𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲|•|𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐨|•|

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

"Hm?" He murmured. Lynnette knew he'd heard the question. His hand had clenched her own.

Donna stepped forward, probing, "Do you think Jenny'll see any new worlds?"

He let out a short breath, eyes flickering to Lynnette.

She smiled gently at him, trying to convey that she knew his conflict and that she would support him every step of the way as she adjusted to having a child once again. She lifted her spare hand to his hand and nodded.

His lips twitched upwards as his eyes met Jenny's, "I suppose so."

Elation stretched across the girl's features as the realisation dawned upon her like the sunrise stretching across the bleakest of nights, bringing about new hope. Her eyes darted between the trio as she breathed, "You mean...You mean, you'll take me with you?"

"We can't leave you here, can we?" The Doctor hummed.

"I still have so many tricks I gotta teach you," Lynnette chimed in, leaning against her partner.

Excitement bubbled across her chest as their daughter bounded over to them with the lightness of a feather, throwing her arms around them tightly as she exclaimed, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" When she pulled away there was newfound life in her expression as she spoke, "Come on, let's get going!"

"Careful, there might be traps!" The Doctor yelled out as she strode away, hand tightening against Lynnette's once more.

Lynnette's brows creased in worry.

"Kids! They never listen!" Donna hummed.

Silence.

She twisted to look at the pair, first seeing the anxious expression on Lynnette's face and then the foreboding one on the Doctor's. It looked like he was grimacing, staring out a storm that tore apart anything that dared to step in its path.

She spoke slowly, cautiously, "Oh, I know that look. See it a lot around our way. Blocks with pushchairs and frowns. You've got dad-shock."

"Dad-shock?" The Doctor huffed, perhaps a little harshly.

Donna nodded, "Sudden, unexpected fatherhood. Takes a bit of getting used to."

Lynnette remembered the face her adopted father made in the photo her aunt showed her when she'd dating the day she'd first been adopted.  Their expressions weren't quite the same, but what did Lynnette know? He'd hardly been a good father.

"No, it's not that," The Doctor said softly, flatly. He wanted this conversation to end, to keep the secret of his failure to his children close to his chest.

"Well, what is it then? Having Jenny in the Tardis, is that it?" Donna inquired, she wasn't going to let this subject go until she understood, "What's she gonna do, cramp your style? Like you've got a sports car and she'll turn it into a people-carrier?"

"I thought you said we've got a box?" Lynnette teased softly, quick to elevate the pressure and give the Doctor an out.

He let out a deep, shuddered breath as he admitted his secret, "Donna, I've been a father before."

"What?" Donna's face was stricken with bewilderment.

Lynnette rubbered her thumb along the Doctor's hand, feeling the way it trembled in her own.

"I lost all that a long time ago. Along with everything else," He said simply, he could not take baring his soul any more than he already had, he would not dare to mention the beauty of his children, the way their laughs sounded or the way his hearts were shredded when they died.