My Impossible Girl
A/N: Hey! So this is the start of a fluffy, angsty AU Doctor Who fanfic I've been wanting to write for awhile. Every chapter will be like a oneshot of the father and daughter I've put together, the Doctor's Eleventh Incarnation, and Clara. I know there are Whouffle shippers, but I've always imagined the Doctor and Clara as a daughter and father pair. I am definitely seeing that with Twelve, but I can't help but have a guilty Whouffle heart. Screw my ships, you're here to read! Please enjoy the beginning of this fanfic!
She's wearing a red dress, and her long brown hair is plaited in pigtails.
John Smith stares down at the little girl, his mind going wayward as this child, Clara, looks up at him. His new adopted daughter. A child he now has responsibility for, and a child he's going to raise on his own. He sighs, a sad little smile on his face. He thought it was impossible for him to recover from his state, but maybe with this child, he could achieve what he wanted: happiness.
How had it come to this? Amelia Pond. His best friend, ever since he was a child. Him and Amelia had grown up together in Leadworth, playing games of Doctors and Nurses together. Through middle school, high school and college, they were an impeccable pair, but were never romantically attached to the other. Many had thought so, but they were just friends. No more, no less. John could never see Amelia in that way. Scottish, she was, and much too loud of a voice for his preference. Amelia had agreed, saying that his chin was just too big for her. The two were a duo that could never be defeated, and everybody expected to see one with the other. Until River came along.
River Song. A woman of amazing skill, creative mind, and a wild heart that John Smith had fallen for. They met one night, late on the college campus. She was wildly drunk, and John, being the man he was, escorted her home, and the next morning, found her number in his iPhone. With that one call, the two grew to love each other with a burning passion. River was the perfect companion to John, who was studying to be a doctor. While John studied medicine, River studied history. Two opposite subjects that just intensified their love. Their relationship had blossomed, and River had been one of Amelia's bridesmaids when Amy got married to her longtime boyfriend, Rory Williams. River and John watched as Amelia and Rory became the Williams, and John had proposed marriage to River in inspiration of the happiness that emanated off of Amelia. River had agreed, and they thought they would be together forever, until John found himself alone at the altar on his wedding day.
With a broken heart and a crushed soul, John fell into a deep depression. Thirty years old, a degree in medicine, and he couldn't fix his own broken heart. It was with the support of the Williams family, and good friend David McDonald is that he managed to bring himself out of his hole, managing one day at a time. He regained the soul and energy to throw himself into his work, becoming head doctor at one of the wards in the local hospital, working alongside Rory, who's a nurse. Amelia and David had agreed that though John had mostly recovered, he wasn't all quite there. There used to be a spark, a bright light that just followed John wherever he went. And it was with good heart and connections, John Smith had gone to an adopting agency and applied to adopt a child. And that is how he found himself staring down at the little girl who stood on his doorstep, Amelia right behind her.
Clara Oswin Oswald. Her parents had died in an apparent hit and run accident when she was two. She's been at the orphanage since, and when John applied to adopt, it was Amelia and David who had chosen Clara. And now, little Clara stood on his doorstep, holding a picture book that read '101 Places To See'. Her suitcase was held by Amelia, and John stepped aside, letting the little girl into his small, yet cozy house.
"Clara? This is Mr. John, or John." David's Scottish accent was rather strong as he kneels beside the little girl. His brown hair is spiked up in its usual fashion, and he spoke to Clara with the deepest sincerity John has ever heard him use. "He's going to be taking care of you from now on."
"What about you and Miss Amelia?" Clara's words came out in a whisper, as though worried John would hear it and punish her. Amelia smiled, and kneels next to Clara as well, brushing a hand under Clara's chin.
"We'll visit, hon. John is a very good friend of me and Mr. David's. I promise we will."
"Okay, Miss Amelia."
" 'Atta girl," Amelia laughs softly, and ruffles her hair gently, "John is a very good man. He'll take care of you well."
"Oi, he better, or we'll be forced to come back." David adds in a teasing voice, and he straightens up to look at John. "Well, mate. I hope you don't screw this up."
