1. I Speak Baby
It took him years to learn...
A/N: I love the Doctor with a family, and his very first companion. I’m thinking of writing a couple more chapters like this involving the origins of some of his more peculiar behaviours. Suggestions welcome. This is also my first attempt at light- heartedness so please review and tell me what you think.
He speaks baby.
His wife had forbidden him, all those many, many years ago. She said he needed to learn how to understand even when there were no words. He had heeded her, of course. He couldn’t refuse her anything. But, okay, sometimes he couldn’t help himself.
He would speak softly to his children, whispering words he could only hope they would understand, never expecting them to answer back. And his wife was right. After countless misunderstandings, misreadings, louder cries than the ones preceding, he realized he felt closer to his kids by reading their body language alone. A different form of communication.
Sure, he was still the Doctor, and had always had a loose relationship with rules, but he only tried to teach himself baby one or two hundred times. Not many in the grand scheme of the universe. His children, however, had taken his wife’s side and had early on developed the annoying habit of not always giving him his way. He couldn’t get through to them. Or they couldn’t get through to him. Even when he entered their minds he saw only fuzzy images and colours, and he wanted WORDS.
He was sure they must be properly saying something when they gurgled, or whined. He secretly tried to imitate said noises when the missus wasn’t around, but those kids never let him get away with anything. She, for all her high and mighty making him learn and communicate with his children, had an uncanny ability to seem to know everything he did and never failed to laugh at his secret attempts.
Too soon, he knew he had missed his chance. His children grew and learned his own languages and he could talk with them in the old boring way that everyone else knew. He surreptitiously attempted Baby again when his oldest grandson was born, then his granddaughter, and each one after that. Still frustrated at this silly made up rule that he had to be out of the loop at some point, he all but gave up hope, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to stick to the rules and wait out this indecipherable phase of his descendant’s lives.
Then they placed her in his arms. And, though he loved all of his grandchildren equally, he didn’t think he had seen another child so beautiful since her mother. She took his hearts away, and he felt almost a niggling sensation at the edge of his mind when he held her near. He attributed it to a distinct fondness.
“What’s her name?” His wife asked as they cooed over the newest addition to their family.
“We’ve decided to name her after that beautiful delicate flower, Arkytior.”
The baby in his arms gurgled loudly, and suddenly the Doctor gasped softly, then began to chuckle to himself. When they were alone a little while later, he leaned in and whispered to his fellow co- conspirator, having finally found someone who went along with his mad schemes. It was then that he realized how special she would become to him. Because he had unmistakably heard the newborn scoff at her given name, choosing an entirely different one for herself. And, years later, when she was the only one daring and peculiar enough to run away with him, he made sure that was the name she was known by.
Yes, he speaks baby. Susan had taught him.
A/N: I love the Doctor with a family, and his very first companion. I’m thinking of writing a couple more chapters like this involving the origins of some of his more peculiar behaviours. Suggestions welcome. This is also my first attempt at light- heartedness so please review and tell me what you think.
He speaks baby.
His wife had forbidden him, all those many, many years ago. She said he needed to learn how to understand even when there were no words. He had heeded her, of course. He couldn’t refuse her anything. But, okay, sometimes he couldn’t help himself.
He would speak softly to his children, whispering words he could only hope they would understand, never expecting them to answer back. And his wife was right. After countless misunderstandings, misreadings, louder cries than the ones preceding, he realized he felt closer to his kids by reading their body language alone. A different form of communication.
Sure, he was still the Doctor, and had always had a loose relationship with rules, but he only tried to teach himself baby one or two hundred times. Not many in the grand scheme of the universe. His children, however, had taken his wife’s side and had early on developed the annoying habit of not always giving him his way. He couldn’t get through to them. Or they couldn’t get through to him. Even when he entered their minds he saw only fuzzy images and colours, and he wanted WORDS.
He was sure they must be properly saying something when they gurgled, or whined. He secretly tried to imitate said noises when the missus wasn’t around, but those kids never let him get away with anything. She, for all her high and mighty making him learn and communicate with his children, had an uncanny ability to seem to know everything he did and never failed to laugh at his secret attempts.
Too soon, he knew he had missed his chance. His children grew and learned his own languages and he could talk with them in the old boring way that everyone else knew. He surreptitiously attempted Baby again when his oldest grandson was born, then his granddaughter, and each one after that. Still frustrated at this silly made up rule that he had to be out of the loop at some point, he all but gave up hope, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to stick to the rules and wait out this indecipherable phase of his descendant’s lives.
Then they placed her in his arms. And, though he loved all of his grandchildren equally, he didn’t think he had seen another child so beautiful since her mother. She took his hearts away, and he felt almost a niggling sensation at the edge of his mind when he held her near. He attributed it to a distinct fondness.
“What’s her name?” His wife asked as they cooed over the newest addition to their family.
“We’ve decided to name her after that beautiful delicate flower, Arkytior.”
The baby in his arms gurgled loudly, and suddenly the Doctor gasped softly, then began to chuckle to himself. When they were alone a little while later, he leaned in and whispered to his fellow co- conspirator, having finally found someone who went along with his mad schemes. It was then that he realized how special she would become to him. Because he had unmistakably heard the newborn scoff at her given name, choosing an entirely different one for herself. And, years later, when she was the only one daring and peculiar enough to run away with him, he made sure that was the name she was known by.
Yes, he speaks baby. Susan had taught him.