"David!" Catherine yelled. "Turn off that bloody music!"

It was almost 9 in the morning, there were a pile of dishes in the sink that she hadn't even started on yet, and now her eight year old son was blasting music from his bedroom. It wasn't just any music, either—it was that song.

"But mum—" came a reply.

"No buts! Turn it off."

There was a grumpy reply, but the music switched off.

"Thank you," Catherine replied. "I've had it up to here with that song."

David came out of his bedroom. He was wearing his favorite pair of pajamas—the ones with flying TARDISs all over—and carrying a photo frame.

"But mum," he said, "that's my favorite song."

Catherine tidied the kitchen as David settled himself onto the couch. "I know it is, but it's too early for this," she muttered, mostly to herself. She stopped abruptly while loading the dishwasher, her eyes suddenly wide. "Aren't you late for school?"

David sighed. "It's Saturday," he finally said.

"Oh, thank god," she said, relieved. "I already have enough to do today."

"What are you doing today?" he asked.

"I have to clean this—entire—house," she said, struggling to close the dishwasher. "Ugh, I think our dishwasher is broken. It never closes on the first try anymore. God, I'll have to get it looked at. Who looks at dishwashers? Mechanics? Plumbers? Oh, boy—"

"D'you need any help?" David said.

"No, you can just—can you get dressed by yourself? I'll make something for you to eat. You can just stay home today, right? You've got nowhere to go?"

"I was supposed to go over Joshua's house today," he replied quietly.

Catherine sighed. "Alright, get dressed, I'll take you there. What's that you're carrying?" she said, noticing the photo frame.

"Nothing," David said, and ran off quickly to his bedroom.

For the next half hour, Catherine cleaned the kitchen, the living room, and poured David a bowl of cereal. As he ate, she went into his bedroom to see if it needed to be cleaned.

Any normal eight year old boy would have an incredibly messy room—toys, papers, and clothes would be everything. But not David; no, he wasn't any regular boy. He was wise beyond his years. It was just him and his mum, and it'd been that way for almost two years now.

Catherine never spoke of her husband. She had cried at the beginning, but over time she had grown resentful. She remembered waking up that morning, and looking around to see that she was alone. It was their home, their room, their bed—and she was the only occupant. She waited hours by the phone, hoping he would call, and she searched the entire house, praying that he had possibly kept a note with some sort of explanation as to where he was, or why he had left. It took her months to realize that he had simply abandoned his family. He had left Catherine and David, discarded them from his life without a single goodbye.

But Catherine wasn't weak. She'd fallen in love with her husband on the set of Doctor Who, and just like her character, Donna Noble, she was strong. She never let anyone know about her struggles. She never let her son see her as a weepy, hopeless person. No, Catherine was strong. If he could forget about his family that easily, then she could forget him.

As she looked around David's extremely neat room, the only thing that seemed out of place was the photo frame that he had been holding before. It was upside down on the bed.

That's weird, she thought, as she picked it up. When she saw the photograph, her heart skipped a few beats.

It was an old photograph—taken the day David was born. It was of her, holding her newborn son, while her husband sat beside her.

It wasn't seeing him that surprised her. She'd seen photographs of him after he had left. They were all over the house. She wanted to take them down, but David would ask questions. The only thing Catherine could not bring herself to do was tell her son that his father had left. He was wise enough to know not to talk about the subject now, but in the beginning, he'd asked all sorts of questions. "He's on a vacation," Catherine had said. "He's going to be gone for a while. Now stop asking."

No, the picture itself wasn't surprising. It was the expression on her husband's face that brought tears to her eyes.

He had been looking at her, and he didn't look scared, or anything of the sort; in fact, he looked overwhelmed with joy. He had been looking at her with an expression of love. He looked so happy, smiling at his wife on the day his son was born—it almost made her wonder. How could he leave? They had spent years together, first as colleagues, then friends, then they'd fallen in love. Did he get bored, or did he just stop caring? Catherine kept thinking these thoughts over and over, and she wiped away a single tear.

