The Doctor woke next to the familiar form of his tiny companion. The very same companion that fell into his life and changed his world. Yes, his companion could be a bit bossy, but he loved the little dictator. He brushed his son's hair out of his face that fell over his brow in a curl. The little boy began to open his eyes.
"Good morning." Said the Doctor softly. It was Saturday, so there was no rush to be anywhere as the Doctor's shift at the hospital wasn't until the evening. The Doctor and Paul's usual Friday night ritual was that the little ginger was allowed to sleep in his father's bed. Yet, after the explosive episode in the McDonald's car park the night before, the Doctor didn't think Paul was keen on being near the man he now claimed to "hate."
"Did you forget last night was Friday?" Asked Paul with a yawn, sleep still in his blue eyes.
"No, I just thought that you didn't want… didn't want me." Said the Doctor honestly.
The little boy teared up. "I'm sorry, daddy." He cried. The Doctor immediately brought Paul into his chest and kissed his fluffy hair repeatedly.
"It's okay. It's okay." He continued, telling his son the truth.
"I should be apologising to you, really. You're 6 year's old. You're supposed to have tantrums every now and then. Not daddy. I'm sorry I yelled at you and…hit you." The Doctor pinched his eyes shut in shame at the memory. Paul calmed.
"It's okay, daddy." He said, trying to reassure his father.
"No, it's not okay. I shouldn't have done that. Paul, look at me." He took his sons face into his hands. "I was wrong. I'm sorry."
Paul gave a small smile as he hugged his father.
"I love you." Paul's voice was muffled into the Doctor's chest. "I love you, daddy. I don't hate you."
"I know. I love you too, Paul. So much."
Paul abruptly sat up.
"Can we have waffles?" He asked with a grin. As if the meal would heal all the wounds inflicted the night before. The Doctor just laughed.
"Of course," replied the Doctor. "Although, we'll have to make a trip to the shop to pick up some supplies. I'm afraid we've run out of maple syrup."
Paul had already jumped off the bed and began to look for his shoes.
"Come on, daddy! I'm hungry!"
The Doctor ran his hand through his hair. Both he and Paul were still in the clothes they'd worn the day before, so it wasn't necessary to change. However, he did make Paul brush his teeth as he brushed his own before heading out to the shop.
They were now wandering the aisles of the grocer's. The Doctor figured he may as well pick up the rest of the items on his list while they were there. He'd have to be quick about it, though, because Paul had been adamant about how he was 'starving'. The Doctor looked over his list while he heard Paul talking and laughing with someone behind him. He turned to see Paul grinning ear to ear, hugging Miss Oswald. Of course, this would happen before he'd have the chance to talk to Paul to not say anything about her being his "mum."
Clara waved and walked over to the Doctor with Paul.
"Hello, Dr Smith. Paul was just telling me about how he was going to have some yummy waffles this morning." She ruffled Paul's hair. The Doctor could see his son beaming at the affection.
"Ah, yes! His favourite. I even bought a waffle maker, but he prefers the ones that come premade in a box." He laughed. "Loves his processed food." He added, smiling at his son.
"Can't say I don't blame him. Especially now. Been craving mostly processed foods lately." Clara placed a hand on her belly that made him nearly pass out. She was pregnant. The hauntingly familiar face even made the same motion exactly how Clara…his Clara had done when she'd first found out she was pregnant. Only this time, the baby wasn't Paul, and the baby wasn't his. He quickly plastered on a smile.
"Oh! Well, congratulations! I'm actually an obstetrician. Have been for a few years now." The Doctor hadn't meant anything by divulging his day (sometimes night) job.
"Are you offering to deliver my baby? I actually haven't even set up an exam yet. Need to find a good doctor." She said nonchalantly.
"Oh! Um no. I'm not…not offering to uh…." Gesturing awkwardly, the Doctor could feel his face turn an embarrassing shade of red. "Not…not that I wouldn't. I mean, I would. But only if you wanted me to, of course."
