A/N: For Ana, because she feels sick (and someone was being an idiot and reposted something and I WILL STILL SLAY SOMEONE IF I HAVE TO OKAY?! Okay.) Hope this fluff helps you feel better!
It's possibly the scariest thing to happen in his life. Forget Daleks and Cybermen and every monster he's ever fought; Clara in labor is the scariest thing he's ever seen in his life.
It's partially a fear for himself. She hasn't hit him yet, but a few choice words have been aimed in his direction and he's not quite sure what he'll do if she gets truly mad at him. But mainly it's the fact that Clara, his Clara, is in so much pain, and he can't help but feel like it's his fault.
It was her idea to have children. One day they'd been in each other's arms, both drifting to sleep, when Clara had told the Doctor she wanted a baby. He'd thought maybe it was a passing fancy, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it too.
And so they'd spent ten months (Timelord babies took longer than humans) in which the Doctor watched in fascination as Clara grew bigger and bigger. She'd grumbled on and on about how she looked like a whale, but he'd grown more and more smitten by the day. She was beautiful. It got to the point where she actually had to ask him to stop poking at her every five seconds, or feeling for their baby's tiny kicks.
They'd decided on having the baby at Paternoster Row - Jenny was experienced when it came to babies, and since any hospital they went to would probably be a little too interested in a Timelord baby it seemed like the safest option.
An especially loud cry of pain brought him back to the present, clinging tightly to Clara's hand in an attempt to comfort her.
"Oh, this baby's yours, all right," she snapped irritably between gasps for air.
"Sorry…?" the Doctor offered a bit sheepishly.
She groaned again, head falling back against the pillows. "Why did I think this was a good idea? I can't do this, 'm not ready!"
"Hey, hey…" the Doctor soothed, nearly climbing on top of the bed in his haste to get to her. He cupped her cheeks, thumbs gently running along her sweat-soaked skin. "Yes you can. You're my impossible girl, Clara, you can do anything."
She nodded, eyes still fearful, but more determined than ever. "Okay, okay… I can. Our little girl's going to be with us soon."
And so he stayed with her, whispering words of comfort to her as Jenny instructed her to push. Clara clung to his hands tightly, and he desperately hoped that she was somehow drawing strength from him. It seemed to stretch on unbearably, until he was unsure how she was still going when she was in so much pain. His wonder, impossible girl.
At last it was over, and Jenny was grinning at the two proudly and handing over their baby girl."Congratulations, you two." she said. "She's beautiful, and perfectly healthy."
The Doctor stared at his tiny daughter in awe. Her eyes were already open, bright and curious as she regarded her mum. "Oh, she's…"
"She's perfect." Clara said softly. She looked utterly exhausted, but her eyes were shining with pride and love as she held her daughter close. "She's so little… and she looks like you."
"And you." he said, gently tapping her nose. "She's got a funny nose like you."
He reached out, letting his daughter wrap her fingers around his. "She's going to be so smart." she gurgled happily at him, tugging on his finger. "And she recognizes us!"
Clara beamed up at him. "Really?" turning her attention back to the tiny bundle in her arms, she said, "Yeah, that's your daddy. He's got a funny chin, doesn't he?"
"Oi! I do not!" The Doctor protested. His daughter just giggled. "Look what you've done! I think she's laughing at me."
Still, his daughter's laughter was one of the most beautiful things he'd heard in his life, so as far as he was concerned she could laugh at his chin all she liked.
"What are we going to call her?" Clara asked at last, as their daughter's eyelids started to flutter shut and a tiny yawn escaped her lips.
The Doctor thought briefly of past companions, and of his family on Gallifrey. "I wouldn't know what to choose."
"What about Ellie?" asked Clara. "For my mum. If you think it's all right."
He nodded. "Ellie's perfect. Ellie Oswald."
"What about a middle name?"
He thought about it for a moment, watching the way Ellie's nose crinkled just like her mum's. "How about Oswin? For the first version of you that I ever met, who led me to this moment."
Clara smiled softly at that. "Ellie Oswin Oswald. It's perfect."
As if in agreement Ellie cooed, absently waving her hands in the air.
"Oh, Ellie Oswin Oswald…" the Doctor breathed, voice hushed and reverent. "Just you wait. You're going to have the best adventures with your mum and I."