There was a package gripped tightly in her left hand and a slightly worried look on Clara's face when the Doctor arrived at her doorstep. For a moment he considered everything that had happened on their last trip, every word they'd exchanged, every event that had occurred, every everything he could think to think that might have something to do with the way she was chewing her lip and holding onto the doorknob simply staring up at him as though she might be sick.

"Have I upset you?" he began. "Am I early? Had we rescheduled," he continued, "I can come back, or go back, or had I gone back?" The Doctor gestured to the hall space behind him and Clara turned without a word, moving back through the narrow hallway and into the living room, both hands now circling the item she held. "Clara?"

He watched her nod to the room and take a long breath before turning and asking, "Would you come with me someplace different today, Doctor?" She tilted her head, "I have an appointment, had it for the weekend, but it got moved up and I thought to call you, have you come by another day, but then I thought it was maybe time I told you."

They walked in silence towards the small park around the corner and she continually glanced up at him, trying to gauge his reaction; trying to find his judgment, but he simply thought about how he hadn't known. All that time looking into her past and he'd drifted over so many years, consumed with the confusion of how she could possible exist that he'd missed the existence of another precious life.

"His name is Ben. He's just over five now."

She'd made the arrangements while she'd been pregnant. Went with her father and ignored him when the man tried to convince her to keep the child. Because Clara wanted her baby to have the best chance at life and she knew, at that time, it wasn't with her, not by herself, not that young, not with a selfish father who'd disappeared the moment he'd been told.

"I meet him twice a month for now. As he gets older, he'll decide with his parents whether he wants to continue to know me – those were the guidelines I agreed to."

Clara didn't need to point him out. With his thick mop of dark hair and his large brown eyes nestled within a perfectly round little face, tinted olive and bearing the same tight lipped grin just underneath his button of a nose, Ben was the spitting image of his mother and as the boy ascended to the top of the monkey bars, his adoptive parents clapped anxiously.

They were an odd couple, the Doctor observed: both tall and slender, spectacled, older – and reminded him of a pair of scientists observing a strange species for the first time… as though transfixed by the boy seated atop the bars, eyes turned to the sky, lips spread in an awkward little crooked grin. He didn't blame them; he felt the same way, watching Ben as he sighed and examined the clouds. His adoptive parents conversed quietly between each other before finding Clara approaching and giving the Doctor a small nod of acknowledgement.

The boy atop the bar swung his head around keenly and his lips parted in a wide smile as he shouted, "Clara!" and quickly descended as the Doctor turned to look at the petite woman at his side. He imagined he'd seen her elated before, but he'd never seen her glow. She moved ahead of the Doctor, walking quickly towards the boy staggering towards her, his arms flailing about in a dark blue coat that seemed oversized for his small frame and when they collided, the Doctor could feel his two hearts break hearing the sound Clara released.

The boy, and anyone else listening, would have heard the exasperated sigh of a woman who'd just had the wind knocked out of her by the sheer force of a child, but the Doctor knew – she'd had the wind knocked out of her by her love for that child and the knowledge that one day he could choose never to see her again and she would have to bow her head and walk away. Because those were the guidelines she agreed to.

Clara knelt slowly and she handed him the package as the couple approached, both eagerly watching the boy who stared down at the wrapping. "Go on," Clara told him timidly.

He asked quietly, shyly, "For me?"

"Of course for you," Clara laughed before glancing up at his parents, who were now staring at the Doctor with, the Doctor understood, wariness. "This is the Doctor," Clara explained, "My friend I told you about."

"Hello," Ben called brightly, interrupting any proper introductions, head leaning back as he hugged the package to his chest, as though the mere idea of a present from his birth mother were enough. He laughed and pointed, "What's on your neck?"

The mother in front of the Doctor laughed nervously and called, "Benji!" but the Doctor merely held out a hand, nodding slowly, and he bent in front of the boy to gesture.

"This is my bow tie," he allowed, "And only the coolest of boys get to wear them."

Ben looked to Clara, watching her smile and nod, and then he looked back to the Doctor, "How does one get to be the coolest of boys?"

The Doctor smiled and poked lightly at his stomach before whispering, "Do you listen to your mum and dad?" He waited for the nod, "Pay attention in school?" Ben's small head bounced, "Eat all of your vegetables?" The boy grimaced and the Doctor sighed, "Suppose that rule's rubbish anyways."

