Disclaimer: I know absolutely NOTHING about how hospitals and hospital procedure works, especially of this nature. I have NO experience in this area. This chapter probably contains more technical flaws and "That would never happen"s than anything I've posted so far. Please forgive this. Also I may edit this later like I edited Happily Ever After to make it less one-character-centric. I was debating whether I should make this part of Not Domestic or as its own story, but I really think it should go here.
The Doctor paced, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair. His single heart raced, pounding in his ears. He was practically shaking – no, he was shaking - in frightened anticipation. He muttered to himself under his breath; he should have seen this coming, he should have taken her somewhere safer, they should have been more prepared. Now there was no telling what could happen. Something could go wrong and Rose could di- No. He could not think like that. He would not allow it. She was fine. She was just in the other room, and they were all fine.
The Doctor glanced back at the door again, his eyes darting around the room. He took in every inch of his surroundings, if for nothing else than to occupy his mind. Everything around him was white. The walls were white, the floor was white, the door was white. Not a brilliant white, mind you, just a plain one; one that might have been more light-blue or grey if the lighting was right, the kind of white-washed white that people paint when they do not know what other color to use. The door was still closed. He could see nothing through the small slightly obscured window in it. He vaguely noticed the other people in the room going about their business or waiting much more patiently than him. How could they sit so still at a time like this? How could they walk so calmly? He turned again and paced back.
In the corner he saw Jackie Tyler watching him, perhaps the only person in the room or the only person on earth that shared his terrible stress. She was, for once, silent. It was rather unnerving, actually: Jackie Tyler rendered speechless. She simply stared at him, and glanced as he did at the door. She bit her lip, and they waited.
The Doctor was more on edge than he had been in many, many years. A thousand scenarios ran through his head. He wished he could just know. The suspense was worse than any of the situations which he could think of – or at least worse than any of them which he would allow himself to contemplate. What was taking so long? Or perhaps these things always took a long time. He did not know. He only wished that he was with her. He needed to know that she was alright – that they were alright.
It was too much too fast. He knew that this day was coming; he had been awaiting it for some time. But it came so early, and then the doctors said that there were complications. Those were words that no one should ever have to hear. Maybe that was why he hated hospitals so much – no matter how hectic and frantic they were and how dire the situation the doctors always seemed so sickeningly calm. He looked around the room once more and then thanked heaven that at least these doctors were calm, for he could not be, but he needed them to do their very best.
"Doctor?" The single word shattered the Doctor's rapid-fire thoughts. He spun around and found Jackie standing closer to him, her hand on his shoulder. For a short moment they simply stared at each other, both sensing the same desperate worry yet steadfast hope and even excitement in each other's eyes. "It'll be alright." Jackie said in short. The Doctor nodded, but superficially. He went back to his pacing. Two steps later he turned quickly back to her.
"Jackie…" He said, and she looked to him once more. "It'll be alright." He confirmed, with just as much worry and conviction as Jackie had possessed. He had to say it if for nothing else than to hear himself say it, because maybe saying it would make it a little more real. He had to tell her because he knew that she needed to hear it just as much as he did.
He knew that he should not be afraid. Hospitals like this did this every day, several times a day probably. They knew what they were doing and the statistics were all in his favor. But he could not help it. He realized in a flash that it was not the doctors he was worried about – it was not the hospital or the surgery or even Rose; he knew that she was strong. He was worried about him: About what he meant. After all of it, he still felt so unprepared, so unworthy of him. He changed everything.
The Doctor had known that this was coming. He thought he had been prepared. He was wrong. He was not sure anyone could ever prepare for this.
"John Smith?" A friendly female voice could be heard across the room from the door. The Doctor did not stop pacing. Jackie reached out and caught him by the arm. He looked up to see a small woman clad in nurses' clothes holding a clipboard coming towards him. "John Smith?" she addressed him again.
"Oh! Um, yes…" He nodded and tried to pretend that he hadn't momentarily forgotten his name.
"Come with me." She smiled.
This was it. This was the moment that would change his life forever. It was just on the horizon now, and approaching fast. He walked behind the small nurse in a dream-like state lost somewhere between terror and euphoria. With each step the terror subsided and the joy grew, growing into the greatest joy that he had ever felt
The hallway seemed needlessly long, but he did not even think about that. He could not wait to see them. Jackie followed quickly behind him, but he was the first to come around the corner and see in the door.
His mouth fell open. His heart seemed to stop. Or perhaps it began to beat in earnest for the first time. Everything else in the entire world faded away into nothing as his eyes rested upon them at last, the most absolutely beautiful thing that he had ever seen: His Rose sat up in the bed, holding in her arms the newest addition to the world.
"Doctor." She called, smiling radiantly at him as he slowly made his way over from the door, lost in a trance-like fixation on the miracle in her arms. His entire world now lay wrapped in little blue blankets. As he at last reached his wife's side he lost the power to do anything but stop and stare, eyes wide and jaw hanging open in stunning, rapturous joy. "It's a boy." Rose smiled proudly as she watched her husband's reaction.
