When the Sun Sets ☼ Eleven x Reader

XXI - The Prospect of Fatherhood

A serene silence swirled like a thick fog and rested comfortably around you and Rory after a few moments of stillness. You had settled next to the moses basket, perching on the step next to the still nameless baby and occasionally pulling the blanket away from her face as she gurgled in her sleep. Rory was sat on the other side, his finger nestled comfortably inside the baby's closed fist. His face was settled in a subtle smile, looking down upon the basket with adoring eyes.

'Can you believe I'm going to have one of these in nine months?' He says after a while, his eye contact unwavering.

'Honestly, no. I don't doubt you, though. You're going to be a great dad.'

'You think?'

'Of course I do.'

'I'm not so sure, you know.' His face falls gradually, and his gaze shifts down to a small pebble he's kicking with his foot.

'Why?' you enquire, tilting your head to the side sympathetically. You reach down and pull the pebble away from him, reasoning that it could definitely be radioative and blow the three of you up in an instant. He tried to protest, but given his track record for all things space generated and the stare you gave him, he reluctantly allowed you to place the stone gently next to you on the step.

'Well, it's hard, isn't it? The whole parenting thing.'

'I can't believe you've just said that.' you smirk. 'Of course it's hard, you're literally growing a person.'

'You're not helping, [Y/N].' he replies. 'I just- I just don't want to do it wrong. There's too much at stake.'

'You won't do it wrong.'

'But how do you know that?'

Rory raises his voice slightly as he replies, and the baby stirs quietly in her sleep, cosying herself further into the blankets. You shoot him a pointed 'don't wake her up' sort of look, and his gaze shifts back to his hands that were fumbling with his wedding ring anxiously. You place your hand comfortingly over his, and smile at him as he looks up to meet you.

'Rory, you were born to be a father. Look at you. You literally went into nursing so that you could help people. That's all parenting is, really. Helping someone to grow. And Amy loves you so much, you'll figure this out together.'

'Hmm, she doesn't love me as much as that clone though, does she?' he mumbles quietly.

'My god, will you drop that? You know damn well she does.' you raise your voice slightly, causing the baby to stir again. 'She thought you were dead, Rory. He was the only thing she had left that bore any resemblence to you, her husband, the only man she'd ever loved completely. She's out there right now, pregnant with your child, fighting for a world she knows your children will have to live in. A world you'll have to live in. Never doubt how much she loves you, Rory. Because she loves you more than you'll ever know. She may have a funny way of showing it, but it's unwavering. Just you remember that.'

Rory says nothing, but smiles lightly at the floor. The baby's eyes fluttered open delicately, and you could see the corners of her mouth falling as she threatened to cry.

'Hey, sweetheart. Come here, don't cry.' Rory coos, scooping her up and rocking her gently in his arms. 'There now, is that better?'

You watched him cradle the crying baby. It was strange how being with this child provoked a maternal instinct in you. You'd never really noticed before how much you wanted children. It'd always been a rough subject- and you'd taken the 'if it happens, it happens' approach in the past. If the right person came along, maybe there could be children in your future.

Your mind naturally drifted to the Doctor. Whether it was out of worry, you weren't sure, but that was where you had ended up. The prospect of the Doctor ever having been a father was still something that baffled you- how could a man who acted so much like a child be capable of raising anything mildly mature? But then you remembered how he had acted with the baby when she'd first arrived. The unchanging look of pure affection directed at her small, sleeping face was unlike anything you'd ever seen before.  And what had that nod meant? When he had passed you the baby, it was an intentional move. You had to be the one carrying her at that point- but why?

He'd be a good dad. The sort that'd make you constantly paranoid one of the kids would get seriously hurt while playing with him. He'd take them to planets with no gravitational pull, and someone would end up jumping too high and you'd lose them. Or he'd play that game where you throw the baby above your head and catch them, but he'd almost miss every time. He'd make motherhood stressful, but it'd be worth it, you thought.

'I can't do this.' Rory's voice snapped you back into the room. He was bouncing the baby up and down rhythmically attempting to lull her back to sleep. 'I've even tried doing that thing that Monica does in Friends, you know with the- with the little swoop? Nothing's working.'

'Just be patient. Does she need anything?'

'Nope. I've checked all bases. Nothing's amiss as far as I can see. Here. You take her.'

He passes the baby into your arms as you stand. You estimated she was only a few months old, just big enough to cradle like a newborn. You swayed her gently as you had seen your own mother do a few times with your younger cousins, and shushed quietly. Her eyes began to flutter closed once again, and you laid her down into the moses basket as her wails finally ceased.

'Please tell me you're joking. That was incredible.'

'What? I just moved her gently. You know she's only small, but she'll still feel it if you give her whiplash.'

'Oh come off it.' Rory says, slapping your arm playfully. 'You're a natural. What do I do if my baby starts crying and I can't stop it? Or if they end up hating me because I spend too much time at work? Oh god, [Y/N] what if I put them down, and then I- what if forget they're there and I- and I sit on them?'

'Oh my god. This is a joke, right? Seriously, you've just asked me what you should do if you sit on your baby. Rory, you're overthinking this. Parents have that connection with their own children.'

'Well, that one's not yours. You managed to get her off to sleep pretty quickly.'

'Must just be luck, I guess.' you reply, but something in you made question what he'd just said.

'And we're back! Baby, please. I can't be late bringing her home.'  the Doctor says quickly, bursting through the doors and interrupting your thoughts. Rory rushes over to Amy as she stumbles through the door. You notice the hem on her sleeve is darkened slightly by blood.

The Doctor reaches both arms out to you, and you happily fill them. He plants a firm kiss on the top of your head, and cups both of his hands onto your cheeks as you pull away.

'I need to talk to you. But first I need to take her home. Can you pass me the basket?'

You do so, looking down at the baby one last time as she wriggled peacefully. 'I'll miss her, you know.'

'Don't worry. You'll see her again.'

The Doctor moves swiftly out of the TARDIS once again without explanation, checking his watch and sighing with relief.

You watch the door close behind him, before rushing over and sitting on the floor next to Amy, who was having her arm wrapped in a bandage by her husband.

'How did this happen?'

'It's just a scratch, [Y/N], don't worry. Ah! Rory, careful!' she scolds as he knots the bandage.

'Doesn't seem like it.'

'I'm fine. And so is the baby, as far as we know. The Doctor was very careful. He did all of the scary bits, I sort of just watched.'

'Well that's how it should be.' Rory smiles, kissing her forehead as he mirrored your position perched beside her. 'I'm glad you're okay.'

There was a sound from behind you. Not like anything you'd heard before, but comparable to a swishing noise. There was the strong feeling of a presence behind you, but you didn't dare turn around.

'Miss me?'