The Doctor considered staying in Victorian London, but he didn't want Paul growing up in a much harsher society towards...well, a child born out of wedlock. The Doctor cringed. He was planning on proposing to Clara after their first night together. Yes, it was fast, but he was confident he wanted nothing more than to marry her. Multiple times the opportunity presented itself, but the Time Lord grew nervous. And, after they found out that she was pregnant, he decided to wait. He didn't want her to feel like he was only doing it out of obligation.
Would marrying Clara have made losing her easier or harder? He brushed the thoughts off and tried to think of where he could go. Then, remembering the last time he was a bit lost and trying to find a safe place, an idea popped into his head.
After flipping a few switches, the Time Lord now found himself on the doorstep of none other than Craig Owens. Exactly one year after he'd last seen him and met little Stormagedon. He grew nervous as he heard footsteps approaching the door. How Craig would react to seeing him again? With a tiny baby of his own in tow as well.
Taking a breath as the door opened, the Doctor saw that Craig wasn't who answered the door. It was Sophie. Sophie, with a young toddler on her hip and a small bump in her belly. Sophie looked confused. She hadn't seen him since he first met Craig before Alphie was even a twinkle in his father's eye.
"Hello, Sophie." Said the Doctor kindly. Not wanting to scare her. She looked him over as he watched the pieces click into place.
"Doctor? What are you doing here?" She looked back into the house to check the clock on the wall. "Craig should be home within the next hour."
She then finally noticed the infant car seat the Doctor was holding in his grasp, to which she could only imagine his arm felt like jelly. She'd done her fair
share of carrying Alfie around in an infant seat like that. She could see that the baby was young. Very young.
"You're more than welcome to sit on the sofa and wait if you'd like," she said kindly.
Sofie didn't know the Doctor very well, but from her last encounter with him, she never expected the next time he'd drop into their lives (if ever), he would be bringing an infant along with him.
"I...I'm sorry to drop in like this. I don't want to be a bother. I can go."
Sophie shook her head. "Oh, of course, it's no bother! In fact, I could use the
company. Even though I've got my little man here, I begin to go a bit barmy at the lack of any adult interaction."
The glowing blond laughed as she guided the Doctor through the house to the sitting room. "Really, it's good to see you. It's been what? A year since you've
been here? Craig said you popped by on an evening when I was out and got to meet little Alfie here."
Craig must have never told her about the unfortunate run-in with the Cybermen.
"Ah, yes. Something like that." He just smiled as he set the infant seat down and sank into the sofa.
"I'm fixing up supper right now. I'd love it if you'd join us!" Sofie shifted Alfie to her other hip as she went about the kitchen. "Trust me, there's plenty. I've learned to make meals in large quantities, so there are leftovers. Spend fewer nights actually cooking."
She set Alphie on the floor, where he immediately crawled into the sitting room, right to the pile
of toys. Alfie turned to the Doctor and started babbling. The Doctor leaned towards the baby, "No, no, no. No more bad scary metal men. Just thought I'd pop by and say hello."
He smiled as Alphie went back to playing, satisfied with the Doctor's answer. The Doctor smiled at the thought that Alfie remembered him. He looked over to Paul, still sleeping peacefully and thought about the day he'd start babbling and communicating to him as well.
Craig was shocked, to say the least, when he got home from work to find the Doctor sitting on his sofa. He was even more shocked to find out that he did not die and apparently became a father instead. It broke his heart, though, to now see the man that he'd come to respect breaking down in front of him as he talked about how Paul's mum died shortly after giving birth. Craig couldn't imagine losing Sofie so suddenly. Craig blurted out that the Doctor and baby Paul could stay as long as needed without thinking.
The Doctor hadn't intended to live with Craig and Sofie, but he also didn't want to be alone. And he certainly didn't want to live in the TARDIS. It was too painful. That's where he and Clara spent most of the 9 months together. '9 months,' he thought sadly. That's how long he had her. Just a measly 9 months. And yet, her absence felt like it tore away at his entire lifetime.
The Doctor considered using the Chameleon arch. Making up some kind of identity and forgetting all the pain over his long sad life. He could implement some memories of Clara to still tell Paul about his mother, but it didn't feel right. He didn't want to forget the pain. Besides, he deserved it for not protecting her.
Also, if he didn't remember being the Doctor, what potential harm would come to Paul? What if he was more Time Lord than he initially thought? What if Paul comes of age and some mortal enemy is trying to find him, and the Doctor is entirely inept and unaware?
Instead, the Doctor chose to remain a Time Lord. Keep all of his memories, the good and the bad. But he also decided to assume a new identity. He still had contacts with UNIT, and without divulging too much information (especially the fact he had a son), he acquired the identity of one "John Smith." UNIT created all his proof of education and such. Even a made-up family and childhood with a tattered photo album to boot. Only Craig and Sophie knew the truth.
