Prompter: suindara

Prompt: About TTTWLB please: I would like to read how Granddave moved to John and Clara's house. I guess that it was after their nest emptied (in chapter 12 of TTTWLB prompt fills).

Originally posted: 12 April 2017

Notes: 687 and 1127 words, for a total of 1814; takes place in 1972; Clara is 53, Dave is 77, and John is 80; this reminds me of how the Doctor is sort of like a multi-disciplinarian scientist/tinkerer/handyman in Doctor Who proper and that can translate to being a do-it-yourselfer in the home improvement category for human!Doctor AUs; since this is a best-case-scenario version when it comes to what Dave Oswald does with his life as a widow, he only dated Linda for a while when Clara was a young adult and didn't marry her, and I do believe that Clara, especially Clara Smith, would be leagues more willing to do things like move her dad into her house if the Linda Factor was null.

February

Clara was positively livid as she got off the train and hailed a taxi that could take her straight to where she needed to go without worrying about navigating a bus schedule she hadn't needed looking at in years. There were plenty of things that were angering her at this point, yet none of them were nearly to the degree of why she was currently in Blackpool, making her way through the city of her youth, exiting the taxi in front of the hospital and storming her way up to the front desk. She found where her father was located and immediately went there, finding that Dave was sleeping. There were stitches on his forehead where he had cracked his head open on the countertop, which made things look all the more grisly. Sitting down in the chair next to his bed, she waited for him to wake up, a scowl on her face.

"Clara…?" he marveled as he floated back into consciousness. "You didn't come all the way here from London, did you?"

"You lied to me," she frowned. The words made him flinch. "You said you were taking your medication, that you were keeping up on things, that I shouldn't worry, and that was only two months ago. How long have you not been doing what you're supposed to?"

"Clara…"

"Don't you 'Clara' me, not after laying on the kitchen floor for two days."

Dave sighed heavily in defeat. "I haven't taken it at all—I've been doing well without it… for the most part."

"Heart medicine is nothing to ignore," she scolded. "You had a heart attack, as in you almost died, and less than a month before Wynn's wedding. I thought you said you wanted to see that, let alone when she and Davey graduate at term's end."

"I do, but…"

"But what?! Dad, you're turning seventy-eight this year and aren't in the best of shape for your age… you need to take care of yourself now more than ever if you want to make it to these things! We were lucky that it was just a heart attack and that the postman found you!"

"I'm fine though…"

"No, you're not; it's ridiculous that we are even having this conversation."

"It's my life, Clara…"

"…and I am not losing both my parents before I'm ready!"

Silence fell upon the room, with no noise between them aside from the steady beep of the heart monitor. Father and daughter avoided one another's gaze as the beeping slightly sped up, then calmed again.

"Clara," Dave said wearily. He reached out and took his daughter's hand in his, attempting to keep his composure. "I know it was hard when your mum died, but Ellie was more than just your mum to me."

"Yeah, I know—you nearly walked into the street in front of a car, which you weren't used to watching out for at the time, and she saved you."

"…and I couldn't save her when she needed me most. I just want to see her again…"

"Dad, Mum died of tuberculosis, not anything you could have helped," Clara replied quietly. "We're just lucky that we didn't catch it… I'm lucky that you didn't catch it and follow her. Fifteen and alone? I wouldn't be where I am right now, that's for certain."

"You're not fifteen anymore… your daughter isn't even fifteen anymore…"

"No, but I am old enough to know that what you're doing is reckless, not to mention even more selfish than me wanting to keep you alive."

"I'm not so sure about that," he sighed.

"Sarah Jane passed last year and John has considered himself on 'borrowed time' for over two—not only would he lose it, but the kids would as well," she scolded. She squeezed his hands a little tighter, careful not to put pressure on the IV. "Just know you have other options, okay? For now though, you need to take your medicine, you stubborn old fool."

"Yeah, watch out—I hear that sort of thing doesn't skip a generation."

At least that was something they could both laugh at.

July

It had been an intense few months as Clara and her father figured out what they were going to do. The two had argued back and forth, neither budging on their stance. Dave did not want to move out of his house and into an old folks' home, nor did he want someone barging in every day in order to tell him what to do. Meanwhile, Clara was firm on the fact that he needed someone watching over him, telling him what to do because she now lived in London and a move would have been disastrous for her. It went 'round and 'round and 'round over a couple different phone calls, and even during his time in town for Wynn's wedding, until John had picked up the kitchen phone while Clara was in the sitting room, bringing the argument to a dead halt.

