Hello!

First and foremost, I would just like to thank everyone for their support - this story wouldn't have been possible without it. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story and I hope it has been a pleasant experience.

I hope you will love the epilogue.

Epilogue

Four Years Later

"I was hoping we could go there a bit sooner, actually," Clara Smith said quietly to her husband, snuggling closer to him. "I miss the cottage."

"That makes it the two of us," John Smith replied, kissing her head.

"Keep it down," she scolded him playfully, hitting his arm.

John chuckled, grabbing her hand and placing a gentle kiss. "I was."

Clara rolled over to check up on their son who was sleeping soundly in the spot where she would usually sleep. The poor child had woken up in the middle of the night, face wet with tears as he had suffered a nightmare. She carefully ran a hand through the boy's curly hair before returning to her husband's embrace.

"Let me guess, it was either a human stuck inside a machine or a shape-shifting monster that was chasing him."

Clara kissed his neck. "Human stuck inside a machine," she confirmed. "Missy needs to tone down her stories."

The Doctor kissed her. "You would think she would have made it child-friendly."

His wife beamed. "At least there's a silver lining – I'm cuddling you, aren't I?"

John grinned before his hand disappeared under the covers. Clara giggled when she felt him running his hand down her thigh.

"Down, boy," she giggled, intertwining their fingers.

"You started it," he replied, leaning in to kiss her once more.

Clara moaned when he began trailing kisses down her neck. "John, not now," she protested weakly, playing with the curls at the back of his head. She knew her husband was just teasing her but she herself couldn't help it.

Their moment didn't last long when their son began groaning at the commotion. John immediately pulled away when their child immediately sat up.

"Good morning, darling," Clara greeted, rolling over.

The young boy rubbed his eyes and stared at his parents for a second before he said, "Good morning, mama, papa."

"Your mother told me you had a nightmare, last night," John said.

"I did, papa," the boy groaned before he lied back down again, hugging his mother.

Clara and her husband exchanged looks. "Malcolm, would it help improve your mood if we told you we're going to see your grandad today?" John suggested.

Young Malcolm shot eyes open. "Grandad, today?" he asked excitedly, eyes shining brightly.

While he had inherited most of his looks from his father, from the curly hair to the lanky build, Malcolm Smith had his mother's eyes.

"Yes," Clara confirmed, kissing her son's head. "I'm sure your grandad misses you as much as you miss him."

The three-year-old wriggled out of his mother's embrace and climbed out of bed, full of energy. "Let's go, let's go!" he demanded happily.

John and Clara chuckled at their son's antics. "First thing's first, a bath," Malcolm's mother explained before she freed herself from her husband's embrace. "And the same goes for you, Dr Smith."

Malcolm ran out of the room, wanting to get it done quickly so he could see his grandfather sooner.

"Can't I stay in bed a bit longer, Mrs Smith?" John asked playfully after his wife gave him a peck on the lips.

Clara giggled. "Not unless you want to continue where we left off, later tonight, Dr Smith."

John smirked before he threw away the covers and planted his feet on the ground. "Blackmailing your husband should be considered a crime."

"Mama, mama!" Malcolm yelled from the bathroom. "Hurry!"

"Oh please, John, you're obviously enjoying it," Clara replied, winking.

Truth to be told, he was enjoying their banter, despite constantly insisting that he wasn't one for banter.

John's lips formed a grin. Almost four years of marriage and they were still behaving as if they fell in love for the first time. Sure, they have had their fair share of arguments throughout the years, but what marriage doesn't? At the end of the day, their love for each other is far too much for them to stay mad at each other for long.

It became a sort of routine. Ever since Malcolm was born, the family would visit Dave on a regular basis. It was certainly difficult at first for John as his schedule as a physician was unreliable so when the university where he taught part-time at, offered him a permanent position, he immediately took the offer. The wages were a lot more stable and it meant he didn't have to work on Saturdays and Sundays, meaning he could spend quality time with his family.

"How much longer, Papa?" Malcolm asked, snapping John out of his thoughts. The boy was all smiles as he looked out the window of the carriage taking in the view of the busy streets of London.

John chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. His son had been asking him the same question for the third time now. "Soon, Malcolm – if we've past Coal Hill Bakery, then we should arrive in twenty minutes," he explained before taking his hat off and placing it on his son's head. It sank down to his nose.

"Papa!"

Clara stared silently at the two boys, feeling her heart soar with pride and love. She could still remember the day she married John and the day she gave birth to Malcolm. It was surreal to think she finally got her happy ending in the end.

John caught her staring at them both, causing him to grab her hand and kiss it. "Thinking about something, Mrs Smith?"

She beamed. "Just thinking about how much I love the both of you."

"The feeling is mutual, isn't that right, Malcolm?"

Malcolm pulled the hat up and grinned boyishly. "Yes!"

The carriage came to a halt and a moment later, they heard the gates being opened.