He took in every detail of the tiny person in her arms. He was so, so small. His little eyes were closed and he slept in his mother's perfect embrace.
"He has your eyes." Rose told him softly.
The Doctor at last regained the strength to take his eyes off of the child and turn to its mother. He at once leaned down and pressed a firm kiss on her forehead, taking her head in his hands. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips, and for a moment he simply gloried in how amazing this woman that he held was. "I love you." He whispered against her. He would never stop saying those words. She truly was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Perhaps this new little one would be the next.
The boy shifted slightly and the Doctor looked back to him again. Rose smiled at the look of absolute wonder that was etched upon every line of the Doctor's face. "Do you want to hold him?"
The Doctor's jaw fell open once more. "Can I?" he stuttered. Rose laughed. The Doctor hoped that this child would have her laugh, and Rose hoped that he would have his father's smile. Both were stunningly beautiful.
"Of course." She shifted her arms underneath her son and the Doctor carefully took ahold of him. He bit his lip as for a moment a flash of fear flooded his heart. He felt as if he was handling something absolutely sacred: Something so pure and innocent and perfect that he should not even be allowed to see it, much less hold it in his arms. What if he messed it up? What if he failed? He already had so many times before, and he had already ruined so many lives. This would be different. It had to be. He swore then and there that it would.
As he took the boy into his embrace something within him melted. He wanted to jump up and down and spin around and sing. He wanted to fall to his knees and weep for joy. He wanted to pour his entire being into this child. He wanted him to know how special he was: How perfect, and beautiful, and extraordinary he was. He wanted him to know how much he was loved. He wanted him to know the joy that rushed through his father's veins. His father. The Doctor's mind halted at those words. He was a father.
For a moment he felt like he might faint, and then like he might fly, and then like he might actually die, but die in the most glorious and brilliant and joyful way possible; to die of sheer love for the child in his arms. He could not seem to speak. He could not even seem to breathe. But none of this mattered. All that mattered was that the little boy in his arms was breathing. His heart was beating. He was alive.
Rose laughed as she watched them. The Doctor swayed slightly back and forth, carrying the child in his arms like the most precious thing that had ever entered this world or any other world besides. He did not seem awkward around the child, but, Rose realized, reverent. He looked back up to her at last, and she found the same joyful reverence reflected towards herself.
"He has your nose." He smiled in practical disbelief, his eyes shining with the utmost delight. Rose's heart swelled in just as much love as his did for both the child and the man that held him.
The little boy was amazing; the perfect combination of his parents. Both of them could see above all else the aspects of each other in him. The Doctor was overjoyed in the knowledge that whatever happened to them some part of Rose Tyler would live on forever. And he realized, with a shock, that so would he. Sometimes he forgot about being mortal, but it made a huge impact on his life. The thought of dying, of growing old. In truth it scared him more than he could say. Even if it was with Rose, it scared him that both of them would age and eventually die. But perhaps he did not need to be afraid. Now he had a son: A legacy. A tribute to his life and his love for Rose Tyler, now Rose Tyler-Smith. A testament that would, in all hope, outlive and outshine them both.
The Doctor looked back down just in time to see a pair of tiny eyes open and focus immediately on his face. His breath caught slightly as he looked for the first time into his son's eyes, and it hit him once more: He had a son. Rose was right; he had his father's eyes. And in them he could swear that he could see more of time and space than he had ever seen before.
The Doctor, or 'John Smith', was such a unique being; part human and part Time Lord. But all of a sudden he was not alone. He was no longer the last of the Time Lords. He carefully sat down in the chair beside Rose's bed and took a firm hold on her hand. She smiled and watched him and rested. And after a long moment he moved to hand their son back to his mother. She accepted him into the perfect niche that her arms cradled him in, and he rested gently against her. The Doctor kissed his wife's brow once more, and then bent to kiss his son.
His mind drifted back to ages long, long ago. He had had a family, once. He had been a father. But everything on Gallifrey was so different. The looms, the academy, he hated it. But this – this was what fatherhood should be. He had lost his family in the Time War, either by the Dalek or his own hand, in the chaos he could not even be sure. He would not lose this one. Ever. As he held his wife and newborn son in his arms the loss that had haunted him for so long somehow seemed banished far away. It felt as if a great load that he had been carrying for so long that he did not even notice that it was there had been lifted off of his heart as he realized that he could do this. He could be a father. He was a father.
It had not been easy getting the boy into the world. He was several weeks pre-mature and the doctors had to perform an emergency caesarian section, which is why the Doctor had not been in the room. He hoped that Rose was alright. Her smile told him that she was. He at last remembered that Jackie Tyler was also in the room and had been watching them the whole time, having come up to the other side of the bed. She smiled and placed a gentle hand on her grandson's face, and Rose smiled up at her.