No, no. Don't cry. Don't cry. He's not worth it. He's gone, he's not coming back, stop crying.

"Mum?"

"Yes?" she said, wiping her eyes and clearing her throat. She dropped the photo frame on the bed, exactly the way it was before. "Have you—have you finished eating?"

"Yes," David replied. He looked at her curiously. "What were you doing in my room?"

"Oh, just, tidying it up a little bit," Catherine replied. "Go put your shoes on, I'll take you to Joshua's house now."

David shouted and ran off excitedly, and she responded with a small smile. She wiped her eyes again.

"Oh, God," she said quietly to herself. "Stop crying, Catherine. Get yourself together."

Catherine was driving back home after dropping David off. She'd made a few stops on the way, buying herself a pint of ice cream, a funny movie, and a few groceries to make dinner that night. She wanted to cheer herself up before she had to see David again. She didn't want her son to ever see her in that way again.

She parked the car in the driveway, turned the key, with the engine falling silent at once. She rested her head on her steering wheel. She was so tired.

She was tired of being a single parent. She was tired of not really knowing why her husband left her. She was tired of sleeping alone in her bed each night. She hated that she had to lie to her son about where his father was—but she couldn't tell him the truth either, because it's not as if she knew.

Catherine sighed. Why was she feeling so emotional today? She finally got out of the car and went inside the small house. Before she had even set the bag of groceries down, she knew something was wrong.

Something was…off.

Someone was in the house.

She didn't call out. Instead, she made sure to be absolutely silent as tried to grab a small bottle of pepper spray out of her purse. She always kept pepper spray on her, at all times no matter what. Luckily, she'd never had to use it before. At least, until now.

"Catherine," she suddenly heard a voice call. Her heart was racing. It wasn't a thief that had broken into the house—it was someone she knew.

Someone she thought she'd never see again.

She stepped quietly into the living room, still holding the bottle of pepper spray, her purse, and the bag of groceries.

"Are you going to spray me?" her husband asked, slightly smiling, looking at the bottle in her hand.

"I ought to, after what you do did." She said sternly. She didn't know how she managed to stay so calm. She wanted to cry, or scream, or do both—she had so many questions, but she didn't react. She had thought about this moment so many times, replaying this scenario over and over, thinking about what she would say to him if he ever came back. Now that she was faced with this situation, she had absolutely no idea what to do.

His expression dropped entirely. "Catherine, I am so sorry…" he started.

"Sorry for what?" she asked. "For leaving? For abandoning your family? For disappearing one day, without a single explanation, without a phone call or a letter or a goodbye? Is that what you're sorry for?"

Her voice rose as she got angrier and angrier. She walked away from him, and went into the kitchen, where she set everything she was holding down onto the table. He followed her, trying to calm her down.

"Where's Little David?" he asked.

"He's not 'Little David' anymore, he's just David. He's the only David in my life, now," she added firmly, and looked at him to see his expression. He winced visibly, clearly hurt by her words. It took everything Catherine had to not smile. She was glad that her words could hurt him, especially because his lack thereof had caused her tremendous grief.

"I am so sorry for leaving you," he said. "I am so sorry. You have to believe me. I am."

"You have a son, David," she said to him. "Your only son, your namesake, and you just left hi—" she stopped. "I don't want to waste my breath. Get out."

"No," David said.

"What do you mean, no? This is my house, the papers for it are in my name, I've been paying the bills for two years, this is my house and I want you to get out!"

"I'm not leaving until you let me explain." he said quietly. "I know I left suddenly, I know I'm a terrible person, but I also know you have questions, and I want to answer them. I need you to listen. I'll leave once I'm done, but you need to know. I need you to know."

Catherine was quiet for a long time. "Well, alright then," she finally said. "this better be good."

"You left us to go on a pilgrimage?"