With a light giggle that made him smile, Ben offered, "Would you like to climb? I think the coolest boys maybe make it to the top the fastest."

"That they do," the Doctor agreed, "Carefully and quickly," he added before rushing towards the monkey bars, chased by the screaming child.

He moved clumsily and watched Ben's tongue tuck itself at the corner of his lips as he moved deftly over the metal bars, package still held tightly underneath his arm, until he sat again at the top and locked his legs around two bars to declare, "I win!"

Shifting to bring himself up, the Doctor sighed and nodded before looking up at the sky and asking, "What's up there, Benjamin?"

The boy's smile brightened before his brow furrowed curiously and the Doctor could see Clara's dimple settled in his left cheek as he decided the man at his side was worth the answer. "There's the atmosphere," he began, "The air we breathe." Ben took a breath and turned his eyes to the sky, "And then it thins out and past the barriers that keep us safe are the stars. Beyond that other planets. Beyond that other worlds," he finished with wide eyes, lips pouted together.

"You're a clever boy," the Doctor admitted, "I've been in those stars and you're absolutely right."

Ben giggled again, light and shy, head ducking down before he shook it and declared, "That's impossible," then he considered it and asked, "Are you an astronaut?"

With a small shrug, the Doctor allowed, "I'm a traveler."

"So you've travelled to the stars," Ben surmised with a tilt of his head, "What's the coolest thing you've ever seen?"

The Doctor laughed and shook his head, "The coolest things aren't necessarily in the stars."

"They're not?"

He gestured at the boy, and told him with a nod, "You're quite cool."

Ben's cheeks went red and he bit his lip, looking down at Clara conversing with his parents. He could see them smiling at one another, Clara nervously picking at her fingers just at her waist as they exchanged words and nods and he told the Doctor in a whisper, "Clara's cool," then he turned to look at him, "She's my real mum."

"That so," the Doctor replied, feigning surprise.

Nodding, Ben continued to watch her, hands – the Doctor noticed – working nervously in the same way as his mother's around the wrapping on his present. "We meet here twice a month," he lamented, looking up at the Doctor with his big sad eyes before turning away and then looking at his package, "She's a nanny for a girl and a boy named Angie and Artie, did you know that?" The Doctor nodded. "I want her to be my nanny."

Looking from the boy's hands, to the sad look on his face, the Doctor prompted, "Have you asked her?"

When he looked up again, his eyes were bright red, but he swallowed nervously and shook his head, "I asked my mum, but she said it might be inappropriate – adults make things more complicated than they have to be. Why is that?"

The Doctor reached out to brush a hand over his head, palm landing easily at his soft cheek as he smirked, and the familiar response made him pull away on an exhale, settling his fingers around the bars beneath him to admit, "Adults don't always do what makes sense at the moment, but one day you'll understand that it's a complicated world, with complicated feelings, and they all want what's best for you in the long run."

With a long sigh, Ben told him earnestly, "They think I would love her better; they think I would prefer her over them – the world is complicated by fear. I have enough love for all of them, I just wish I could see her more often."

He looked Ben over a moment, surprised by such a profound thought from such a small child, but then he smiled, of course his mind would work that way: he was Clara's boy. Nudging his leg lightly, he offered, "You haven't opened your gift."

The boy laughed nervously and curled his fingers into the wrapping, gaining the attention of the woman below, the Doctor could see, and when he carefully tore away the paper, his face brightened to find a plush animated figure that obviously meant something to him. Ben smiled down at her widely and Clara laughed, shouting up, "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" He called, shifting on the bars and beginning to climb down.

Clara approached him, hand coming up instinctively to his back to ensure his safety and he turned unexpectedly, launching himself into her arms. The Doctor moved back to the ground as Ben wrapped his legs around Clara's waist and continued his hold on her neck, chin resting comfortably on her shoulder as she turned and told his parents softly, "We're just going around the corner for lunch and some ice cream, maybe take a walk for a bit, look around the shops…"

The father nodded with a soft laugh and raised a hand to stop her, "it's alright Clara, we'll get the full report from Ben for days…"

"And days," the mother added with an appreciative chuckle before her husband finished.