"Move in with us—we've got the room—and then we can gang up on her and she'll have two old men to boss around."

That sealed the deal.

A couple hours each day, John conscripted Davey into helping him with the formal sitting room's transformation into Dave's new living quarters. The young man helped his father haul old furniture down the stairs into the basement, got up on ladders to reach stubborn wallpaper bits, and even had to learn how to install a new light fixture while standing precariously on the top of a ladder. He nearly failed his final portfolio because of the home improvement projects, but every time he expressed worry over his grades, his father scoffed at the idea.

"Your stuffy professors in their ivory towers probably don't even know what good art is anyhow—not to mention you're going to be working for me, and I say you're more than talented enough."

With that, they continued on, with Davey barely scraping together a portfolio worthy of his newfound degree and John reveling in fact that his son was now his ultimate assistant. While Dave was scheduled to begin moving his things in when he arrived to watch his grandchildren graduate university, it wasn't until late into July before he actually began the process. Davey picked the figurative short straw and ended up being the one to head to the train station the afternoon his grandfather came in, greeting the man on the platform.

"It's good to see you," he said, taking the suitcases from his grandfather. "The ride wasn't too terrible, was it?"

"Dreadful, but I'm sure you know that by now," Dave nodded. He grabbed onto Davey's arm so as to not lose him and allowed his grandson to lead the way through the crowded station and into the carpark. "I still think this is ridiculous—I shouldn't have to be here."

"You know you do, Granddad," Davey replied. They reached his father's junker old car and he put the suitcases in the boot before they both got into in the car. "I thought you wanted to do this."

"I did, but now I don't know anymore."

"Come on—I did not have Dad order me around for three months for you to get cold feet. You're being silly." Davey started up the cart and drove out of the carpark, headed towards Grynden.

"We'll see how you like it when you have to abandon the house you lived in for decades, only to be shoved in with family that has their own lives to live," Dave grumbled. "Wynn's kid might give you no choice; it could even be a court order."

"Hey, I'm not that pessimistic," Davey laughed. "It could be my own kid that orders me to move in with them one day. Just because Wynn can't keep her hands off Orson while I don't even have a girlfriend doesn't mean that I'm never going to have a family of my own."

"It's still going to be interesting that visiting Gran and Granddad will also include Granddave and Uncle Davey," the older man snarked. He glanced over at his namesake and saw the frown on his face. "Oh, come on… I remembered what you said after graduation: build up funds first, then head off on your own. Could be a while before that becomes a reality—you could be an uncle two or three times over, bless Orson."

"Yeah," Davey muttered lowly.

"Going by your father's timeline, you have until, what, 1996? Is that math right?"

"It is, because I've done it before, and I don't like thinking that if I do attempt something like Mum and Dad did, then I'd have three years before I start searching the cradles."

"Maybe Wynn's kid can introduce you to a classmate? You never know."

"I'm going to need you to shut up now, Granddad, or you'll be attempting to navigate an unfamiliar bus system in a few minutes," Davey deadpanned. Most of the remaining ride was quiet and they turned down Grynden without much fuss. "Here we are: home."

"Home is still in Blackpool for me—it'll take a while."

"Hey, beats living with a bunch of old codgers."

"No—that'll be you in two minutes," Dave chuckled as his grandson pulled into the driveway. John and Clara must have been watching for them, because they both came out to greet him immediately.

"Glad you made it safe, Dad," Clara said. She gave him a hug that she had a difficult time ending, breaking it to help him into the house. "Here; let's get you settled in."

"I'm old, not an invalid," her father scowled.

"Some people think that's one in the same."

"Don't remind m—"

Dave stopped and stared at the set of double doors that were blocking off what he had known as the formal dining room from the rest of the house. He opened one of the doors cautiously, peeking into his new room. There was a bed, a chair, a chest of drawers, and even the wardrobe that he had shipped over two weeks prior. Fresh paint replaced wallpaper and there was a new rug sitting on the floor.

"Do you like it?" Clara asked.

"Roomier than I expected," he replied.

"What were you expecting?" John wondered as he and Davey brought in the suitcases.

"Not sure, but it's better than being alone in that old house," Dave shrugged. He went over to the bed and unzipped a suitcase that had been placed atop it. "When are we going back next?"

"Late next month—want you to get some rest first before heading all that way again," Clara said. She allowed a kiss from her husband before going to her father's side. "We'll figure out the rest of the stuff at the house, don't worry."

"Okay," he nodded, lying only just a little.