The Doctor briefly wondered if the universe was giving him a second chance to help Clara successfully deliver a baby. He'd just hoped his involvement in bringing another life into the world with Clara would have been…well, a bit more enjoyable and less…work-related.
"Okay!" Replied Clara, but before she could finish her thought, they both turned to Paul, who gasped a sob.
"Hey, hey, there. What's wrong? Paul?" The Doctor knelt to the boy's level.
"She… she's replacing me!" cried Paul.
'Oh, dear. This is not going to go well.' Thought the Doctor.
Clara interpreted Paul's outburst as a simple fear that he would have another teacher leave to have a baby. She knelt beside the Doctor, now at eye level with Paul.
"No, Paul. I'm not replacing you! How could I ever replace you? And the baby is due over the summer holiday anyway. So I'll be with you through the rest of the school year."
Paul calmed a bit.
'Okay, so maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as I thought it would be,' thought the Doctor.
"Will you come home with daddy and me and be my mummy again?"
'Oh god,' now thought the embarrassed Time Lord as he pinched his eyes shut and winced.
Clara couldn't help her face of confusion. "Wha…what do you mean?"
'Think of something clever. Think of a way out. Maybe if I grab him and run, this won't go anymore pear-shaped.' The Doctor's mind raced, trying to think of a way to explain his way out of this. But, before he could do any damage control, Paul spoke again.
"I know you don't love daddy, but he still loves you, and I love you, and I want you to come home." He sobbed as he went in for a hug that nearly knocked her over.
Clara hugged the sobbing boy back as she looked at the Doctor with her eyes wide. He was already standing straight and rubbing his hand over his face hoping that it would wipe the red blush that he was pretty sure was now a permanent part of his complexion. Clara stood up, still holding Paul in her arms as he cried. She was making a face at the Doctor that he knew meant. "You. Explain. Now."
He nervously ran his hand through his hair. How could he explain without upsetting her and without upsetting Paul? The Doctor gently took Paul from Clara's arms. When the boy finally calmed down, the Doctor set him in the trolley.
"Paul, could you give me a moment with Miss Clara? I need to er, talk to her privately."
Paul wiped his face and nodded. The Doctor turned towards Clara. He made sure he was just far away enough so the boy couldn't hear yet close enough for safety.
He was about to speak when Clara spoke first.
"What the hell is going on? Wha…you…you love...?"
"Clara, it's a simple misunderstanding. Well, you resemble his mum, and he's a bit confused. He's only seen pictures of her, and well…he thinks you're her. Last night, he'd only told me that he thought his teacher was his mummy. I'm so sorry. I…I had no idea."
"Oh…okay. River, right?"
"What?" questioned the Doctor.
"You're wife. River. You're saying I look a bit like River?"
"Oh. Right. Um yes…a bit."
Clara was processing the information. "Does he not know what his mother's name was?"
'Damn,' thought the Doctor. This could go well or…really, really bad.
"He…he knows her name. It's…he thinks you've forgotten who you really are so…well, the name…it didn't really make a difference."
He was desperately hoping his horrible explanation/lie would suffice.
"Oh. Okay. What should we do? I…I don't think it's right for him to go on believing a lie. I know he's confused, but…what should we do?"
"Umm, well…"
"Daddy!" The Doctor turned. "I'm huuuuuuuuungry."
Both Clara and the Doctor chuckled, breaking the tension.
"Okay, we'll leave very soon. Just give me another minute."
The boy let out an obnoxiously over-exaggerated sigh. It was as if he didn't have sustenance in the next two seconds the poor boy would shrivel up into nothing.
"Maybe…maybe we could have him look at River's picture next to me so he could see the differences? Seeing the truth might make it a little easier to come to terms with it."
'Not good,' he thought. Was there any parent handbook that dealt with this?
"Right…that…that is a good idea." The Doctor was trying to think of a way to get out of this horrible idea. In fact, it was the most horribly horrible horrid idea in all of time and space. But, before he could come up with something clever, Clara spoke again, taking charge of the situation. 'Always the boss,' he thought.
