07 MONTHS OLD
He could hear her stirring through the baby monitor attached to his hip and the Doctor turned from the console to begin his walk towards Clara's room, frown set on his face because they'd just put her down for the night and, he knew, Clara hadn't gotten much sleep in days. She was worried about all of the time they'd been spending in the Tardis; she was talking about maybe going back home for a while.
Entering the room slowly, he looked at the bright eyes that peered up at him instantly from between the wooden bars, reddened around the edges as her lips pouted and shuddered and the Doctor rushed forward, throwing a quick look to Clara, asleep in her bed, before bending over the crib to make faces at the girl. Her small mouth opened slightly, revealing bare gums and she slowly began to cry.
"No," the Doctor moaned, "No, no, no, no, no!"
Ella continued crying anyways, her sobs growing in volume and the Doctor turned swiftly when he heard Clara mumble something as she shifted in bed. He whipped his head back to the baby reaching up for him and then slapping the bedding at either side of her body before she began to turn over, crawling to the edge of the crib to lift herself up.
He wanted to pick her up, to comfort her with a walk around the corridors, but he could hear Clara's voice clearly in his head, an argument from a few days before, "No, Doctor, she needs to learn to sleep in her own bed. A little crying won't hurt her, trust me."
And he had, he'd trusted her by ignoring her when she slept and he was working on the Tardis and the monitor perched atop the console, or attached to his hip, alerted him to Ella's cries. But Clara knew and she had threatened to lock her door if he didn't stop, so with a frown, he looked down at the infant who was reaching for him, and he shook his head, telling her quietly, "Mummy says you sleep in the crib."
"Dadda," the girl wailed in response.
He picked her up and laid her down on her back, throwing the blanket over her body and turning just as she let out a screech that made Clara inhale sharply. The Doctor watched the pained expression on her face… she needed to sleep, he knew, and he looked back at Ella, who was picking herself back up again, and he took a long breath and kicked off his shoes, "Mummy didn't say I couldn't climb in with you."
Slowly, he lifted one leg up and over, knowing the weight limit on the crib should carry his thin frame safely, and then brought his body over carefully, hearing Ella's cries quieting as she turned to watch him, one finger tucked into her mouth, a worried look on her face. And then she smiled. The Doctor spread himself down onto the mattress, knees bent awkwardly, and he looked to the girl who released the wooden bars and dropped onto his stomach, calling out to him loudly.
"Shhhh," he urged, one finger on his lips, listening to Ella laugh as she dropped her head on his chest. "Mummy is sleeping and mummy needs her sleep – do you know what she did today?" He eyed the girl, "We went to a marketplace and it was supposed to be for a few minutes, but I got a bit carried away…" he trailed, glancing at Clara, now resting peacefully, "Well, a lot carried away, and we didn't have a stroller, or the strappy thinger you love so much, and mummy carried you in her arms for hours, which is an awful lot of time to be carrying a baby, even one as small as you."
Ella scratched at his waistcoat as she continued to grin at him, babbling nonsense that meant, "Mummy didn't mind, she told me stories and sang me songs and we looked at all of the pretty things."
He smoothed her wild hair back down onto her head as she pumped her legs just at his side and then released a small squeal of a laugh, turning her face and rubbing her hair into his ribs, tussling her hair in every direction before she calmed. "Aren't you a silly girl."
She laughed.
"Let's try to get some sleep so mummy can get some sleep," he nodded to the child as she hummed.
Ella pointed at his face, reaching until her cool fingers landed at his chin, and she smiled, one leg lifting to stretch over his stomach, the other still planted into the mattress. "Will you stay here?" the baby asked him in a set of mumbles and head bops.
The Doctor reached out to nudge her cheek and then he sighed and nodded, settling himself into the mattress and lifting Ella onto his stomach, hand securely at her back. "Until you fall asleep."
"Dadda," she said softly, and in the subsequent string of syllables, the Doctor knew she'd asked, "Will you stay with me forever?"
He considered the question and he considered the answer, glancing again at Clara, asleep in her bed. It was inevitable, he knew, that she'd want to go home. Clara would want to give Ella as normal a life as she possible could and that involved walking away from the Tardis and allowing Ella to grow up in real time on Earth. He smiled down at the girl, "You know, you lucked out Ella. Because you're going to have the most wonderful mum in the universe and she's going to love you so much."
Because he was absolutely sure Clara would take the girl as her own, just as soon as she allowed herself to accept that the girl's real mother was gone. And as soon as she allowed herself to accept that the baby girl she'd been raising already knew no one else but Clara as her mother. He listened to the baby mumble, "Mumma," into his chest and he could feel the small yawn the girl gave, one that he mimicked, suddenly feeling exhausted himself.
"Let's just close our eyes a moment, Ella," he told her softly, rubbing small circles onto the girl's back with one hand while tugging her blanket out from underneath him. He let the soft cloth fall gently onto her back as he sighed, "Just a moment."
It was hours later when Clara opened her eyes to look up at the ceiling of her bedroom, turning quickly to look towards the crib just a few feet away and she frowned when she saw the knees jutting out between the bars. Throwing back the sheets, she sat up and smiled, a huff of air escaping her nostrils as she realized what she was seeing. She stood slowly, stretching against a long sleep and she called out quietly, "Doctor?"
The man inside the crib was on his back, one arm curled over the baby on his chest, the other lying flat at his side, and Clara laughed softly, offering Ella a bright smile when she opened her eyes to smile up at her. "Dadda," the girl whispered, before making a long shushing sound as Clara lifted her up into her arms.
"Hi, baby girl," Clara whispered, "Let's go get some breakfast."
She plucked the girl's travel bag up off a rocking chair and draped it over her shoulder as Ella touched her chin and dropped her head into her shoulder. Clara heard the crib groan as the man inside turned onto his side, and she watched him lift Ella's blanket to his neck as he murmured nonsense in his sleep. She gripped the wooden edging and watched the girl point at him and she sighed, looking back to the girl who repeated, "Dadda."
With a nod, Clara asserted with a smile and a poke to her belly, "Dadda is silly," before making her way out of the room admitting, "But he's a good dad."