"He's perfect." Jackie whispered, voicing what everyone in the room already knew. The Doctor smiled proudly as he looked over his perfect little family. Pete and Tony could not be there, but he knew that they would be coming through the door any moment now. Tony would be exited that he was an uncle, and Pete, in some way, a grandfather.
It was this moment that confirmed once again what the Doctor had already told himself a thousand times: It was all worth it: Having just one life, being trapped in this domestic, parallel world. It was all worth it. They made it worth it. He was so, so blessed; blessed beyond all measure. He had so much more than he could have ever dreamed, and so much more than he deserved.
"What'll you name him?" Jackie's voice once again pierced his thoughts. The Doctor's brow knotted and he looked to Rose. They had discussed several names, but the boy was so early that they never came to an absolute decision.
"Doctor?" She looked back up to him, prompting him to choose. The Doctor looked to his son and said the first name that came to his mind. Somehow he knew that it was the right one.
"David." He said. Beloved. For that is what he was. It was a strong, adventurous, brave name: A name that reflected joy and peace and honor and gentleness and love.
"David." Rose repeated with a warm smile in a tone of affection that only a mother could possess. The Doctor knelt by her bedside and cradled both Rose and David in his arms, pressing his face beside hers and holding them in his embrace. He whispered his love to his wife again and they shared another kiss. Jackie pulled a camera out of her purse, but he did not even care. Somehow, even in the months leading up to this moment, none of this had seemed quite real. But it was real. And it was wonderful. His eyes turned back to his little son once more. He leaned forward to press his lips gently against his tiny head again. Rose smiled and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as he bent over her.
"I love you, David." He whispered. It had taken him long enough to say it to Rose, he would not waste any time saying it to their son. And he promised that he would never ever stop saying it to either of them, and never stop meaning it with all of his heart. He wished that he could say more. He could sense David's young mind even now. There was a little life inside this tiny, precious, fragile body: A person. The most brilliant person alive. He adored every breath that this little person took and he would continue to do so forever. He hoped that the child knew. He pressed his brow to the tiny brow of his son. Whether from his telepathic ability or simply the blood bond of father and son, he spoke to David. 'You are fantastic.' He said 'Absolutely brilliant. You will see the stars and change the world. But most importantly, you are loved. Your mother and I love you, David.' He addressed the boy by name in his thoughts. "I love you. We love you." He whispered aloud once more.
David laughed.
The Doctor was not positive he could speak perfect baby – the most pure, heartfelt, and personal of all languages – but he was perfectly sure in what he heard. He smiled.
"What did he say?" Rose laughed. She did not think that the Doctor actually knew, but as he looked to her something in his eyes told her that he spoke the truth.
"He says he loves us too." The Doctor smiled, his face a picture of absolute bliss. Rose leaned forward and kissed him one more time for good measure. David made some more noise and the Doctor pulled away with his own laugh.
"Now he says he's hungry."
Rose rolled her eyes and Jackie laughed. Rose pulled her son even closer to her and hugged him and kissed him again. The Doctor smiled – in fact he had not stopped smiling since he had first come in the room, and he was not sure that he would be able to stop any time soon. He might just be stuck like this forever, but that was alright. Because he loved them, and they were wonderful. The fact never ceased to amaze him: He had a family. A real, honest-to-goodness, till-death-do-us-part, one-big-happy family. The one adventure that he could never have was now his life forevermore. He could hardly believe it. Sometimes he wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was still true. But the steady beating of his single heart testified to his being alive, and his very being alive testified to his love for them.
It was truly amazing what being a father did to a man, even if he was more than 900 years old. It would take a lot of getting used to, but the Doctor realized that he wanted to be used to it more than he wanted anything else in the world. He wanted this to be his everyday life. And he realized with one last wave of brilliant ecstasy that it now was.
A million thoughts flew through his head as he considered the wonderful opportunity to watch David grow up and to help him along the way. He saw him striving to even greater heights than his father had; dreaming impossible dreams and achieving them all. He knew the boy would struggle, but he could sense now that it would be worth it. It was always worth it. He was worth it. The Doctor's millions of thoughts and dreams quieted down inside this one idea: Love was worth it. He held it even now in his arms: His Rose and his David, safe and sound. This was what it meant, he realized, to be a father. It meant to know the truest form of love he had ever known.
A/N: I hope you liked it! I've been meaning to write this FOREVER. Obviously this changes a lot for the Tyler-Smith family, but I'm still going to continue to post non-chronological stories. I just thought David's birth should come before any other mention of him. So he will indeed be in other stories now. As for his name: That actually started as a joke when me an my friend Lindelas were creating this character together, but then we couldn't call him anything else, so it stuck. I hope no one minds my tongue-in-cheek being taken as a serious story element, because I really do love the name David for their son.