Author's note-Madame Kovarian and Amy Pond are characters of Doctor Who(currently directed by Steven Moffat), not mine. This one-shot is based off a fan-theory on who Kovarian is, and I hope its confirmed. Its by the POV of...well, spoilers. Also spoilers for almost everything after The Rebel Flesh and the River Song reveal. Depending on your perspective, this takes place both after "The Girl Who Waited" and before "The Impossible Astronaut" simultaneously.
I hate you Raggedy Man. I hate you so much. Funny-I used to love you. Hell, I tried to sleep with you that one time-remember Doctor? You looked just like Rory when I first came on to him. I remember that time: he was so flustered and nervous-of course, that's back when I thought he played for the other team. Thankfully, he didn't(not thankfully, NOT AT ALL!). Why did I come to hate you raggedy man? WHY?!
Remember when we first met? I was but a cheerful little kid with my aunt Sharon, in a life that didn't need to make sense. Then all of a sudden you crashed from the heavens in a magic blue box, and I checked it out like the stupid kid that I was. In a way, you were a kid when I met you-your people may retain all they know and key personality traits when they reform their body, but everything else is like a new child being born(I referenced this nice old man called Mott by the way, who will never see you as the Doctor he cares for). I remember the apple we shared, the odd yet sentimental taste of fish fingers with custard. And you'd promise to see me in 5 minutes.
Even after the time to rebuild your magic box, you were off by a factor of over 2 million. And you have a TIME. MACHINE. I bet you didn't even bother to check the date-and I later found out this isn't the first time. I checked the time periods you have a fondness for traveling, and one of them was the 51st century. I see that history repeats itself-you promised a girl called Reinette you see her, you let her look inside your mind(and I thought my time with Rory got intimate). But you missed her over and over, and she died waiting for you. Why didn't you just pick her up after her ordeal-it wouldn't have interfered with your time-line, and I doubt scooping her up would've altered history that drastically.
But there's a huge difference between me and Reinette: Reinette was a success. She lived a life of luxury in both pleasure and culture, and became one of the most influential women of her era(I can't say that someone named a ship after me three thousand years after my death). Died age 42? Given the time she came from and the life she lived, its a fair trade. But me? 12 years of a monster in the back of my mind, 12 years of a subconscious misery for my parents that never existed, 12 years waiting for the raggedy wizard in a life that doesn't make sense
OH, let me talk to you about how my life makes NO FREAKING SENSE! My parents never existed, yet I still remembered them deep down. Think about that...oh, if H. G. Wells knew about me, he'd go completely mad. Then suddenly I had a mom and dad. I always had a mom and dad. But I never had a mom and dad-the life of an orphan and a not-orphan existing in the same mind, kicking and beating poor cause and effect. You say that time making no sense was normal, right? Then why doesn't it hurt for you? You're more of a madman in a box than I thought, Oncoming Storm.
Still, I wouldn't hate you this much if I never saw you again. No, you restored hope in me so that said hope would be crushed later again. Remember our happy days? I was playful with one of the scourges of the universe like they were just some silly, squawking pepperpots. You and I saved a beautiful and ancient beast, became friends with Winston Churchill and the only thing I didn't like about your house were the bunk-beds in your guest room.
And, in spite of how much I hate you, it's not mainly because of what I went through when I was your companion. Yes, I know its amazing, but I knew you'd keep me safe-even if you didn't, the dead don't hate. That's the job of those that cared for the dead, the true victims in the end. I survived the Weeping Angels thanks to you, I wasn't even touched by the monsters that led to the death of your race, the near-annihilation of the universe thanks to us...but that's not the true horror you unleash on the universe. Death is merciful, immediate and for everyone but us immutable. Then you had to become the scourge of creation, making me a victim in the war against you, and then salt was poured on my countless wounds when you made me the girl who waited again.
I was stuck in Apaluchia, alone, for 36 years. 36 years of running from idiot Handbots who make a mockery out of my husband's profession. 36 years with no-one to help me, 36 years of pure isolation. I never told you just how horrid it was there, so I think I'll tell you what it was like: I ran as hard as I could for 6 years. Then I screamed and cried and sobbed for the next 6 years. Then I tried to end my own life in the next 6, then I begged for death for another 6, and then for 5 minutes I had a bit of hope before being crushed. Yes, its not precise, but in the last 12 years I've become desensitized. So I don't feel true fear or misery anymore(though you still surprised me last time we met), however I still felt one thing-unadulterated hatred, for you and you alone.