"Meet you back here at five?"

Her lips pushed together in a shy grin as the Doctor came to her side, watching her nod before the parents walked back to a car parked nearby with a simple wave at them that they returned. He turned and watched her eyes close; lifting a finger to swipe at her tears for her before she looked up apologetically and shifted to begin walking. "Come on, Ben," she urged.

"Could you carry me?" He mumbled against her shoulder, "Like you used to, mum?"

He watched her exhale roughly at the boy's choice of name as she tightened her grip on him, adjusting him against her tiny frame before whispering, "Yeah, sure I can – I can always carry you for a bit."

Shifting back, and gripping her shoulders, Ben laughed and asked, "Even when I'm older and bigger than you."

Making a face of confused surprise, Clara shrugged, "Quite possibly, but hopefully by then you'll lose the desire to be carried by your mum."

He nodded and told her assuredly, "I'll carry you then."

Clara released a sigh as she stared at the boy smiling back at her and she came to a stop, simply looking him over as he did the same. The Doctor stood frozen beside them, watching as Ben inched forward and kissed her cheek before laying his head again at her shoulder to close his eyes and Clara bowed her head. He imagined if she'd had the choice to make all over again, knowing Ben as she did now, she would have kept him despite the difficulty and, he knew, the fear.

Clara would have chosen to avoid this complication.

"Well! Are we going for chips or not?" He asked in exasperation, waiting for both sets of dark eyes to turn in his direction to laugh at him. "I was promised a bit of fish and chips and custard," he raised a finger and Clara shook her head and Ben looked between the two.

"What?" The boy asked.

Clara shifted, "He wants you to eat fish fingers and custard."

Offering a small anxious smile, Ben asked, "Is that what the cool boys eat?"

The Doctor pointed and smiled, brow rising to tell him, "Definitely what cool boys eat."

Ben turned swiftly and Clara's eyes closed as he asked, "Could we, mum? And then get a bow tie, because bow ties are cool, right Doctor?"

At her side, the Doctor nudged her and she sighed, "Alright," then she began walking, breaking into easy chatter with the boy holding tightly to her. It wasn't until hours later, when they'd entered the Tardis and she'd collapsed into one of the chairs around the console, that her smile finally withered away and he stood at the controls, eyeing her because he could see on her face all of the sorrow she usually kept hidden behind a well-placed mask. She brightened the moment she caught him looking, leaping up and clasping her hands together to skip to his side and bump his hip with her own.

"Please don't," he began, looking to the door, "Don't pretend that didn't just happen – that we didn't just spend the afternoon with your son and that it didn't break your heart."

Clara reached out to hold the edge of the console and she muttered, "What else am I supposed to do, Doctor? I can't regret my decision; I can't change my decision." She looked up at him with a slowly dissolving determination on her face. "I have the time I'm allowed for as long as they'll allow it and I'll continue with my life – that's why it was done, for the both of us to have the most out of life."

"Is that why you did it?" He questioned.

She shifted away from him and narrowed her eyes, "I was eighteen, just starting university. Just me and my dad with very little money in a cramped space – what should I have done?" Then she nodded, "You think I was selfish."

The Doctor's hands slipped off the knobs as he shook his head, "I don't think you were selfish, I know you were absolutely selfless because in all the time that I've known you, I've never seen you as bright as when you first laid eyes on your son and I've never seen you look as broken as you did the moment that little boy waved goodbye from the back of their car. You love him dearly and you endure this cycle of adoration and heartache because you knew it was best for him, because despite the pain it causes you, you know he's happy with a good family and a good life that…"

"I should go," she interrupted, turning sharply from him and beginning to make her way around the console quickly before he called her name, stopping her in her tracks, hand reaching out for the metal railing of the ramp that lead to the door.

The Doctor sighed as he moved towards her, "I'm sorry it was a decision you had to make in the first place; that you weren't in a position to keep him because I know how you feel for him – and you should, Clara," he told her with a tilt of his head, trying to meet her eyes as she avoided his, "And you'll never have to worry about not seeing him."

