interrupted the staring match. "This way, you can be assured of Lily's safety while she's at UNIT. Armitage will oversee her security, and his deputy will take over yours."
Hally noticed the slightest curve at the corner of Armitage's mouth at the word 'deputy', and a groan escaped her as she realised what—or rather, who—that meant. Pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose, she muttered, "Seriously?"
A gust of air rustled around her, and Hally felt the crackle of vortex energy behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was—only one person would make such a dramatic entrance for no reason at all. Still, she spun on her heel to face him.
"I see someone fixed your Vortex Manipulator," she said, her tone dripping with exasperation.
Hart leaned casually against Kate's desk, grinning like he owned the place. "Perks of the job, little lady."
Hally sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "Kill me."
"Aww, I missed you too." Hart straightened up, giving her a slow, deliberate once-over. His eyes gleamed with mischief as his grin widened. "And can I just say, MILF looks real good on you."
Her expression went flat, eyes narrowing into a deadly glare. "You really want to start this early?"
Hart raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk never leaving his face. "Hey, just calling it like I see it. Can't blame a guy for admiring good work."
Kate, who had been standing off to the side, observing, coughed into her hand. "Yes, well, I'm sure you'll manage to keep things... professional," she said, giving Hart a pointed look.
Hart winked at her. "Always, darling. I'm a model of professionalism."
Hally rolled her eyes. "Sure you are."
Armitage, who had been watching the exchange with mild patience, cleared his throat. "Problem solved?"
Hally huffed, then nodded. "Yes. Fine. Thank you."
Hart sidled up next to her, lazily slinging an arm around her shoulder. "You are so welcome. It's the least I could do, as the best candidate for godfather—"
"You are not any kind of candidate," Hally snapped, shrugging his arm off.
"Oh, come on, I'd be a great godfather." Hart persisted, looping his arm around her shoulder again, ignoring her protests. "Teach her how to blow up a moon or two, pickpocket a dictator, maybe even a little hand-to-hand combat—what more could you ask for?"
"Literally anyone else," Hally deadpanned.
Turning to Kate, Hally's voice was thick with exasperation. "Please tell me I can fire him."
Kate chuckled. "I'm afraid not."
Hally sighed, defeated, and turned to Armitage. "If I kill him, will you cover for me?"
Armitage's lips twitched, as though he might actually be considering it. "I'll… look into it," he said, his voice perfectly serious.
Luckily, Hart mostly remained out of sight and out of mind, as they had been before. Though now that she knew they were around, they had no qualms about just showing up inside her house unannounced. She didn't really mind. If she was honest with herself, maybe she had missed them—well, Armitage at least. Hart? Not so much. But apparently, they now came as a package deal.
How Armitage hadn't killed him and hidden the body yet was beyond her.
Lily's hair had started to slowly darken around the six-month mark, her once light blonde strands gradually shifting to a shade much closer to Hally's own deep brown. The change was subtle at first, but unmistakable now—just as Clara had... accidentally revealed.
It wasn't until Lily was ten months old that Hally saw River again. She came downstairs one evening to find her already sitting at the dining table, a bottle of wine open, sipping from a glass like she'd been there for hours.
Hally swore that nobody ever bothered to ring her doorbell anymore.
With a sigh, she placed Lily in her playpen, grabbing a few toys to keep her momentarily occupied. At ten months old, Lily had become a master crawler, and the playpen had become a necessary defence mechanism. In the time it would take to pour herself a glass of wine, Lily would have disappeared into many impossible spaces. Hally did indeed pour herself a glass—it only seemed polite—and settled into a chair as Lily babbled happily to herself.
River gave her a smile, eyes twinkling with something unreadable. "You're looking well."
"I am," Hally nodded, taking a long sip from her glass. The warmth of the wine spread through her, helping ease some of the constant edge.
River tilted her head, swirling her own glass idly. "He's not 'dead' anymore, you know."
"Uh-huh." Hally muttered, rolling her eyes. "What a massive difference that's made to my life…" Her tone dripped with sarcasm.
River smiled softly, but didn't press further. She changed the subject instead, knowing when to leave certain things unsaid. "Amy and Rory don't live too far from here, you know. You should reach out."
Hally hummed noncommittally, eyes flicking to Lily. She had thought about it, reaching out to Amy and Rory. It seemed like something she should do, eventually. Firstly to apologise. But the idea of it also felt a little too close to the possibility of accidentally running into The Doctor, and that was a complication she wasn't ready for. Not yet.