"We're here!" the three-year-old exclaimed, taking off the hat and handing it back to his father. He stuck his head out the window.

"Grandad!" he yelled when he saw Dave standing outside on the porch.

"Malcolm, be careful," Mr Rentford said gently as he parked the carriage.

"Grandad, grandad!"

Dave set his walking stick aside and opened up his arms as his grandson ran up to him.

"Hello, my boy!" the old man greeted with a raspy voice lifting him up. "Are you really Malcolm – my goodness – look at you, you've grown!"

Clara smiled at the scene in front of her before her husband helped her out of the carriage.

The boy giggled. "It is me, grandad!"

Dave set his grandson down when his arms began to feel weak. "Alright, I tell you what, why don't you go inside and eat some snacks first – Aunty Donna and Uncle Shawn aren't here today since they're on their honeymoon, but I asked Mr Thomas to make you your favourite biscuits – eat first and then we can play hide a seek, yes?"

Malcolm nodded before he ran inside, in search of Mr Thomas and his favourite chocolate chip cookies.

"Hello, father," Clara greeted happily, kissing his cheek. John trailed behind her with their suitcases.

"Clara, darling, so good to see you," Dave said with a warm smile before glanced at John. "How are you, John?" he asked kindly.

Four years ago, when he was informed that Clara wouldn't be marrying John Foreman, he was disappointed. He continued to give John Smith the cold shoulder, that was until he realised just how much they love each other. It took him a while to see it but he was glad he did. The ice around his heart finally melted away when Malcolm was born. It made Dave realise that he was wrong all along.

John gave him a smile. "Good, thank you,"

Dave grabbed his walking stick and all three stepped inside.

"How have you been, father – are you still having chest pains?" Clara asked.

"Ah, you know how it is with me but it's manageable – it's not as bad as it used to be, so I suppose the medication is working."

At that moment, Malcolm ran down the hallway. "Hide and seek, grandad!" he said, tugging the old man's shirt.

Dave laughed. "Alright, alright, let's go to the garden."

John and Clara, on the other hand, retreated to their bedroom.

"I still think he hates me," John commented, setting the suitcase in the corner.

Clara rolled her eyes. Her husband was still convinced that his father-in-law still despises him after all these years. "Nonsense, you daft man – that's just the way my father is."

He pursed his lips and his wife wrapped her arms around him. "If he didn't like you," she continued. "He wouldn't have acknowledged you."

He arched a brow. "Are you sure – it still feels, well, awkward."

She shook her head and kissed him. "You're always awkward, daft man but you're my daft man."

He smiled at her. "What did I ever do to deserve you, Clara Oswald?"

"You came to this very house four years ago and listened to my woes instead of brushing it off," she murmured. Her eyes then lit up. "Oh, that reminds me."

Clara broke free from her husband's embrace and searched for something in the suitcase.

"I received a letter from John Foreman yesterday – he's invited us to his wedding."

The Doctor took off his coat and hanged it on the coat hanger. "Oh, is that so – he's finally found someone – when is the wedding?"

"In four month's time," Clara said, reading the letter again. "He says he met Oswin a year ago when he was travelling in Switzerland."

"Good for him, then," her husband mumbled, lying on the bed, remembering how he had let Clara go and told her to marry Foreman.

"You're not still jealous, are you," she teased.

"How can I be when you're the mother of my child?"

As if on cue, they heard Malcolm screeching in the garden.

John and Clara shared a smile.

Malcolm ran behind a bush and hid there as his grandfather counted down.

"Three… two… one!" Dave exclaimed opening his eyes. "Hmm, Malcolm, where are you?"

He knew exactly where the boy was, as his tiny shoes were exposed, but Dave played along, standing in front of his hiding spot and looking around.

"Where could that little boy be?" he said to himself, scratching his head. He then turned around and carried Malcolm out of the bush. "There he is!"

The three-year-old screeched at being discovered and lifted up into the air.

Eventually, after two hours of playtime, Malcolm fell asleep behind the sofa while playing hide and seek indoors. His father had to carry all the way upstairs to his bedroom, not that he minded. John always loved it when the boy wrapped his tiny arms around his neck and rested his head on his shoulder as if everything in the world would be alright.

Dave had retreated to his study and sat down in the leather chair in front of the fireplace. Playtime had exhausted him too, but it was worth it. At times like this, Dave would ponder.

He stared down at the drawing his grandson made. It was a picture of him, his parents and of course, Dave. He smiled.

Clara is happily married, John is treating her well and he couldn't have asked for a better grandson. Yes, everything is brilliant. He finally got his wish of his daughter being happy and taken care of. Granted, it didn't turn out how he planned, but Dave would consider it a happy ending, nonetheless.

His eyes became heavy and his breathing short. He looked down at the drawing with watery eyes one last time and smiled before he let out his final breath and closed his eyes, hand losing grip of the piece of paper, but it remained where it was, on his chest, close to his heart.

The End