AU: Clara is Rose and TenToo’s kid.
They’d only just met, and he was already invited back to her flat. Clara, she’d said. Eighteen, she’d said. Just graduated, she’d said. You look familiar, she’d said. We should have tea, she’d said.
"So," the Doctor drawled on, a slight smile on his lips, "you said your name was …Clara?"
The brunette grinned and stretched out her hand for him to shake. “Clara Tyler.”
There was a pause of silence before the Doctor opened his mouth again. “Tyler, you said?” His voice was soft, almost scared.
"Clara Tyler," confirmed the girl. Her eyes twinkled with every word. "I know who you are," Clara stated. "The Doctor. My parents told me stories about you."
His mouth was agape, and suddenly, the Doctor’s entire body shook. He glanced awkwardly around the room, grasping onto his chair tightly. “Those are your parents?” he asked quietly, nodding to a photo, a fancy silver frame making the ordinary photo quite interesting.
The Doctor didn’t have to look twice. Although the photo was small, and far away from him, he knew exactly who was in it.
"Your mum’s Rose Tyler, isn’t she?"
Not missing a beat, Clara nodded. She bit her lip as she tried to fight back a grin. After all, this was the man she’d only dreamed of meeting her whole life.
"And your father?"
This was it, the moment of truth. The Doctor would know in that moment if a life with Rose Tyler would have been possible for him, in the past.
"He took her last name," the Doctor murmured, snorting a bit.
Clara squinted at him slightly. “What was that?”
"Nothing," he responded. Suddenly, neither of them knew what to say.
"So, Clara. Any chance I could, er, meet your parents?"
She glanced down at the floor a bit sheepishly.
"What?" inquired the Doctor. "What is it?"
"I’ve already contacted them," she replied. "They told me to get them immediately if we ever met," Clara added earnestly. The Doctor grinned at that statement.
"Well, I will happily oblige."
"They told me stories!" Clara suddenly blurted.
The Doctor raised his hardly-there eyebrows. “Stories?” he asked, smirking.
Suddenly, everything spilled out. “Yeah, stories. They said you saved the universe all the time, and you can regenerate and that Dad is a human version of you, but that can’t be true, can it? I mean, my dad’s nothing special. I mean, he’s my dad, and he’s great and stuff, but he, he can’t be you, can he?” Out of breath from rambling, Clara breathed in deeply.
"They told you bedtime stories about me?” the Doctor continued incredulously, ignoring everything the girl had said.
"Isn’t that what I s—"
A sudden mixture of alarm and excitement lit the young girl’s eyes. She hurried down the hallway, leaving the Doctor sitting there. “Stay,” she stage-whispered, before continuing her journey to the door.
"Is he," her voice faded, and the Doctor assumed she was whispering.
Clara, however, was not afraid to speak. “Yeah, yeah, he’s down the hall.”
The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. It’d been over eighteen years since Rose’d last seen him, hundreds for himself. The reunion he’d like would not be accounted for.
As Rose’s shoes clacked against the smooth wood, the Doctor waited.