"It's settled then. I'll come over for supper sometime like I said I would, and we can sit Paul down and talk to him. Oh! I could even bring a few pictures of myself at the same age River was when she had him. How…how old was she, if you don't mind me asking?"
Everything Clara was saying and suggesting made perfect sense had River actually been Paul's mum but, oh God, how was he going to work his way through this? The Doctor froze.
"I'm sorry." She said, thinking she might have offended him. Again.
"No, no! It's okay. She…she was umm 25…yes, 25 at the time." He said as he cleared his throat.
"Okay, well, I can bring some of my own photos from a few years ago when I was 25." Clara's mobile began to ring. "So sorry", she said, "it's Danny." She stepped to the side to take the call.
How the hell could he dig himself out of this mess? He looked back to Paul, reading the back of his favourite sugary cereal box. The Doctor then looked to Clara, laughing as she chatted with this Danny bloke. Finally, she hung up and came back over to the Doctor.
"Sorry, I really should go. Let's set up a time to get together and sort this out." Clara gave the Doctor an affirming grip on his arm. She wanted to say goodbye to Paul but feared it might upset him more. "Just tell him I said goodbye, will you?"
Her phrasing was like a sucker punch to the gut as the Doctor stared into Clara's eyes while she spoke. It was as if Paul's mum was desperately trying to communicate through the woman who stood in front of him now.
His Clara never had the chance to say goodbye to her son. And why was this Clara looking at him so funny? She stepped closer and began to rub his arm. Like she was comforting him.
"Clara?" He questioned softly. Could she sense him? Did this Clara know somewhere deep down in her subconscious about another life she'd lived?
She tilted her head just a bit, then gave a warm smile.
"It's really going to be okay, Dr Smith."
And just like that, the illusion was shattered. Clara had been looking at him funny because he had now realised he'd been crying. Right in the middle of the grocers.
"Sorry." He said as he wiped his tears. "Bit of a mess."
He tried to brush it off, but the more he tried, the more the tears came. And now Clara was hugging him, overwhelmed by the sadness of the strange man she barely knew.
Clara knew how hard it was for her and her father when her own mother died. She also knew how much a simple hug and knowing you're not alone in the world could help. But the longer she hugged him, the more he seemed to crumble with the weight of the years of carrying the grief he never actually grieved.
But he wasn't breaking down because he hadn't appropriately grieved. The Doctor had grieved. Yes, he tried to put it off much longer than he should have, but Clara had been gone nearly seven years now. He had made his peace with everything.
But now, here Clara was. Back in his life. Tearing open every wound that he so desperately worked on healing. Every memory flooded back as he held her in his embrace as if she'd gone to hell and back just to find him again. The world seemed to fade away around him, and all he could feel was Clara. His Clara. Back in his arms.
The Doctor couldn't hear the woman he was embracing trying to calm him down as he clung to her, not allowing her to pull away. He couldn't hear the concerned voice of his son watching his father sobbing. Calling out, asking if mummy finally remembers. Interpreting their embrace as a reunion of sorts.
The Doctor pulled back slightly and then moved forward again as he crushed his lips onto Clara's without thinking. As if he could will his Clara's essence back into this woman's body through some sort of fairytale make-believe. As if all it would take was a simple kiss for his sleeping beauty to return to him.
But alas, this was not a fairytale. The Doctor felt like he had been shocked awake when he heard the harsh words that were clearly directed towards him.
"What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend!"
The Doctor jumped back to see Clara's face. A face now drained of all colour. Then he looked over to the man who moved his way next to her and brought the frightened woman into his arms.
"What is wrong with you?" yelled the man.
The world around the Doctor finally snapped back into place. Once again, he could see and hear everything going on around him. The people staring. Paul's sobs coming from behind. He could also see a policeman making his way over.
Clara noticed the officer and stood slightly between him and the Doctor as she spoke.
