A/N: This came from a prompt that was about Clara and the Doctor's thoughts when the twins were first born, and I ended up tying it in with an earlier chapter, because I enjoy doing that. This is also the last prompt I have on backlog, so new ones are going to come as they're written.

Nine

Clara had known there was little she could do other than live in seclusion via TARDIS when she discovered that she was pregnant. The Doctor had repeated over and over that he was close to sterile thanks to being a Time Lord, and the fact she and Danny had gone without protection on more than one occasion without consequences had made her assume she possibly skewed that way as well. Biology proved them both wrong, however, and before long she was going through nesting rituals as she rearranged her bedroom and waddling around the ship's corridors with a tub of half-melted ice cream in-hand. To make matters worse, Gallifreyan gestation periods were on-average two whole Earth months longer than a human's, meaning she was going insane by the end of the ninth month.

Thankfully though, it only took a couple extra weeks before her water broke, sending both expectant parents into a panic. The TARDIS obligingly put the medical bay directly across the hall and they were met by the holographic interface using the faces of two former companions that actually had been medical doctors. It had been a good thing that the Doctor had recently upgraded the interface, allowing for more interaction between the patient and the ship, because he was sure that if he'd tried to help, Clara would not have let his hand go.

Birth was always a beautiful, awesome, intensely-messy affair, no matter how many times the Doctor had the privilege to witness it. He enjoyed it better though after the clean-up, long past when the screaming ended and pain subsided. It was leagues better this time as he sat on the bed next to Clara holding his son, while she held his daughter while breastfeeding. She'd wanted both babies to have their mother's milk at least once before switching over to the synthetic stuff the TARDIS conjured from who-knows-where, and she was glad that she could do it at all.

"They're so beautiful, Clara," the Doctor said, placing the tip of his pointer finger in their son's hand. "No matter how many times it happens, the first time you meet your child is humbling."

"You know, we still haven't decided on names," she mentioned. "I still want to name one after you and one after me."

"We talked about this—my true name is too dangerous, let alone no longer represents me, and to endow a child with it would be more insult than honor." He saw his son's eyes open, brown and large like his mother's, and his hearts began to crack. "I've gone by many names since abandoning my original one."

"Which one do you go by the most?"

"John Smith, and this little guy doesn't look like a John."

"Well then, what do you suggest, now that you can see them?" she chuckled.

"We can go with another David and Elena," the Doctor suggested. "David John and Elena Clara?"

"No, too obvious," Clara frowned. She carefully moved her daughter so they were chest-to-chest, burping her before bringing her back down level again. The girl yawned and went to sleep, causing the new mother to pass her over and take her son in-arms. "Remember: I do want to partially raise them on Earth, and those names would make Dad more than a little suspicious." She pondered for a moment while her boy suckled hungrily, reminding her about how much some of her students could eat and drink in one go. "James; James and Alison."

"I like those," he agreed. "Where are they from?"

"Dad and Mum's middle names," she explained. "James and Alison Smith."

"James and Alison Oswald," he argued gently. "You're the one with a surname to pass down."

"Fine," Clara grumbled. "James Clark Oswald-Smith and Alison Joan Oswald-Smith—double-barreled, so it's like I tacked my name to the front of theirs on the adoption."

"Our daughter looks just like you, which means that there's no way anyone's going to believe she's adopted," the Doctor said. He held her hand and kissed her forehead, telepathic sparks of adoration flitting between them.

"You can't tell that, not yet anyhow," she laughed. "She looks like a baby… she looks like her brother."

"They look like our children…"

"…like two tiny versions of us."

"That I'll accept," Clara nodded. She fawned over the baby laying along her arm, for he was done eating and instead was reaching up towards her, already investigating his new environment.

Every moment she spent holding one of her children, her chest swelled more and more. She was a mum now, something she hadn't counted on happening once Danny met his untimely end, and it made her want to cry. All her tears were used during labor though, so all she did was smile. Part of her knew that wherever Danny was, whether it was still the Nethersphere or the afterlife or even somewhere else, he'd be happy for her—that's just the kind of guy he was. She had thought about the name Daniel, or even Danielle, once or twice during the pregnancy, but felt deep-down it wouldn't be right. Glancing over at the Doctor, she opened her mouth to say something, but immediately forgot as she saw the look on his face as he stared at their daughter. It was more melancholy than anything else; sad and glad and a whole lot of worry.

"Are you alright?" she wondered. He snapped out of his thoughts, landing back in the medical bay.

