I have no idea what I was thinking. I honestly don't. Well, I know what I was thinking. I was thinking how very many Smiths there are in Doctor Who.
"Mr. Smith," the nurse called, "You can come in now."
John jumped to his feet and lurched towards the door, pushing the nurse, a young man with light brown hair, out of the way. He hadn't wanted to wait outside, but he'd gotten so nervous and twitchy that Rose had ordered him out.
Rose was sitting inside, clutching a bundle of cloth with a little pinkish scrunched up face. But the baby's bluish eyes were open, and it was staring around at everything.
John had his mouth open to ask, but before he could say anything, Rose answered, "He's a boy."
Slowly, almost afraid, John reached towards the baby. Rose set him in John's arms, seemingly oblivious to John's fear of dropping him. Rose kept her hand on the baby's soft head, smiling down at him.
Again, John was about to ask, but before he could, Rose answered the unspoken question. "I was thinking we might name him Matthew. We could call him Matt for short."
John gazed down at his new son. "Matthew." he said, trying it out. The baby glanced up at him, and John said it again. "Matthew. Matt Smith. Perfect."
The baby opened his mouth and, if John hadn't known that babies that small are incapable of it, he could have sworn that Matt was smiling.
.
Just over five years later, little Matt raised his head from the couch where he'd been watching his favorite television show while lying upside down and eating chips.
"Mum?" he said.
"Yes?" asked Rose, who was at the desk working on paperwork for Torchwood. "What is it, sweetie?"
He pointed at the telly. "I wanna be an actor when I grow up."
"I'm sure you will be, sweetie." said Rose absentmindedly.
Matt slumped back on the couch, turning his green eyes back to the telly, where someone was running away from a giant explosion. "And don't call me sweetie, Mum." he muttered, "It's annoying."
I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! What have I done?!
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