There weren't many opportunities that a Time Lord ever found a moment peaceful and quiet enough to only focus on one singular sliver of time. Too many thoughts, sensations, and other distractions always seemed to weave their way into their consciousness, a disadvantage of an evolved, over-connected brain. It took special instances- or, in an even rarer case, extraordinary people- to truly plant a memory forever in a Time Lord mind, for the timelines of the universe to converge on a sole experience.
Of course, nothing of the sort was happening now, the Doctor mused to himself, glancing at the smile of his companion. It's just Clara. Currently, they were currently seated on the threshold of the TARDIS, watching the brilliant burning of star SN 1987A in the Large Magellanic Cloud. Any second now, entropy would take its physical course and cause the supernova, space exploding in a rainbow of gases and elements. Safe from the colossal detonation inside the protective shell, the Doctor hoped to show her every second of such a miraculous event.
"It's beautiful, Doctor," Clara said from next to him, unexpectedly scooting closer to him on the edge of the time machine, resting her head close to his shoulder. "Thank you for taking me here."
The man stiffened for a while. Although he was more inclined to hugs and other general displays of affection now than he had once been, this level of physical touch was still a stretch for him. Not knowing what else to do, the Doctor cleared his throat and replied, letting himself just feel the weight and warmth of her being. "Absolutely, Clara," he simply said, looking at her.
Clara met his eyes and grinned even more extensively, her eyes widening to create a shocking ratio of pupil roundness to face. "Well then, go on, don't leave me hanging," she shot back. "Tell me about these planets and these stars."
The Doctor nodded his head. Boring bits of trivia- this was territory that he could deal with. However, just as he was about to go into a detailed explanation of neutrinos, the TARDIS started to shake, softly at first, and then more violently.
"Doctor-?" Clara questioned, trying to get up on her feet. "What?"
"Clara, stay-"The Time Lord warned-
The space around them suddenly combusted into a white brightness that was blinding, and stars seemed to race around them. Horrified, the Doctor watched, amidst all the chaos of the shaking atmosphere, as Clara fell backwards into the time machine. He rushed quickly over to take her hand and pull her back up again, more into the safety of the TARDIS.
He couldn't reach her though. Something was preventing him from bending over and touching Clara, like a hidden force field. "Clara!" he yelled, panicking, desperately hitting the invisible blockade as hard as he could, before he was hardly able to take a breath- because, the Doctor realized, horrified, the oxygen of the safety of the TARDIS shell had been ripped to shreds in the pandemonium of the moment. "Clara-" He whispered, his eyes closing shut, feeling his way around the light, desperately trying to catch sight of her body again.
And then the universe faded, gently, softly out of his vision, until all was black.
Warmth enveloped him from all around. Sighing and squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden sunlight filtering into the room, the Doctor moved to pull the white linen sheets of the bed more towards him. Smiling in contentment at the most welcome softness of the covers, he snuggled in closer to the radiating heat of the body next to him, its brown hair tickling his nose.
Despite the comfortable position, the Time Lord frowned to himself, eyes still closed. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be in bed, next to this body. Hadn't he just been in space, hadn't he seen Clara Oswald hit her head on the TARDIS floor? He couldn't bring her to safety, and he couldn't take care of her. Oh, Clara…
"Clara!" the Doctor exclaimed fitfully as he shot up straight from the bedsheets and scuttled out of the bed, limbs scrambling themselves in knots as he made an attempt to survey the scene he had just left. Hesitantly, he moved over to the other side of the bed from the one he had just got off from to catch a glance of the body that had been next to his. As slowly as he could, he peeled the linen that was shielding the occupant's face and form, fully prepared for a Zygon or some other monster.
"CLARA!?" The Time Lord gasped, gawking instead at the sleeping features of his companion, yet again scooting backward from the scene before him- a very peaceful, resting, clad-only-in-underwear-and-a-bra Clara Oswald. Panicking at the sight, the Doctor managed to get a good look at himself to see if he was defective too, groaning and starting to sweat at the revelation that he as well was absolutely starkers save his pants. "CLARA? What's going on?" He questioned running back towards the bed and swatting her face. "Wake up!"
"Mmm, Doctor, just five more minutes, okay?" Clara replied sleepily, making an attempt to grab the covers back from his hands. "I deserve a little more sleep."
"No, Clara," the Doctor refused, dropping the linens on the ground and grabbing her shoulders. "You need to wake up now."
Sighing dejectedly, the Time Lord watched as Clara opened her eyes and stared at him, blinking away the sleep, lifting herself up and positioning herself on the edge of the bed. "Doctor? What's the matter?" She asked immediately, her pupils widening. "You're never like this. You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"What's the matter?" the Doctor spluttered. "The matter is, Clara, that we were both in bed and naked. Doesn't that seem, I don't know, a little strange to you?"
The Impossible Girl smirked at him. "What I would find strange is the father of my children shocked at the thought of spending the night in bed with me." She shook her head and got up from the sheets, walking over to a cabinet and starting to rummage through it for an undershirt.
