Work Text:
The pram flew over the ridgeline, almost dragging the Doctor with it. He lay gasping on the brink, hands outstretched, clutching rapid air, the gust still urging him to soar, the infant secure under his coat, warm against his jumper and his pounding hearts. He drew his knees up and his hands back, sitting up, trying to turn against the wind, which grabbed his fair hair and stung his eyes. He handed the baby to parka'd strangers who restored her to the hysterical mother and drew the Doctor to safety, as he thought, wildly, oh, to fly, oh, to fly!