They let the conversation drift into safer waters, talking about River's recent escapades, the places she'd been. Hally caught her up on her own life, the way her work was shifting away from purely research toward some fieldwork, under strict supervision, of course. She'd gone back to five days, though some afternoons were still spent working from home or taking time off to be with Lily. The two of them finished the bottle of wine slowly, the conversation flowing in a steadily more relaxed manner.
When the bottle was empty, Hally got up, gathering the glasses and the bottle to take them to the sink. As she turned away, River's voice cut through the comfortable quiet.
"Is that new?"
Hally frowned and followed River's gaze. Her eyes widened when she saw Lily, wobbling uncertainly on her legs, arms stretched out for balance. "Oh my god!" A wide grin spread across her face, and she moved quickly over to her daughter, crouching just in time to see Lily flop back down onto her bum with a soft thud.
"Clever girl," Hally cooed, scooping Lily into her arms, covering her face with kisses. "My clever little girl."
Hally and Osgood, with a bit of remote input from the absent O, had finally completed the designs for the temporal management patch. It was a sleek replacement for the bulky collar—far more inconspicuous. The patch would adhere to the back of her neck, the accuracy of its monitoring capabilities improved, sedation enhanced, all still while not interfering with her healing or her telepathic bond with Lily.
After several prototypes, they were finally ready to test it.
The Zero Room had felt like the safest place to test it, after Osgood had adjusted the depression settings. Hally waiting for her instruction in the centre of the room, Jack stood beside her, leaning casually against the wall but watching her with his usual sharp gaze.
"You're sure about this?" Jack asked, a hint of concern seeping through his words.
Hally gave him a determined nod. "We never properly tested the collar before because, well—" she placed a hand over her stomach as if she were still pregnant, "sedating me while I was carrying Lily wasn't exactly an option. But this time, it's different. I volunteered."
Jack glanced toward the glass separating them from the lab outside, where Osgood was preparing. "Yeah, well, you know how I feel about you volunteering for things that involve knocking you out." His mouth curved with a slight smirk, although a hint of concern lingered behind his eyes.
Hally smirked. "Don't worry, I trust Osgood to know what she's doing. Besides, you'll be here to catch me when I fall." She shot him a grin.
Jack's smirk widened. "Always."
Osgood's voice crackled over the comms. "Alright, we're ready in the lab. Hally, I'm going to remove the collar now and replace it with the patch."
Hally stood still as Osgood entered the room. She felt the slight pressure as the familiar weight of the collar was lifted from her neck, and a second later, the cool touch of the patch adhered in its place, at the back of her neck.
Osgood stepped back, her brow furrowed with concentration as she carefully aligned it. "There we go," she said, adjusting her glasses as she inspected the placement. "You'll barely even notice it's there."
"Until it knocks me out," Hally quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Jack chuckled.
Osgood gave her a tight smile. "Hopefully after today, it won't need to, but if it does, it'll be much quicker and more efficient than the collar ever was. Now, I'll head back to the lab to monitor the readings. You two, get ready."
As Osgood left the room, Hally exchanged a glance with Jack.
Osgood's voice crackled back over the comms. "Okay, release the biodampener, please."
Hally took a deep breath and nodded at Jack. He reached over and with both of their fingerprints deactivated the biodampener. As soon as it was off, Hally felt a shift inside her, a weight lifting. She could feel the hum of her power returning, revving just beneath the surface, waiting.
"Start slowly," Osgood directed. "Increase your energy bit by bit."
Hally began small, lifting a few objects with her mind. A pen floated into the air, a chair slid a few inches across the floor. Jack watched with a casual curiosity, though Hally could see the tension in his stance.
"How's it looking, Osgood?" Jack asked.
"Everything's good so far," Osgood replied, her voice calm. "Keep going, but only until you hit the safety threshold."
Hally nodded, moving the objects around with a bit more force, feeling the power creep up to the edge of calm control, tilting slightly into a realm of chaos. As she pushed a little further, a soft warning beep emitted from the patch.
Osgood's voice cut in, slightly more urgent now. "Alright, you're getting close to the limit. If you go any further, the patch will engage."
Hally locked eyes with Jack. "Ok… please catch me." She increased her effort, pushing her power just past the threshold.
The patch beeped again—a warning.
And then, everything went black.
She awoke in Jack's arms, her head resting against his chest as he knelt beside her. His face hovered close, eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.
"Hey, you with me?" Jack asked softly, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead.
Hally blinked a few times, clearing the fog. "Yeah… yeah, I'm good," she mumbled, nodding to reassure him.
Jack's expression softened with relief. "You're heavier than you look," he teased lightly, though his eyes were still full of concern.