The Time Lord's breathing grew hitched and he couldn't help but barely contain a shout at Clara's flippant attitude. "The father of- Clara!" He followed her to the cabinet. "What?"
"Doctor, be quiet," the woman begged, tugging at his shoulders to stop him. "You'll wake up the baby."
Eyes widening, the Doctor was about to comment on the infant child development before a wail broke out from across the room.
"See?" Clara groaned, dropping any attempt at searching for an undershirt and sprinting to the crib on the other side of the bedroom. "You woke Jonathan, and he was sleeping so nicely too."
"Jonathan?" The man asked, fearful but yet uncharacteristically joyous at the sight of his Clara lifting a small child, nine months old at the most, from underneath a mobile of stars and planets. Mesmerized, he watched for a few seconds as Clara rocked the red-faced baby in her arms, cooing at it until its screams had developed more into tiny whimpers. The Doctor decided to try questioning Clara again on what exactly was happening, but instead was interrupted by a quiet voice.
"Mum? Dad? What's going on?" the inquisitive air of an older child, with chestnut shoulder-length hair sounded. Both the Doctor and Clara turned their attentions from Jonathan to the form of a preteen girl in the doorway.
"Another one?" The Gallifreyan quipped, his eyebrows furrowing in Clara's direction. "There's another one?"
"Doctor, shh," the woman huffed, before glancing back at the girl. "Nothing's going on, Allison; your father just woke up a bit confused this morning. Go get your brother up and get ready for school, yeah?"
"I'm already up, Mummy," a noise resounded as another kid, a boy six years old or so with a mop of light brown hair, appeared near the entryway. "What were you and Daddy yelling about?"
"Nothing, Lucas, nothing. We're just trying to get ready. Go down and get breakfast along with Allison, okay? I'm sure your Dad will be down to help you two out soon, got it?"
"Yes, Mum," Lucas and Allison nodded their heads at the statement and moved away from their parents' bedrooms, marching down the stairs towards the kitchen in their pajamas.
More bewildered than ever, the Doctor swiveled around to his companion, who was still managing to soothe the small child in her arms, snug in his onesie and his mother's arms. "Clara, believe me, I really don't know what's going on right now. The last time I remember us being together, we were on the TARDIS, and there was some temporal disturbance-"
"Oh, well, that must explain my crazy headache right now," Clara quipped. She exhaled. 'Really, Doctor, the joking isn't funny anymore. Please just help me this morning with how to figure this entire thing out. Please."
"Clara, I honestly don't know what's going on here. I don't," the Time Lord tried to explain, gesturing to Jonathan and the doorway where their supposed other two children had been.
The woman sighed. "I'm sure you'll come to your senses once you make the kids breakfast. Just do that for me, alright?" She lifted up the baby, his soft brown curls shining in the sunlight. "I'll take care of this one." Rolling her eyes exasperatingly at the Doctor's still confused expression, she shook her head. "Please, Doctor. Just go downstairs and pour them some cornflakes and get a banana or two. Please. We can discuss temporal anomalies and the like later."
He didn't want to- by all means, he just wanted to figure out what was happening, and not engage with pudding brain children in any way- but the stressed and pleading eyes of Clara Oswald finally did him in. "Of course, Clara," he muttered.
"Thank you," Clara smiled as she moved to peck the Doctor with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you down there."
Grinning weakly, the Time Lord tried to calm his breathing as he walked out of the bedroom toward the flight of stairs in the middle of the second floor. Not only had Clara's lips dared to seek out his skin, but there were three children, a house, and a shared bed involved. The man shook his head as he cautiously meandered down the steps, until his eyes caught sight of the pictures on the left side of the wall above him and he stopped in his tracks.
Clara in a wedding dress, white veil and all, laughing at the bug-eyed expression of the Doctor in a suit. The pair in normal day clothes, proudly holding up the mortgage papers for their new house. Three sets of pictures involving an exhausted Clara beaming beatifically at the sight of an infant in her arm, joined by her growing family in each one. Clara holding up an "Excellence in Teaching" award in front of Coal Hill. Allison and Lucas smiling, arms around each other in a hug in front of what looked like the London Eye, and a family portrait of him, Clara, and their three kids.
Hearing the teasing of the two older children serving themselves breakfast, the Doctor felt his doom approach ever closer as he came downstairs, a ringing question vibrating through his mind, threatening to stay there until it was answered.
How had he ever become so domestic?
I should not be starting another chapter fic with these two but I so impossibly needed some fluff surrounding these two after the brutal events of Face the Raven, and I'd had an idea for this for a long time. So here we are.
As this fic progresses the rating might go up, as there will be more mature themes and scenes (wink wink), but as for now it's going to be left pretty general.
Again, I will try to keep this as updated regularly as possible, but I'm still in school, sadly, and college apps always beckon.
Thank you for reading and please be sure to leave kudos, bookmarks, and reviews! They are a real help to my creative process. Love you guys, and thanks tons.