Living with Craig and Sophie was bittersweet. It reminded him of his time travelling with Amy and Rory. He imagined how it would have...could have been for them. Living their everyday lives...able to have a proper family. He tried not to think about it too much.
The Doctor secured a job at a hospital as a proper medical doctor. Specifically labour and delivery. He also was able to buy the house next door and moved out of the Owens' home. It was comforting to know that if he needed an extra nappy or formula, he just needed to walk next door. Sophie stayed home with Alfie, and now that baby Emily arrived, she was usually home.
The Doctor felt a bit out of his depth when he finally began his rotation in the maternity ward. He just knew he had to do it, though. The thought of another young mother dying from something that could easily have been prevented lit a fire in him. Even though it was the 21st century and no nursebots would be having unexpected updates, there were still complications that could arise in even the seemingly lowest risk pregnancies.
Being the prude that the Doctor was, he quickly got over his nerves and found he rather enjoyed the work. It was intense, which he liked, but very different from travelling in the TARDIS. Helping women bring new life into the world made his hearts soar and break simultaneously. He just wished he'd been there for Clara when she needed a doctor. Not The Doctor, but a proper medical doctor.
...
After dropping a now 2-year-old Paul off to stay the night with the Owens', "Dr Smith" started his shift.
"Dr Smith, you need to get down to room 303 immediately," said one of the nurses. Her face was pale. The Doctor ran down the corridor and was shocked to see a security guard and police officer standing outside the room. He could also see a young man sitting in a seat with an all too familiar posture. The very same posture he'd taken only two years prior.
His hearts sank. The Doctor knew the man. He'd come to each and every one of his wife's prenatal appointments. Dr Smith slowly entered the room. He was bracing himself for the tragic sight. He had delivered the couple's baby girl the day before, and when the nurse informed him that the mother had been haemorrhaging, he made it clear that they needed to observe her and make sure everything was alright before sending her home.
The Doctor braced himself for what he was to find. What he saw shocked him. Apparently, the baby had been removed, and the medical examiner was already in the room. The nurse on shift was sobbing in the corner, trying to give a statement to the officer while the Doctor's eyes were drawn to blood pooling on the ground. It wasn't from what he'd expected, though. The woman was lying on the hospital floor with blood spilling from both her wrists.
"What...what happened?"
The officer escorted him out of the room and began asking him all sorts of questions about the woman's state of mind or if he noticed anything unusual in her behaviour. The Doctor couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary. Just the usual emotions of having recently delivered a baby. If he remembered correctly, the couple already had a young son.
He knew about depression that could come from all of the hormones and other drastic changes after pregnancy, but he'd never seen it go so south so quickly. The woman had clearly committed suicide less than 24 hours after giving birth.
The Doctor finished giving his statement when he overheard the nurse who'd found the poor woman. She was speaking in hushed sobs to another nurse.
"She...she was rambling about angels and demons. Said that if she didn't release the devil inside her that...that someone was going to take the baby."
The young nurse was clearly distraught. "I called for help as soon as I could, but she grabbed the scalpel so fast and then...and I...I tried to contain the bleeding, but she faded so fast because she'd already lost so much blood during the delivery. They said not to touch her because of the nature of her...her death."
"Postpartum psychosis." Heard the Doctor as a man came up next to him. He'd seen the man before in passing. Dr Patel, he believed. One of the hospital's psychiatrists. The Doctor hadn't been much of a fan of psychiatry. Still, given the sudden tragic end of one of his own patients now, he wished he'd paid more attention to the mental side of things, especially after going through something as life-altering as birthing a child.
"I'm just glad it wasn't the other way around this time," sighed the psychiatrist.
"What do you mean?" questioned the Doctor.
"Well, a lot of times, the woman is at home when the psychosis happens. And often, she's alone with the child. It's a terrible thing to have to inform a new mother, when she finally comes to her senses, that she went and murdered her own child."
The Doctor was horrified. He couldn't even imagine hurting his son, let alone murdering him. Whether in his right mind or not. He felt sick. He'd been so focused on preventing tragic deaths from the physical standpoint of childbirth. How could he have been so ignorant? Seeing the husband of his now-deceased patient pained him. The Doctor now understood how difficult it must have been for Clara's doctor to inform him of her death. He shook off the memory and made his way back to his office.
Over the next few months, the Doctor began to research pregnancy and mental health. In addition, he began to implement more educational resources for young mothers (and fathers) about what to look for so that these tragic deaths wouldn't continue. Over the next few years, the Doctor helped bring hundreds of babies into the world alongside the midwives and other doctors that worked alongside him. And with each year that passed without complication or tragedy, he began to feel the gaping wounds of his hearts slowly begin to heal.