She was shaking her head when she finally glanced up, and he could see the redness in her eyes as she admitted, "In a few years, Doctor, things will be different. Right now he's a wonderful little boy who enjoys strolls through the park and small gifts and waffle cones filled with sugary treats. As he gets older this will become a chore to him, an obligation he'll one day ask to be freed from…"

The Doctor laughed and shot, "He'll seek your guidance about girls and ask your favorite bands and make fun of the movies you hold dear." He reached out to hold her shoulders, "Clara, he loves you."

The words crumpled her face as she shook her head, "Don't…" she began before he pulled her into a hug as she openly sobbed, and the Doctor imagined this was how every visit ended for her. Her son going on with his life and her going home alone, not to regret her decision, but to re-accept that she'd made it for the right reasons and he felt her fingers grasp tightly to the back of his coat as she buried her face in his chest.

He wished he could reassure her in a way that didn't involve crossing her own timeline and for a moment he considered it – taking her into her future – but the thought was pushed away when she pulled back and told him quietly after a ragged breath, "I know what you're thinking," before sniffling and looking up at him with a weak smile, "I've thought of asking you a couple of times."

"And instead you chose to have me meet him," he pointed out.

With a nod, Clara laid her head back down on his chest, listening to his heartbeats, "Everything is so fleeting; so complicated," she sighed. "I wanted him to know you so when I told him our stories he could see your face and know what you stood for," she smiled. "I wanted to give my son one simple thing in his life – the idea that there were awesome things in the universe; if you never gave up, if you never stopped trying, and always held onto hope."

He frowned, understanding Clara was already thinking about how their time together would be coming to an end – about how their time together would one day only be a story she could tell to children – and he ran a hand over the top of her head, letting it settle against her back. "I take it we'll be meeting again."

"If you'd like," Clara offered.

"I would like," he told her softly before adding, "I'm glad I met him, Clara."

"Does he really…" she started to ask before shifting away again and looking at his chest to finish, "Do you think he really loves me?"

The Doctor sighed, waiting for her to glance up to tell her, "Yes, Clara, he does." Then he nodded, "Now what do you say, spin around Aqaunium? Cliffs and waterfalls and gorgeous tropical climates – rides on dolphins? Well, dolphin-like creatures, incredibly friendly and they're covered in fur. And you know, we're bound to come across trouble, as we often do. Make a great story for a wondrous five year old we both know." He leaned back and smirked, watching her laugh lightly and bow her head bashfully before she nodded.

Two days later he dropped her back off at her flat with a limp and a new necklace made from the teeth of the talking shark threatening the merpeople they'd discovered underwater. She smiled knowingly up at him as she pushed through her door and turned with a nod and a quiet, "Next Wednesday?"

"Next Wednesday," the Doctor whispered, brow rising with the corners of his lips. She blushed as she closed the door and he went hurriedly down the steps and through the doors of his Tardis, coming to a stop at the console to consider the boy he knew she was now thinking about. A boy, he considered, she probably had on her mind a lot of the time. And he threw the Tardis into the time vortex without another thought, landing her easily at the edge of the park and emerging anxiously to glance around.

"You're ridiculous, mum!"

The words were shouted on a laugh that broke a boy's voice and the Doctor jerked back momentarily before peering out at the adolescent sitting atop a bench, feet planted in the seat next to Clara. He watched how she covered her mouth, head tilted back slightly to cover the laughter escaping her as she looked up at her son. His hair still hung lazily around his head thickly, but his nose was longer, broader – less mousy – and the Doctor watched them quietly exchange a few words before Ben shifted to sit beside her.

He wished he could hear their conversation, seeing her rub at his shoulder as he offered her dimpled smirk and then jumped from the bench, reaching for the young boy rushing towards them. Launching him into the air for a twirl, the Doctor could see their features were too similar to be some random child and he eyed Clara, whispering quietly, "Another son."

"Put him down, Ben, you'll make him sick," Clara called, standing and moving towards them to take the younger boy to settle to the ground, bending and running her fingers through his hair and giving him a smile and a small squeeze of his arms before telling the child something that made him give a quick set of enthusiastic hops.

She stood and reached for the boy's hand and they began to walk, Clara turning slightly and lifting her arm as the child she held began to skip and then twirl underneath her. The Doctor chuckled at that child just as Clara and Ben had and he watched as they moved down the street towards the ice cream shop and just before they turned the corner, Ben slipped his hand into Clara's. Smiling, the Doctor turned and began making his way back towards the Tardis.