She snorted, rolling her eyes as she shifted, trying to sit up a bit straighter. "Did it work?"
Osgood's voice came through the comms, more chipper this time. "Perfectly. The sedative kicked in just as it should. You were out within an eighth of a second."
"Good to know," Hally said, managing a faint smile.
Jack helped her sit fully upright, keeping a steadying hand on her arm. "Glad you're okay. You ready to call it a success?"
Hally chuckled, still a little groggy but feeling better. "Once we put the biodampener back on, I'll say yes."
With Osgood's guidance, they reattached the biodampener, and as soon as it clicked into place, Hally felt the familiar constraint settle over her. She let out a slow breath.
"Well," she said, brushing herself off as she stood up, "that was… not as bad as I thought it would be."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Not as bad? You know, sometimes, I gotta wonder if you're not just a masochist."
Hally grinned. "Well, I still hang around with you, don't I?"
Jack shook his head, laughing softly. "Touché, Kid."
Osgood's voice chimed in again, sounding pleased. "Congratulations, everyone. I think prototype 17b is the one!"
Hally sat down on the sofa, feeling the familiar comfort of the space as Alina asked softly, "How are you?"
She hummed in response, giving a vague nod. But then something flickered in her mind, and she reached for her phone. "Oh, I swear I'm not trying to distract us," she said quickly, glancing up at Alina with an almost apologetic smile, "I just want to show you this..."
She unlocked her phone and pulled up a video, turning the screen toward Alina. The two women cooed over the short clip of Lily, waddling around on her legs, teetering with that determined, unsteady grace that only toddlers seem to master. The video ended and Hally paused, her eyes still on the screen as she chewed on the inside of her mouth.
As if sensing something deeper, Alina didn't press or ask a follow-up. She stayed quiet, giving Hally the space to continue.
"I thought about sending it to him," Hally admitted, her voice carrying a note of reluctance. "Dad." She made a face at the use of the word, almost cringing at how it slipped out. "But I don't even know if that number is still in use. And then I thought… what if he replied? What would I even say? Or worse—what if he just showed up? Took it as an invitation, which it definitely wouldn't be. Or… what if he just ignored it? Didn't reply at all?"
She sighed softly, frowning as she sat back into the sofa, locking the phone screen. "I'm not ready for him to just rock up and pretend like it's all fine. Because that's what he'll do. That's what he always does."
Alina nodded, not interrupting.
"I miss The Master. All the time," Hally confessed, her voice quieter now. "I hate that he's missing out on all these little things. She's growing up… really quickly, and he's missing it. Then I get angry because The Doctor is choosing to miss it. And then—" she let out a frustrated breath, "—that spirals into me being furious with myself, because I shouldn't want him here after everything, I should've dropped my expectations of him, but I just haven't."
Alina jotted something down in her notebook, her gaze remaining on Hally. She didn't push, didn't ask for more.
"River came by," Hally said, changing the subject abruptly.
Alina hummed softly, the sound low and thoughtful. "How was that?"
Hally shrugged, not entirely sure herself. "I dunno. I always feel like she's got another motive outside of just seeing me, which is probably true. I think she's sort of babysitting me for him." Her lips quirked with irritation. "Which annoys me. She suggested I reach out to Amy and Rory."
Alina tilted her head slightly, her expression open. "Perhaps you should."
"Maybe." The word hung in the air, lacking conviction.
Alina didn't press. She didn't need to. The silence was enough, and Hally could feel the unspoken invitation to continue lingering between them. She sighed, feeling the weight of everything settle on her again.
"As angry as I am at him," Hally began, her voice softer now, more reflective, "being here on Earth was the right thing to do, for her. I feel like I should be more angry at him, but as time goes on… it somehow seems less and less important. Whether he and I hate each other or whether we get on—it shouldn't impact her, should it? She should still be able to know him."
Her voice wavered, and a bitter laugh escaped her. "He's family, and she doesn't have a whole lot of blood relations left…" She trailed off, the bitterness in her tone replaced by something more vulnerable, more uncertain. "I'm just… I'm not ready to reach out yet."
Lily's first birthday arrived in a whirlwind of emotions that Hally had been anticipating for months. She stood in the middle of her living room, watching as bright-coloured balloons bobbed against the ceiling and the sunlight streamed through the windows. The room was decorated with ribbons and banners that spelt out "Happy Birthday" in cheerful, multi-coloured letters. Presents were stacked in a corner, wrapped in shimmering paper that glinted every time she glanced over.
