Disclaimer: I own nothing used or mentioned in this fic.
Enjoy.
Rise of the Fallen
Death was peaceful.
Or, at least Amelia Williams, former time traveler, thought so.
Her husband, Rory, had died a few weeks back and now he was buried next to her.
Death was peaceful.
Until the rain came.
She and her husband were awoken.
They rose from the ground as cybermen, not as humans.
She thought it was pitiful. The couple had fought for so long to keep themselves and others from this evil, but here they were, soldiers of metal.
Amy glanced around the graveyard. Most others were milling around, confused as to where they were. Next to her stood Rory, in the same metal as everyone else. She turned and stared down at the empty velvet box, the shape of a withered old woman imprinted onto the bottom. A bouquet of sunflowers rested against the headstone, along with a centurion's helmet. Someone must have visited their shared grave.
They waited, knowing that they couldn't deny the orders that were to be directed towards the new army. Static filled their ears. Then it was broken by a Scottish accent, not unlike her own.
"Thank you! Thank you so much! I really didn't know. I wasn't sure. Did I say sometimes, thank you! I am not a good man. And I'm not a bad man. I am not a hero. I'm definitely not a president and no, I'm not an officer," The voice ranted, "You know what I am? I am an idiot! With a box and a screwdriver, passing through, helping out, learning. I don't need an army. I never have! Because I've got them. Always them! Because love, it's not an emotion. Love is a promise and he will never hurt her. PE, catch!"
The static consumed their hearing once more, and Amy would have smiled if she could have. It was the Doctor, no doubt about that. Possibly not the one she had known, but still him.
Her metallic hand reached to her right and interlaced with Rory's. She remembered her Doctor, the one that kept calling her Pond, the one that had come back many years after they had first met, the one that had eaten fish sticks and custard and wore ridiculous things like fezzes and bowties, claiming that that they were cool. It may not be that man, but it was still the same person.
It was another few minutes before the static was replaced by a different voice.
"Attention! This is not a good day. This is earth's darkest hour! And look at you miserable lot. We are the fallen and today we shall rise, the Army of the Dead shall save the Land of the Living," It yelled, encouraging, commanding, "This is not the order of a general, nor the whim of a lunatic. This is a promise! The promise of a soldier!"
Her grin would have grown larger. Her grip on her husband's fingers tightened.
Together, they flew into the sky, their feet replaced with rockets.
There they were, saving the world once more.
In her last moments, Amelia Williams heard one simple sentence, one that had changed her life in so many ways, on countless occasions.
Come along, Pond!