"I don't think I can." These were the first words John had uttered since Clara had entered his house. Clara looks up in interest at John, really looking at him ever since she enters. Her brown eyes wander from his dark brown trousers, to his tweed blazer, and finally resting on his big, red bowtie that rests at his neck. She turns her attention back to Amelia and David, who both look at John with worry and hope.
"Well, John. I really hope you can do this."
"So do I."
"You've got this, mate." David offers his hand, and John takes it, shaking it firmly as his eyes flicker from David to Clara, who watches with curiosity. "If we didn't think you could do this, we wouldn't have brought her here."
"So, hush up, Raggedy Man." Amelia's special nickname for John was said as she quickly wraps her arms around him, a comforting hug. "We'll be checking on you two later this week, alright?"
"Yes, Amy."
"Yes, Miss Amy."
Clara and John answer Amy at the same time, and exchange dubious looks at they do. With one last hug and a handshake, David and Amy depart the small blue house, leaving John staring at Clara once more, as she holds her picture book in her hands, and her small red suitcase which was almost as big as her, lingering by her side. John stares down at the little girl, and she returns the look. John already knew at this point, it was not going to be easy.
"So, Clara...do you like fish fingers?"
An hour later, Clara sits at his dining table, having to sit on a cushion to be able to look over the table's surface. Her small hands are covered in bits of salt and pepper, as she finishes off the last of the fish fingers that were on her plate. Mr. John was gone, something about her suitcase. She looks around the kitchen, observing the simple decor and the less then elaborate set up. Nothing too fancy, just standard and cozy. The orphanage kitchen was much less nicer then the Mr. John's.
Clara wasn't quite sure how she felt about Mr. John He seemed nice, quieter then Mr. David and a lot less energetic this Miss Amelia. He hasn't said much to her in the past hour, but he did explain that she would be living with him, and that if she needed anything, she just needs to ask. Though, something about him...Clara didn't quite understand. Even when he was smiling, he looked sad. Really sad. Something about his eyes were old, older then him. Clara thought he was the age of Miss Amelia and Mr. David, but his eyes were of one someone older. He had the same eyes as Mr. Duley at the orphanage. had lost his wife, Clara knew that, and he was sad. It was like that. Something sad had happened to Mr. John, and he was still sad.
Taking one last sip of milk, the five year old girl slips off the chair and her feet land flat onto the linoleum flooring. Her feet were cold against the floor, but she ignores it as she wiped her hands against her red dress, and she walks up to the fridge. It was what interested her the most so far, out of the entire house. There weren't a lot of photos anywhere in the house, but there was a bunch of them pinned on the refrigerator. She observed them from her height, having to look up to see them properly.
One of them, Mr. John and Miss Amy were together, sticking their tongues out and laughing. He looked happy, not so sad as now, Clara notes. Another one of him and Miss Amy, this time both of them wearing Mickey hats. But a third one, one pinned with a heart magnet, was interesting. Mr. John was holding the hands of a curly haired, blonde woman. He had the biggest smile on his face, and the woman was looking down at her hand. A big, shiny ring was on her middle finger, and in the background Miss Amy and Mr. David were grinning at the pair. Clara giggles at how big their smiles are, and sees, for the first time, how big Mr. John's chin was. Really big.
"Clara? Do you want me to leave your picture book, sweetie, or-?"
Clara finds John standing beside her, one of her dresses slung over his shoulder and her picture book in his arms. When he sees her looking at the fridge, there are a mix of emotions that are shown on his face. A smile. A frown. And almost something distant, like he lost something. He kneels next to Clara, offering her the picture book, and she takes it hesitantly. John kneels next to the girl, both of them now staring at the refrigerator.
" ...who is that woman?" Clara's small hand raises to point at the picture of him and that curly haired woman, with Miss Amy and Mr. David smiling. John's heart nearly breaks in two as she does, but he knew he must answer her question. Fighting the tears that threaten to appear and slide down his cheeks, he turns to the little girl, swallowing and taking a deep breath, like his therapist had told him to, and spoke.
"That...is a woman named River. River Song." Saying her name was just as bad as losing her. "I...we were friends."
"Is she still your friend?" Clara's words were so innocent, but it cut through John like a knife. She was still beautiful, so beautiful, but she would never be his friend again. She broke him. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, choking on his words for a moment, before letting the next sentence out.
"No. Not anymore, my Clara."