The Hybrid - Doctor Who Fanfiction

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"Perhaps, Doctor, it would be best if you stepped away for a moment," Madame Hame suggested over Clara's animalistic sounds, eyeing the paling father-to-be knowingly.

"I'm not leaving her here alone, not like this," he argued, though he was starting to look a little unsure standing at Clara's bedside. "She needs me; even if that means I've got to be target practice."

The Doctor forced a smile to his face as he rubbed at what he knew would turn out to be a developing bruise on his shoulder, a consequence from the blow delivered by the clockwork squirrel he'd just built. A few minutes ago, it seemed like a worthy enough distraction. But now, as he groaned painfully, he was sure the idea to introduce a foreign objects as a distraction for a heavily pregnant woman who also happened to be in labor was almost always a bad idea.

"I'm serious, Doctor." Hame spoke up, returning the Doctor's attention to her solemn expression.

"What? Do you think I'm not?" The Doctor's brows lifted as he stared at the Cat Kind woman. "I love her—"

"Exactly, which is precisely why I suggested taking a break. It's not easy, watching the ones we care for experience this level of discomfort. And, in Clara's case, this is only going to get worse."

Hame's gentle words of caution seemed to be perfectly timed as the two friends both watched Clara's mouth open in silent scream of agony, her entire face twisting as she rode out the contraction. Suddenly furious with the helpless position he currently occupied as an anxious father, the Doctor gripped the railing of the hospital bed so tightly his knuckles went white.

After a moment, Hame continued. "This labor will be difficult to say the very least—the situation is unique. Her body believes that the end of the pregnancy has arrived, but, in fact, the child is not yet ready to be born."

"I'm not going anywhere," the Time Lord repeated, and he seemed to plant his feet further, resolved that his place, no matter how useless and uncomfortable he felt, would always be by Clara's side.

Hame bit back her small smile at his decision to stick it out with his companion. She then turned to busy herself with preparing the equivalent of an epidural before she disappeared into the next room where the rest of her colleagues were preparing the incubator Bill would occupy for the next two months. The Doctor had already carefully inspected and and inquired over the incubator in question, and after being thoroughly reassured by Hame's colleagues and the research he had acquired for his own peace of mind, the Doctor approved the particular model that had been chosen as well as the synthetic fetal fluid that would be used to help further simulate a mother's womb.

The Doctor leaned over Clara's bed as she went in and out of consciousness, taking advantage of the calm before the storm that would be her next contraction. He went in to kiss her temple, which caused her to stir slightly as she drifted off to sleep. His hand came up to rest against her cheek, and the Doctor realized that there, cradled in the palm of his hand, was everything he'd ever found a reason to live for and everything he'd found a reason to die for. His hope, his joy, his anguish, his desire, his despair, his fury. His salvation.

Salvation that didn't even have the power to save herself.

"You're doing so well, my darling girl," he whispered, knowing Clara was too far gone to acknowledge his words at this point, though she did lean into his hand a little more at the sound of his voice.