A/N: Occasionally over on my writing tumblr (nehswritesstuffs), I open up prompting. Sometimes I get requests for new ideas, but there are other times where I get prompts for preexisting stories. Since, let's face it, FFN's outgoing link system on the profile pages has always been off-and-on dodgy, I'm going to post them on here in their own story as well. This does not mean I take prompts/requests at all times, because I sadly don't always have the time and resources.

The Time That We Love Best Prompts

Prompter: DominusTempori

Prompt: How about...either while at the hospital, or a few days after they've left (without knowing how visiting hours would've worked in 1948 in London) Granddad David meets little David for the first time?

Originally Posted: 11 May 2015

Notes: 832 words; takes place on 26 September 1948 (the day after Davey's birth); makes reference to Dave and John's conversation from chapter fifty-five

Dave Oswald fidgeted in his seat as the train slowed to a halt in the station. The entire ride he had been drumming his fingers and bouncing his knee and swearing up and down he was gaining more grey hair by the hour. He stood and got his luggage from the overhead compartment as soon as the carriage stopped and was the first passenger out on the platform.

"Hey! Over here!" a familiar voice called out. Dave looked and saw John walking his way down the platform, the two men greeting one another with a hug. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too. God, I got the first train I could and the ride was still torture."

"You can tell me all about it on the way to the hospital," John chuckled. He took his father-in-law's bag and led him out to the carpark, where his trusty motor vehicle was ready and waiting for them. After a quick stop at home to drop off the suitcase, the two men made their way to the hospital. As nervous as Dave had been on the train, he was considerably more nervous as they wound through the London surface streets, and not simply because of the driver's less-than-stellar capabilities.

Once at the hospital they checked in at the front desk and found that Clara had been moved out of the maternity ward into a private room to make way for some training equipment to be used by students later that week. They navigated the corridors and found her sitting up in bed, hunched over the bundle in her arms as she whispered to soothe her fussy child. Dave's chest swelled in joy as he saw her, further more when her face lit up at the sight of him.

"Dad! You came!" she grinned. Clara let her dad kiss her on the cheek and watched as he sat down in the chair next to her bed, with John taking the bit on the end of the mattress she was not tall enough to occupy. "I can't believe you made it all the way over here… and on a Sunday…"

"Anything for my only daughter," he replied, taking her hand in one of his. "Now, where's this little chap that has decided to finally grace us with his presence?"

"Davey, meet your Granddad," Clara cooed to the child, passing him over to her dad. Dave held the boy, carefully rocking him as he fell back asleep.

"Oh, Clara… just look at him," he sniffled. Already holding back tears, he wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve and lightly traced the infant's face with a fingertip. "You looked the exact same way when you slept in my arms. If only Ellie could be here…"

"She is, Dave," John nodded. "Elena's alive in your memory, and I bet she's every bit as proud as you imagine." He paused for a moment, looking at the three generations of Oswald-Smiths pensively. "We're it, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Dave choked out. He ran his finger up and around Davey's head, playing with his barely-there hair. "Ellie was the only child of an only surviving child of an only surviving child on all sides, and my family never stuck around one another long enough to grow close. I wasn't kidding when I told you I understand being alone." He then broke out into a sob, taking his grandson's hand between his thumb and forefinger. "Now we're less alone, thanks to this one here. David James… you know, you really shouldn't have…"

"It was either name him David after his living grandparent or name him John and get a divorce," Clara chuckled. She leaned forward enough to put a hand on her father's shoulder and sigh. "We're not going to argue it."

"I'm not against the David part, but adding James…"

"After m' Uncle Jaime, so don't go getting any ideas," John smirked. "That's as creative as the men in my family get and don't think we won't capitalize on that."

"Fair enough—you win," Dave laughed weakly. He looked down at Davey and saw that his eyes were now open, though just a crack, and let out half a giggle as his voice rose in pitch. "Hey there… how are ya? I'm your granddad, your mum's dad, one of the men whose name you carry. It's a pleasure to meet you, and after all this time. I should have done this years ago with your sister already, but some things turn out the way they do for a reason."

"Dad, you're so dramatic," Clara groaned. "Let's get him to an age where he can understand first, then we can have John explain that to his heart's content."

"I'm just happy, Clara," Dave said. "Really happy… so happy, I don't have words." He watched as Davey closed his eyes again and fell back asleep, bouncing him softly. "When you hold your first grandchild, then you'll understand."

"I'm sure I will, Dad."