It had been a small gathering, just as she'd planned. Jack, Ianto, Owen, Tosh, and Gwen had arrived first, with Gwen holding little Anwen's hand as they walked through the door. Anwen, now almost three, wasn't much of a baby anymore, but she was still adorable, ambling after Gwen and casting curious glances at the party decorations. Martha, Osgood and Kate came next, followed by Alina and River, who had swept in as dramatically as ever, a wide grin plastered on her face as she hugged Hally tightly.
Hart had come too, and he'd somehow managed to drag Armitage with him. Each of them had greeted Lily with exaggerated waves and excited voices, but no one could compete with Jack in her daughter's eyes. The moment Lily had caught sight of him, her entire face had lit up, her chubby little arms flailing as she toddled over to him with a delighted shriek.
"Jaa!" she'd demanded, her voice firm and clear, her arms stretched up insistently, and Jack, ever doting, immediately complied, sweeping her up into his arms with a grin that matched hers.
"There's my girl!" he exclaimed, spinning her around while she giggled uncontrollably.
Hally watched from the kitchen doorway, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She'd known for a while that Jack was Lily's favourite, but seeing the way her daughter's eyes lit up whenever he was around stirred a mix of emotions in her chest. Lily adored Jack. She waved enthusiastically whenever she saw him, crawled—or now, waddled—toward him, and clung to him like he was her personal hero. And Jack? Jack never said no to her. He couldn't.
"He spoils her rotten," Hally muttered with an affectionate roll of her eyes as Alina sidled up beside her.
"He does. But then again… so do you." Alina shot her a knowing smile, eyes glittering as her gaze moved towards the giant pile of presents.
Hally gave a sheepish grin, glancing over at the towering stack of gifts. She had gone a bit overboard, hadn't she? "It's her first birthday. I wanted to make it special."
Alina nodded, her gaze softening. "It is special. And you're allowed to spoil her."
Her eyes moved back to her daughter, squealing with laughter as Jack blew a giant raspberry on her cheek.
Seeing her so delightfully happy was… everything.
But it didn't stop her thoughts from drifting.
Because it shouldn't have been Jack who Lily clung to, should it?
It should have been Koschei…
Alina picks up on her shift, gently touching her back. "Do you want to take a minute?"
Hally shook her head, blinking steadily. "No. I'm ok." She shot Alina a smile. "I'll indulge in the pity party later, have a good cry. Something like that."
Alina offered her a knowing smile and nodded, but didn't press.
Hally let out a huff. "Today, I am choosing to be happy." She gave Alina a smile, before moving away.
But Hally couldn't always shake the faint sense of melancholy that clung to the back of her mind. She watched as the team—her family—gathered around Lily, cooing and making her laugh, passing her from one set of arms to another. Lily was adored by everyone in the room, but even in the midst of all the laughter and celebration, there was a hollow spot in Hally's chest that she couldn't quite ignore.
That evening, once everyone had gone, as they did now and then, Hally planned to sit with her daughter and watch her favourite clip of her father. For some reason, she loved one of the press interviews they'd both done while in New York, babbling happily and clapping her hands whenever they watched it. Hally wasn't sure what it was about that particular clip of The Master that Lily loved so much, she imagined it was because it was one of the few rare clips of him laughing. His arm easily curled around her waist as he let out a genuine bark of laughter at something she had said.
She could dwell on the melancholy later. For now, she wanted to focus on Lily.
The sound of her giggles drew her gaze back to her daughter. Jack had tossed her gently into the air, her squeals of delight filling the room. Hally's face split into a grin at the sight.
As the afternoon wore on, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm. Hally, with some help from Ianto had lain out a spread of all the best party snacks. Crisps, party rings, mini-sausage rolls, the works. The adults mingled, chatting about anything and everything while Lily toddled between them, sometimes plopping down on her bottom to investigate a toy or pull at the brightly coloured streamers dangling from the chairs.
Gwen laughed as Anwen attempted to show Lily how to stack blocks, though the younger girl was more interested in knocking them down. "It's not as fun building things up when you can smash them instead, right?" Gwen said with a knowing grin.
Lily, oblivious to the conversation, gave a delighted squeal and toppled over the stack Anwen had painstakingly created.
River, sitting on the arm of the couch with a glass of wine in hand, gave Hally a sidelong glance. "She's growing up fast."
"Too fast," Hally muttered, leaning against the kitchen counter as she nursed her own drink. "I feel like I blinked and she's already walking."
River smiled knowingly. "Time has a way of slipping by, doesn't it?"
Hally exhaled a soft laugh. "Smooth, River. Real smooth." She levelled a look at her, the sides of her mouth curving playfully. "Just tell me to 'call my father', why don't you?"