"Oh? Yeah, I think so," he replied. Gently, the Doctor placed the sleeping baby in her mother's free arm and gave her another kiss, this time on the lips. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoed. The twins both slept peacefully as their father left the room, staying away for what felt like a long time. Materializing as the gentleman doctor, the TARDIS interface check vitals for all three, declaring that they would be good to wander the rest of the ship after a night's rest. Alison and James were both on the edge of waking when the Doctor walked back into the bay, a very old book sitting open in his hand.

"I know it's in here somewhere," he muttered, flipping through pages. It was leather-bound and cracking, bits of the pages flaking off and floating serenely to the floor.

"What's the matter?" the interface asked. "It better be important if you're risking the sterility of the birthing ward."

"The hybrid," the Doctor replied. The interface grimaced and vanished, allowing the Time Lord to his devices.

"The hybrid…? What about a hybrid?" Clara asked, trying not to panic. "What sort of intergalactic nonsense did you get our children into the moment they were born?!"

"Hold on; I'm checking," he said. A couple more pages and he found the page he required, the ink text supplemented with many more penciled-in notes in the margins, all in High Gallifreyan. He ran his finger over the page as he read, tapping the spot he was looking for. "This is it: the Hybrid Prophecy.

"'One day there shall be a creature, born of two warrior races, one that shall be more powerful than the two parent races combined. It shall stand victorious in the ruins of Gallifrey, destroy the web of time, and destroy millions of hearts to heal its own.' I don't like the sound of this."

"Oh God, Doctor, you're telling me this now?!" Clara snapped. "Our children are not even half a day old and you're telling me that they're going to grow up to destroy your home planet?!" The babies woke up and began to cry, their mother bouncing them in an effort to calm them. The Doctor abandoned the book on the bed to take James, who was nearer to him, and attempted to help calm him down. He held his son against his chest and hummed, pacing around the room worriedly.

"Alright, so that's still the same," he said once the kids were both quiet again. He slowly lowered himself onto the mattress and looked at Clara, his eyes now red-rimmed from welled-up tears. "I'm so sorry, Clara. If I had known…"

"…you would have what?" she hissed quietly. "Changed their DNA in-vitro?"

"I would have engineered them to be fully-human, not a drop of Gallifreyan or Time Lord DNA in their sequences, before implanting them in the womb," he said. He held James close, trembling in worry. There was a sinking feeling in his chest as he rocked him and stared at Alison. "Most scholars believe that the prophesized races are Time Lord and Dalek, but I was there when it was foretold, and it said nothing about who or what. I've been fond of human companions, even went as far as loving them, but I hadn't had children before this with someone who wasn't Gallifrey-born. It never even occurred to me…" He choked on his own words, fear twisting his stomach until he felt sick. "Our children are doomed and it's all my fault."

"No, it's not," Clara said. She reached over and placed her hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "What else does the prophecy say? Does it give us any more hints?"

"No, that's it," he replied. "Humans are an amazing species when it comes to warriors, not because of their ferocity, but because of their compassion. I've seen it, I know it, and I feel it deep down in my hearts." He reached over and placed a hand on Alison's head, wanting to touch both his children at once. "The Gallifreyan part was always a given—what would be ready to take down the Time Lords better than one of their own—but the thought that humans would be the ones to complete the prophecy was never even considered."

"How so?" she asked warily. "Did Gallifrey not know about humans?"

"No, we knew; we simply found humans to be inferior, inefficient, too dull to be master warriors," he admitted. "Even I thought that, up until very recently."

"What… what made you change your mind?"

"…Danny."

Clara grew quiet at that, lifting Alison up and kissing her nose, right by where the Doctor's thumb sat. Part of her felt so guilty for all that had happened—it wasn't fair. "He deserved better."

"He deserved a life and he gave it away without a second thought," he said, remembering what she had told him about the boy who Danny had given the interdimensional hopper. "I should have known then, in the graveyard, but I've been an idiot. The other half was not Dalek or Cyberman or anything else other than Human. I'm almost certain now that James and Alison are the prophesized Hybrid."

"Then we have work to do," she said. "We have to make sure these children grow up to be two of the best individuals the universe has ever had the privilege of meeting. Whatever causes them to fulfill this prophecy, if they do at all, will not be due to vengeance or cruelty. For all you and I know, the 'ruins' are only an old order. Maybe they will help heal what the Time Council hurt."

"I hope so, Clara," the Doctor murmured. "I really, really hope so."