"It's fine. It was just a misunderstanding. The man…he lost his wife…she died…she died in childbirth and I…I resemble her, and he's just distraught."
The Doctor picked up Paul, who was now thrashing in his grip as the policeman stopped his progress and continued to observe the scene, ready to intervene if needed.
Danny started to speak, but Clara stopped him.
"Danny, please. He… he's grieving, and he's distraught. Please, Danny. Don't."
"But!" he exclaimed.
The Doctor tried to calm Paul down as he planned to abandon the nearly full trolley to take him home.
"Why is she saying that? She said mummy died! She… she's not dead. She's right there!" Paul was thrashing about so much that he managed to escape the Doctor's grasp as he ran up to Clara and grabbed onto her legs. He was refusing to let go.
"Please, mummy, please remember me. I know you don't love daddy anymore, and now you're having a new baby, but please remember me! Please!"
Clara was in tears. Speechless. How could she break the little boy's heart?
Even Danny had tears in his eyes as he watched the boy begging. In fact, everyone in the store was tearing up now. No longer seeing some deranged man forcing himself onto an innocent woman but a man who'd lost everything and was grieving and confused, much like his young son.
It was heartbreaking to watch as the Doctor had to pry Paul's tiny and surprisingly strong body away from Clara. She didn't know what to do, so she just started talking. Clara managed to get onto the boy's level once again and looked him in the eyes.
The Doctor backed away, unsure of what was about to be said. Finally, he gave up trying to control the situation. He hung his head as he heard Clara speak through tears.
"I'm so so sorry about your mummy, Paul. My mum died when I was young, and it was the worst day of my life." Paul was softly crying as he seemed to finally accept the truth.
"I know it's hard, not having her around but, you've still got your daddy. And he loves you so much. He's got so much love for you that he's got two hearts." She said it, not really knowing why, as the boy smiled timidly.
"Now, I know it's been very confusing for you…for all of us, but I promise you, it's going to be okay." She brought him in for a hug. "You're such a good boy, Paul. So kind and clever." He giggled as she tickled his side.
Hearing the little boy giggle felt like Clara had finally cut the proper wire to diffuse a bomb that had been ticking away. Threatening to destroy everything around them.
"Now, your daddy needs his brave little helper. Can you do that, Paul? Can you be his brave little helper?"
"No." said the boy. He then smiled. "Because I'm NOT little, I'm BIG. I'll be his brave BIG helper!" Paul said proudly.
Clara smiled. "Good," she said as she stood up with a grin. The Doctor came over and put his hands on Paul's shoulders.
All he could do was mouth "Thank you." As he began to guide Paul out of the shop. But not before snagging a bottle of maple syrup to go with the waffles that sat back at home in the icebox. They made their way to the clerk who just waved them out of the building, not requiring them to pay.
The Doctor buckled his son into the seat of the borrowed car and then took a deep breath as he started the engine. He looked back to see Paul's face. So serene. He then heard him say softly. "She's going to remember, daddy. I just know it. Mum. She's in there."
The Doctor should have reminded his son of the reality. He should have not allowed the little boy's delusion to continue only to have another horrible scene of heartbreak even worse than before. He should have said something. But he didn't. Because the truth was that the Doctor now believed it firmly too. Clara would remember. Paul's mum was in there somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind.
He didn't know the turning point when he went from a feeling of fleeting hope to absolute certainty that Clara would come back to him. Even though the delusion that a kiss would bring her back, like a fairytale, had been shattered. After the unprompted kiss, he thought Clara was more like a ghost. The ghost of the woman he loved come back to haunt him in the cruellest of ways.
But as he watched Clara talk to Paul and reassure him that everything would be okay, he knew. He'd seen it flicker across her face. So quickly that even Clara herself didn't seem to notice. But he saw it. She was in there. Because this isn't a fairytale, and it isn't a ghost story. It's a love story. A mother's love. Crossing time and space through even death itself to be with her precious baby boy that she'd never got to properly love in the way she always wanted.