River hummed. "Call your father." She quipped back immediately.
Hally widened her eyes sarcastically. "No." She clipped before her face widened into a petulant grin, taking a large sip of her wine.
Armitage hovered. On anyone else, it would probably look awkward and yet he somehow always managed to make silently standing near the edge of a gathering look comfortable.
She watched as her daughter toddled fearlessly up to him, her mouth curving into a smile. Clutching the edge of his trousers with one small hand. "Up!" she declared, her voice insistent, eyes staring up at him with an innocent anticipation.
Armitage looked down, blinking at her. His expression one of mildly sour patience. "Zero survival skills." he mumbled, but he crouched down and scooped Lily up into his arms. The little girl giggled in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
"How many times, I am not for cuddling." Armitage hummed softly at her, his eyes rose, catching Hally's gaze on them and shooting her an eye roll.
Lily, undeterred by his weak reprimands, squirmed in his arms and pointed toward a stack of brightly wrapped presents that had yet to be opened. She babbled something incoherent, but the intent was clear.
"Looks like you're on present duty." Hally explained with an amused grin.
Armitage let out a long, resolute sigh, moving over to the pile. He settled Lily down on the floor, the box in front of her, then crouched beside her. "Right. Come on then, you tiny little nightmare."
Lily's hands immediately went for the ribbon, tugging at it with great enthusiasm but not much progress. After a few moments of struggling with the stubborn bow, she gave Armitage a look that could only be described as expectant.
He hesitated for a second, then reached out and deftly undid the ribbon for her. "Just like your mother. I have to do everything."
"And yet… you're still here." She shot him a shit-eating grin.
As the afternoon continued, Hally found herself drifting between conversations, watching her daughter bask in the attention and love that surrounded her. She moved into the kitchen, picking at the tiny cheese blocks with cheese skewed on them. Why Ianto had insisted they also had pineapple on them she didn't know. Humans were weird.
"You alright?" Jack's voice rumbled beside her, she drew herself away from the tiny cheese to offer him a smile.
"Yeah." She meant it. She did, but he must have seen an inkling of something else in her eyes.
"You're not alone Hal."
"I know." She nodded, and turned back to look through into the living room. "I've got the biggest family I've ever had…"
The pair of them fell into a comfortable silence for a few long moments.
"I am not going to be the first one to apologise," she muttered, more to herself than to Jack.
He caught the words anyway, raising an eyebrow at her unsolicited admission. "Have I mentioned recently how stubborn you are?" He quipped, eyes glittering.
She chuckles softly, shaking her head. "So is he."
Jack chuckled. "Yeah. I wonder where you get it from." He smirked. "But sometimes… it's not about who's right or wrong. Sometimes it's just about who's willing to reach out first."
Hally looked at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I don't think I can."
"Maybe not today," Jack said, his voice gentle. "But when you're ready, you will. Not for you, but for her."
As if on cue, Lily turned her head, her eyes widening as she spotted her two favourite people standing next to each other. She ran over, clutching one of Anwen's blocks in her small hand. Holding it out to Jack, she said, "Jaa. Red." Her eyes wide and bright.
Jack grinned, leaning down to take the block from her. "Wow, thank you, Lily."
"Red," Lily repeated happily.
"It is red. Clever girl."
Lily beamed at him before reaching up toward Hally. Hally scooped her up, the pair of them standing straight as Lily nestled into her embrace.
Lily looked up at her mother, her eyes wide with a special kind of mischief.
"Kiss," Lily said, her voice clear and firm. She tilted her cheek towards Hally, a small, hopeful smile playing on her lips.
Hally grinned. She leaned in and planted a big, affectionate kiss on Lily's cheek, her smile warm and genuine.
Lily's face lit up with delight. She clapped her hands together enthusiastically, her little fingers making a happy sound. "Kiss!" she said again, her tone demanding but playful.
Hally chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You want another one?" she asked, her voice light.
Lily giggled mischievously. She held her cheek out once more, her eyes sparkling.
Hally obliged, giving Lily another big kiss on her cheek, this one a little more exaggerated and playful. "There's another kiss, just for you."
Lily clapped her hands again, her giggles filling the space between them. She looked up at Hally, clearly thrilled. "Kiss!" she repeated, her tone insistent.
Hally laughed softly, shaking her head in affectionate resignation.
Jack chuckled, watching the pair of them fondly. "Sounds like her father…" He quipped, eyes twinkling.
Hally exhaled a laugh, giving Lily one more gentle kiss on the cheek, her smile never fading.