ayyy i have no idea wh- nvm i was broswing omegle and i found this johnlock rp and john had an abusive father and didnt want sherlock to find out and i was like "huh i wonder who should i do that with"

then i realized i haven't done nothing but 2 one shots with Amy/11 so i figured i'd do a proper 2 chapter fic with them.

tw: child abuse (mild) in this chapter

i own shit. i own yo man tho jkjk ok whatever

Amy waited by the gate patiently. She got on her tippy toes and looked over the crowd of people entering the High School. When she saw her best friend, Rory, she hugged him tightly. She smiled a bit, expecting her boyfriend to be behind him since they usually walk together. When the Doctor didn't come, she frowned at nothing in particular. Where was her boyfriend? She hadn't really been able to talk to him or go over to his house after his father returned to home from god knows what. He barely returned her phone calls and when he answered, he just said he'd call her back with a rushed voice. Things were looking fishy. When the bell rang, she went to her first period with Rory and he helped calm her nerves.

"Do you he's just sick or something?"

"Probably, don't worry."

"What if he got jumped and killed?" Fear ran through her at the thought. She started biting her nails then the door opened. The Doctor came in and she wanted to smile but his appearance scared her. His hair was all messed up, he had a fresh cut on his cheek and he walked with a slight limp. After giving the teacher a note, he sat down behind his girlfriend. He just took out a pencil and a piece of paper and took notes. Amy and Rory exchanged glances. Usually, when he came in late, he'd start spewing this totally random story about some planet needing him or that a young woman's house was burning and she thanked him with a little something special (Amy hated that joke) but this time, he said nothing. Rory cleared his throat and turned around.

"So, who'd you save this time?"

"Good morning, Rory. Good morning, Amy." He said in a quiet voice. Amy reached out to cup his cut cheek and when she touched it, he flinched back. His eyes widened then sat up straighter.

"Oi, chinny. What's up with you?"

"Nothing is wrong, Amy. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're talking like you're a robot and you look like you got seriously beat up." He froze at the last words. He shook his head a bit too quick and guilty at the last part.

"No one hurt me." When the bell rang, Amy felt like she was just talking to a lost cause. She loved The Doctor more than anything and seeing him suffer like this was hurting her. She looked at Rory to see if he could say anything that would get through to her beloved Doctor but all he did was shrug at her. She hoped her Doctor wasn't hurt. I mean, she knew he wasn't okay. He hadn't been for a while.

His weird behavior started early at the age of 9. When they first talked. She had sat next to him but he was so quiet and kept to his self. One day, he went missing for a week. When he came back, he had a tear stained face and slumped all day. On the Tuesday of that week, she invited him to play with her and Rory. He seemed a bit hesitant. He agreed any ways and they went off playing in the field.

Skip forward 5 months, he had mentioned to them he hated the name "John Smith" as he had a cousin named the same thing. On a sunny afternoon at the age of 10, John, Rory and Amy were investigating Rory's tree house, checking for monsters. That's when a bird flew in and plopped on the ground. It started struggling to fly again and the three kids looked to each other with wide mouths. John, however, knew what to do. He commanded Amy to go snap a branch of the tree and Rory to get some bread and a piece of old clothing. He waited patiently for both to return. Once they did, John went to work and carefully patched up the bird's wing. It no longer made loud chirping noises and happily out the bread. Amy looked up at John, who was wearing a proud smile.

"Wow, you're like a doctor or something."

"Yeah, you should be a doctor." Rory agreed. John pondered the idea for a second till he provided a toothy grin.

"You guys could call me the Doctor." And ever since then, he's been the Doctor.

The important details came later. When he and Amy were 13 years old, they sat in her room, holding hands. She had been confused about one thing he never explained. Why he had disappeared and came back crying. She asked him that night and was greeted by shifty eyes. His grip on her hand tightened as he shamefully admitted his mother had died in an accident. Nothing else. Amy had no idea what is was like losing like losing your mum. She hugged him and they fell asleep in her bed. Her shirt with soaked with his tears but she didn't care. Her Doctor wasn't okay.

Ever since she found out, she wanted to know why his mother had died, but she guessed it'll talk a hell of a lot drinking.

She couldn't help but wonder if he was reminded of his mother's death by his father but she shook the idea off. That was the man's wife. Of course, it doesn't help to go off and get drunk for 5 years then come back into his son's life. Amy had been there a few nights when he'd stumble in and throw up on the floor. She liked to sneak out the window, so he wouldn't have to deal with his father in the morning.

Throughout the whole day, she chewed on her nails, dreading last period. She sat next to him and she didn't know how it would work without him talking to her.

When he sat next to her, she gave him a smile and kissed his injured cheek. She felt him tense up and give her a hasty smile in response. She didn't understand him and his complex self. Something was definitely wrong. As they sat in a back row, barricaded from the others, she whispered to him:

"Want to talk about it now?"

"No." The word make Amy get furious and sad at the same time. Didn't matter of the first one, she never let sadness overtake her. She always went to angry. She turned the other way and scooted her desk away from his a little. It broke her heart just a bit to hear his doing the same. A lump got caught in her throat but she looked down at the paper. Stupid Doctor.

Mentally, he was happy with his self. He had gotten Amy away from his self. It was only for the best, honestly. He was a string of bombs but divided into parts. Once one thing bad happened to him, it set off a whole string of events. And he'd die if something wrong ever happened to his Amelia. If a tiny hair on her head got ruffled, he'd never ever forgive his self. Especially if the blow had come from his father. Then he'd have to kill someone or get shipped off.

"It's all for the best." He reminded his self quietly.