"It's not like that—"

"Oh, really? Then what's it like, exactly? Did you find your inner Gandhi? Did you meditate naked with some monks in a lake at midnight? Was it fun? WERE YOU HAVING FUN?"

"Far from it," David said. He was much taller than Catherine, but when she was in a foul mood, he cowered in fear. "I wanted to find myself."

"Oh yeah? Really? Is that why you left? To find yourself?"

"I—Catherine, this is exactly what happened before I left. Don't you remember?"

"What're you talking about?" she snapped.

"This," David made a motion between the two. "Me and you. We'd fight, all the time."

"Every couple fights," Catherine said.

"But it would be over the stupidest things. And it wasn't your fault, either—well, usually," he said, earning a glare from her. "I'd get mad for no reason, and we'd argue over absolutely nothing."

"That's it? That's your big explanation?"

"No." He cleared his throat. "I was becoming someone horrible, someone that I didn't want to be. Don't you remember? I'd stay out all night, drinking. I'd come home late, fall asleep, completely drunk. I was—I was so self destructive. And that's the thing, too—I wasn't just hurting myself. I needed to change myself. I wanted to change myself for—"

"For what?" Catherine asked.

David looked at her. "For you. You deserved better than who I was. You didn't deserve a drunken, angry husband. I wanted to be a better person. That's why I left. I went to regular meetings, I traveled a bit, but it was just to make myself a better person, for you."

"Meetings?"

"I took therapy to control my anger," David explained.

"You never struck me as the angry type," she said quietly.

He gave her a small smile. "Do you understand now?"

Catherine understood. For once in her life, she was absolutely speechless. This entire time, she had been blaming him. She had been blaming herself, wondering why he could have left, but not in her wildest dreams did she think it was to improve himself. And why did he improve himself? For her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "That's still no excuse for leaving," she said quietly.

"I know." David got up off the couch and kneeled in front of her, taking her hands into his. "I came back, though. I always knew I'd come back. I could never leave for good. But I am so, so sorry for leaving you and Little David. I regret leaving, I really do. I regret not telling you why I left, I regret not calling, I regret it all—but the man that I am now, Catherine? This is the man you deserve. I'm a better man now, you have to believe me. I wouldn't have come back if I was still the pathetic human being that I used to be."

Catherine couldn't control the single tear that fell from her eye. He wiped it away and planted a small kiss on her forehead. She started crying freely now, but it was okay. She knew she wouldn't completely get over David leaving right away, but in time, her wounds would heal. He was back, now, and that's all that mattered.

Later that day, they both went to pick up Little David. It had been his pet name ever since he was born, but after David had left, Catherine stopped calling him that. It had too many memories attached to it, and it hurt too much.

"I can't wait to see the look on his face," Catherine said, "he's going to be so excited."

"What did—what did you tell him?" David asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"I told him you were on vacation," Catherine said. "Which, now, I suppose, was the truth," she added, playfully hitting him.

"Ouch," he said. "It wasn't much of a vacation, actually. I rented out this small, dingy flat. I had meetings every week, and I started traveling. I—" he stopped suddenly.

"What?" Catherine said. "What is it?"

"I—I bought postcards. Dozens of them. I wrote to you and Little David, but I could never get the courage to mail them."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Catherine said. "A postcard would have been nice."

"I suppose, but—I just didn't know what to expect. If you didn't reply, I wouldn't have known what to do with myself. I figured it was the best to just wait until my therapy sessions were over so I could come back and explain everything to you in person." He paused, and frowned. "I really am sorry for leaving. I'm sorry for being such a coward, I couldn't even write to you."

"You can keep apologizing," Catherine replied. "I'm not tired of hearing it yet."

"Guess who came back from vacation?" Catherine asked Little David.

His eyes went wide with excitement. "Daddy?" he said, almost afraid at the word. He hadn't mentioned his father in almost two years.

Catherine nodded, and Little David grinned.

"Is he in the car?" he ran towards the vehicle. "Daddy! You came back!"

