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He wondered the halls and pushed open a door. He looked at the inside, a little crib and a plush cat with two hearts stitched on its chest, a scene playing out in front of him as he saw the portrait of him and Clara and a tiny sliver haired baby with Clara’s nose who was held in his arms. The Doctor looked back and saw a scene unfold in the nursery, Clara holding a child in her arms, feeding them, she seems content and he finds himself walking forward to take the child once she’s finished feeding them and to press a quick kiss to Clara’s head, but he can’t take the baby and he sinks through Clara’s head. He backs away quickly, his eyes widening, it’s not real and he knows but Clara gets up, almost offended. “You can’t just walk away from your baby, you were going to take her, so do it.” Clara holds her arms out, still glaring at him. “In fact, I think this one wants love too.” She gestures to her normally flat stomach and he notices a round bump.
He tried to convince himself it’s not real, but he can’t stop himself from apologising and then kneels down to apologise to the baby she’s carrying that he knows never existed. Clara smiles as he apologises and then asks him to tell her about it, to tell her about the hybrid and at that he backs away again, she is a trap and he looks over her, she looks the same way she did when she died but she didn’t a minute ago, she was in the outfit she was wearing when his eleventh form regenerated, and then he looks to the child and instead of what he saw earlier now he saw a baby he’d seen someone holding during the Time war, he didn’t know what became of them but he could guess. Clara had smoke flowing from her mouth when she exhaled. “Tell me!” It was such an angry tone that didn’t belong to that beautiful face. Now she had tears in her eyes and the baby was Susan after she’d been born. Whoever had him here could tell what affected him, then the faces blurred and it was a baby that looked like Clara, and Clara herself look like the Victorian version of her, another one he couldn’t save.
He couldn’t help himself from trying to cradle her face the way she cradled his late at night and again he couldn’t and she walked away. “Doctor tell me about the hybrid.” He cries and he wishes he could tell her and be happy and hold the miniature Clara that Clara is cradling so gently despite how angry she was, then she places the baby down in the crib and attempts to shove him, it only hurts mentally but he hates it, hates seeing Clara’s face twist in anger. “Please, please you know I can’t tell.” Clara seems angrier and colder. “Why not, you know I won’t tell, I already know you want to see me happy.” He takes in a shaky breath and backs toward the door, Clara gasps. “You wouldn’t leave me and your children, would you?” He turns to face her. “You aren’t real, and even if you were I’ve done a lot worse than leaving a child and its mother alone.”
He leaves and sobs as soon as he’s out, those first few minutes of Clara feeding the baby, oh how he wished that could be how their story ended, the two of them with their own children and a happy life, but it wouldn’t end that way, Clara and any children they had would die before he would and he’d be left alone like he always was in the end. He slammed his fist into the wall angrily, he wanted to go back, apologise and tell her whatever he wanted so he could stay with the baby and a pregnant Clara, but once whoever wanted this information got it they’d probably kill him, and a few minutes wasn’t worth that, he cried and punched and kicked and screamed, a glimpse into something that never could be.