But I still had some good parts in my life. You and Rory saw me again. Oh, Rory...you're the last person I ever cared for. Even alone for 36 years, a shadow of the person I was, I still loved you. I can't feel empathy anymore after what I've gone through, yet I still remember the intense love I felt for him. I still don't get how any man can wait almost 1900 years for a girl, fate of the universe notwithstanding, and still be completely sane(though the fact that it was under his own will probably explains it). I was willing to deal with you in order to be with Rory...until Amy came into play. Rory would've taken us both, but you tricked him and lied to him by taking my past self, and you left me to die. Not just die, never exist at all. Don't tell me that this was the better option, that you spared me the misery of the last 36 years, you didn't.
You thought I don't exist, don't you? Well I do, even if I shouldn't. I grew up with the time crack-it made me a living paradox. Parents never born? I exist. All of creation never was beyond our tiny corner? I'm the key to restoring it, and the Pandorica the method. You were never born? I will you back into reality. A time-line that never happened, a time-line that always happened and now a body with no birth? My head! My head screams at me every night! My brain is filled with every life I could have ever lived collide, destroying everything of Amelia Pond beyond memories. I'm not Amelia Pond, Amy Williams or even human anymore.
And I don't die. I don't want to die, even though I need to. I don't have the will to die. And my body doesn't age...it just warps and defects. My body can't deal with the insanity of my life! After 150 years here, I checked what happened to me and looked into a mirror...
I saw Madame Kovarian in the mirror. It wasn't her image in my head, it wasn't her form mocking me...I am Madame Kovarian. I was sick when I looked in the mirror, literally and figuratively sick. But I'm not Amy Pond anymore, Doctor. I'm glad I was, as it gives me a reason to live beyond the bravery that's rotted down to base cowardice. I can't care beyond hating you, I can't love or lust or want or pridefully mock beyond the fine-tuned, infinitely sharpened and completely immutable HATRED I feel for you. Right here. Right now. Every. Single. Moment.
And then I met the Silence. I thought they were monstrous, that they were the reason for all my suffering. But they save me from that rock-and I don't care about them. I don't feel gratitude or friendship for them, and they think the same. I wonder if they're capable of empathy, or if they're only motivated by a sense of duty and ambition. They let me keep my memory of them. And they survived, Doctor, they ran like you and lived. You see, when they say "Silence Will Fall", its the silence that you will bring. And that's not the only thing you've done. You are what monsters fear, and let me count the ways:
The Daleks are the scourge of the universe, hating every other living thing. Yet you impede them so much, and they fear you. It's not fear born out anger for defying them, its instinctive terror. Fear you reignite in their heartless, squishy bodies and make them become worse and worse in order to deal with you. Somehow, the Daleks are genuinely horrified by you, and that makes them deadlier than ever.
The Cybermen catalog you and show worry. While their ideal of survival is something I wouldn't wish for anyone but you, that's all they want initially-survival. You lead them to make grandiose plans of conflict because you defy their desire to survive so utterly. The monsters start out small, but you motivate them to become larger.
The small-time "monsters" who threaten our little corner of the cosmos. You think you save the world again and again, and you may do...but Earth is feared by everyone else. Some blindingly attack the Earth because its the world where monsters come to die faster than anywhere else. Tell me, what do you expect all other species to feel when they realize just what Earth is? Fear at the raw power the human race must have? Envy at their indomitable existence? We aren't as popular as you think, Doctor.
But by far the worst thing you've done is the misery you inflict on those you "care" for. If we can, we leave you before it can happen, but that almost never happens-and I've checked. My predecessor was forced to live a quiet life for her own safety and her grandfather sees you as dead. Before her your monster of a friend traumatized that companion's family, before that you got your companion trapped in another world. Before that we gets companion's who had their family members die(said monster of a friend possessing one of their fathers, by the way), lost in time and space and some even died. Especially your first companion-your own family. Mother, brother, father, child and grandchildren in an inferno that killed your species.
Because of necessity, I am denied the pleasure of revealing to you who I am. And if in those 200 years you ever meet me again and I tell you, your expression will be of utter horror and disbelief. And you'll only be left saying that what I've done cannot be. Not because of the paradox, but because you can't bring yourself to think I could do this. And I'll tell you how I can do this to my husband, my daughter and myself: because I hate you. I hate you so much, so utterly and unimaginably with nothing to restrain it. I will debase myself to hurt you, I will have those I cared about in pain to stab your heart, I will end a billion lives to make your life HELL. I hate you more than the Daleks or Cybermen or Sontarans, I hate you more than the Silence, I hate you even more than you do. I simply don't care about anything else, Doctor. In summation, I HATE YOU.
I've Stopped Waiting, Raggedy Man.