"Of course I did," David replied. "I'm so sorry for leaving! Do you think you could forgive me?"

"Yes," Little David said. "I read the letter you left me every day."

"Letter?" Catherine said. "What letter?"

"You did?" David asked his son.

"Yes," he replied again.

"David, what's he on about?" Catherine interrupted.

"I—I gave him a letter before I left." David answered, almost guiltily. "I didn't want him to think I was never coming back."

"You left him a letter but not me?" Catherine tried to keep an even tone, but it was hard to mask her flaring anger.

"All I did was let him know that I had to go somewhere, and that I would come back. I know you think I abandoned you," he added, in a quiet voice, "but I'm not that cruel. I wouldn't just leave my son. Besides, I thought he would tell you. I never said to keep it from you."

"David," Catherine said, turning her attention to her son. "Why didn't you show me this letter?"

"You never liked it when I talked about Daddy," he replied.

Catherine sighed. "Alright, then. Still would've been nice if I got a letter…" she added.

"I know," David said. "I'll show you all the post cards when we go back home."

Home. It was a strange word, now. There was suddenly so much more meaning to it now that Catherine had her husband back. Now that Little David had his father back. Everything was right, again.

"…and I listened to the song that you liked, the one about five hundred miles, but sometimes Mummy didn't like it. I think it made her sad," Little David added quietly.

"It was annoying," Catherine said. "All you did was play the bloody song, on full volume too."

David laughed. They were all sitting in the living room, gathered around the telly after having dinner. After an hour or so, Little David started to get tired, and they all decided to go to bed.

"Goodnight, mum. Goodnight, dad."

"Goodnight," David said, kissing his son's forehead.

"Dad, I'm glad you're back. I was starting to get worried."

David chuckled at his son's concern. "Don't worry. Never worry."

"Okay," Little David replied, and retreated to his bedroom.

"You've raised him better than I ever could," David said to his wife. They were both in bed now, and any anger that was between them when they first reunited had dissipated now.

"I know," Catherine replied haughtily.

"You're still mad," David frowned. It was a statement, not a question; he knew his wife's temper better than any other individual on the planet.

"It's still a bit difficult for me to process that could just leave without warning and then suddenly come back, and expect to pick up where we left off."

"Catherine," he said. "That is not at all what I want."

"What?" she said, confused.

"I don't want to pick up where we left off. I want to start over, with me, you, and Little David. A new beginning for the Tennant family. You didn't change your last name, did you?" He asked as an afterthought.

"Of course not," Catherine replied, annoyed.

"Good," David said. He kissed her cheek. "Goodnight."

Catherine sighed. "'Night."

The next morning, Catherine woke up alone, but she knew her husband hadn't left again, judging by the sounds coming from the kitchen.

"You scramble the eggs, I'll pop the toast in the oven, and maybe we'll cook some bacon. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," came the tiny voice of Little David.

Catherine caught on quickly. Breakfast in bed? For her? Well, she deserved it.

There was a very loud clanging noise.

"Dad! Try not to drop the pan, will you?"

"Sorry !"

Catherine smiled to herself as she turned over and tried to go back to sleep.

"Catherine?"

"Hm?"

"We made breakfast for you. Eggs and toast."

"And bacon and juice!" added Little David.

"Oh," Catherine said, pretending to be surprised. "This is just lovely. Who's idea was this?"

"Mine," David said, grinning.

"No, it was mine," Little David said.

"Hey, who cooked all the food?"

"That's not fair! I don't know how to use the stove!"

Catherine smiled. "Well, it looks delicious. Thank you both."

"Catherine, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." David said, sitting down on the bed next to her.

"What?" she replied.

"I've been thinking," he said, slowly, "I told you that I wanted to be a better man, because you deserved a better man than who I was."

"Yeah, and? What's your point?" Catherine said, biting into the toast.

"I love you," David said. "I've loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. You're wonderful, and smart, and funny, and you're my best mate." He paused, and got down from the bed and onto one knee. She suddenly realized he was holding a ring in his hand. "Will you marry me…again?"

