I love this movie. I love these characters. I love this couple. I don't own any of the above, unfortunately. What more to say?


Captain Amelia had not cried for many, many years. She hadn't cried as a little girl, when her friends teased her or bullies went after her. She hadn't cried as a teenager, when her mother left or her father died. She doubted she had cried as a baby. She wasn't crying now, when her best friend was killed. But she was deathly afraid that she was about to.

The wind was harsh up in the crow's nest; it whipped back her fur and stung her face. It was cold, too. She shivered. There was a moon ahead though, bright and full. A giant orb hanging in the sky. She watched it pass, unable to take her eyes off of it. She could almost swear she saw his face in it.

She was startled from her thoughts by a loud huffing. The ropes attached to the crow's nest began to shake as someone struggled to climb it. Amelia retreated to the other side of the nest as Doctor Doppler tumbled in.

"Long way up, isn't it?" he asked between panting breaths.

"Doctor, did you have a purpose in coming up here?" she asked, not facing him. She couldn't help shivering in the next gust of wind.

"Yes, actually. I brought you a blanket and some food. You weren't at supper."

"I, unlike some others, can skip meals and survive," she said disdainfully, but turned to accept his offerings. Wrapping the blanket around her, she sunk back down into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry about your friend," he apologized.

"Posh. Life goes on," she said harshly, but it felt her heart was being ripped in two.9

"I suppose so. Life always goes on, doesn't it? It doesn't wait for anyone to catch up. Anyone."

She glanced up at him, surprised, then down again. She blinked furiously.

"It's alright. You should cry. It's quite healthy, actually," he said kindly. She made a small noise, almost a sob, in the back of her throat, but coughed against it and said, "Doctor, I, Captain Amelia, do not cry. No matter what the circumstances."

He snorted quietly. She glanced up at him, nonplussed, and stared him full in the face. His eyes were so big and naïve. No, not naïve. Trusting. Innocent. They were golden, the same color as the sun. Arrow's eyes had always been so cold and empty. Hard. Even when he was smiling, they were more like the moon. There was something about the Doctor's eyes that made her feel safe.

"Arrow was a good man," Doppler said softly. "And a good friend. It's not wrong for you to mourn him, it's wrong for you not to. Let it out, my dear, before it lets itself out."

She stared up at the moon as the doctor rustled softly behind her. Maybe he was right. There was so much pain trapped inside her.

"Just cry," he advised, and that was it. The kindness in his eyes broke her and her heart and eyes released their burden as one. She was sobbing, sobbing for Arrow and her father and mother and every time someone had hurt her. She was making up for years and years of bottled up pain, crying in the doctor's arms.

Slowly, slowly, her flood of tears slowed and she felt her consciousness slip away from her. Moons and suns turned into sobbing eyes in the dark dreams dancing through her mind. Then, blissfully, nothing.

She awoke in the morning alone in the crow's nest, the blanket tucked around her with the utmost care. The stale bread had been tucked under her head as a pillow, albeit a hard one. She touched her face and felt the tear stains, but for some reason she felt free. Smiling slightly to herself, she swung out down on the ropes, ready for another day.


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