Catherine's eyes went wide. "What?" she whispered.

"I'm asking you to marry me, again," David said. "We can renew our vows. Do you… do you think you'd want to do that, maybe?"

Catherine didn't waste another minute.

"Yes, you dumbo, I will marry you—again!"

David smiled as he stood up to embrace his wife. "I am so glad you said that."

"What's happening?" Little David said, jumping on the bed.

"We're going to get married again!" Catherine said excitedly.

"Oi, Little David," David said. "How'd you like to be my best man?"

"Will I get to wear a suit?" he asked.

"Yes," Catherine said.

"Okay," he shrugged, but he was happy nevertheless.

The next few months went by quickly in the midst of the excitement of their vow renewal, and when the day had finally arrived, Catherine was as nervous as a new bride.

"Karen, how do I look?"

"You look beautiful," she replied. "That dress is amazing."

"You look pretty, mum," Little David said.

"Thank you, sweetie," Catherine smiled. To Karen, she added, "I'm nervous. Why am I so nervous? I've done this before. I'm already married! Why am I so nervous?"

"Hey, hey!" Karen said. "Calm down. It's okay to be nervous, but still. Breathe."

"I am breathing. God, I'm so nervous. Do you think David is this nervous?"

"Probably, although you've got nothing to be nervous about. This whole wedding vows renewal idea was so sweet," Karen replied. "You're lucky that your husband loves you so much."

Yeah, he loves me so much he left for two years without a warning, Catherine thought. She hadn't fully gotten over this fact yet, and she had not told a single person other than her parents about David leaving. They were angry when they found out that he came back, but eventually, he had won them over.

There was a knock on the door.

"Catherine?" It was her mother. She opened the door, poked her head into the room, and smiled. "It's time."

The guest list for the ceremony was incredibly short. Between their parents and close friends, there was about fifteen guests. The couple had decided that they would renew their vows in a church. It would be simple, but elegant.

As "Here Comes The Bride" started playing, Catherine walked down the aisle, slowly. Her heart was racing, and she felt that at any moment, she would trip and embarrass herself. That didn't happen, however; she walked gracefully, all the way to the front, where David was waiting for her in a well-tailored tuxedo.

"You look lovely," he whispered in her ear, and she blushed.

Catherine could hardly stand still as she waited for the minister to finish reading through. Before she knew it, David was reciting his vows to her.

"Catherine," he said, taking her hands into his. "You are the most brave, wonderful, noble woman I have ever known. When we first met, you were in a wedding dress—because we were on the set of a show, not because I crashed a wedding—" the guests laughed at this part, "—but I knew you were the most beautiful woman I would ever see. You have stayed by my side for years, even when I wasn't much of a man—even when you deserved so much better, you stayed with me. I will never be able to thank you enough for that. You're charming, clever, funny, and everything I've dreamed about in a woman. You're better than what I've dreamed about, because you're real. I know, we've had troubles, but I also know you never gave you on me. I love you more than anything. I love our son. I love our family. I love us."

"David," Catherine said, with tears in her eyes. "I have had the most incredible privilege of meeting you. Meeting you was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. You're a wonderful husband, even though you're not perfect, you're good enough." David smiled at this. "I think we were made for each other. You're caring, warm, funny, a great husband, and an even better father—I love you with everything I have. I love our son, I love our family. I love us."

"David, and Catherine," the minister said. "through your continued love, with the reaffirmation you make today in front of God, in front of your family and friends, it is my honor to pronounce you once again as husband and wife."

"Kiss her, Daddy!" Little David called out, and as they kissed, the room was filled with the sound of applause.

Don't get it wrong, Catherine was still upset about him leaving. She hadn't forgotten. But at the same time, she knew she would be able to forgive him for it. And she would, in due time. At that moment, though, Catherine knew that she was the happiest woman in all of creation, and David knew that he was the luckiest man alive.