Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. It's fanfiction.
A/N: Old stuff from a while back, a short free-write on Amelia's early life.
Aunt Sharon
Amelia had always been a quiet and somber child, and her aunt had allowed as much because of the circumstances. However, in the span of a day, she began to speak of a raggedy man who would come to take her away.
The woman was concerned and rightly so, stories of mad men and children stalked the front of her mind, of untold horrors and lifelong grievances. Her fingers were hovering over the buttons of the telephone when the child began describing of a police box which would appear and disappear out of nowhere. Then came fish fingers and custard and Sharon just blanched at the thought but it was nowhere near the expression she contrived at the repeated mention of the crack in her wall. She had to steer herself away and to the kitchen, where a kettle was immediately set upon the stove and a cup of calming tea was brewed.
A short while after, Sharon offered the girl a strained smile and asked if she had been watching the telly again.
When the weeks became months, her forced grins and indulgent laughs began to wane. Sharon had latched onto the stories of the raggedy doctor in stride because she thought her niece was finally breaking out of her shell and ceasing nonsense about a crack in her wall—she never thought an imaginary friend would be worse.
Amelia was utterly obsessed and it worried her.
Sharon had woken up in the middle of the night, breathing heavy as she processed the soft thuds and scrapes coming from downstairs. She grabbed the cricket bat, got up softly and toed down the hallway. A quick peek in her niece's room revealed no body and for a second, she wondered if the raggedy doctor was real and all other fantastical embellishments were Amelia's innate doing.
Her heart jumped into her throat and she rushed down the stairs. Empty rooms were all that met her and it wasn't until she discovered the back door unlocked that she peered out.
Amelia was sitting out in front of the newly-repaired shed, resting on a suitcase and the miniature police box, which she had the hobby woodworker carve and paint for her, grasped tight in her hands. She stared out into the stars with such a longing that for a moment, Sharon had to wonder just who this man was.
She padded over, hesitating for just a moment, and sat at her feet. She brought her hands up to cup around hers, small and cold and the police box in the middle. Amelia stared defiantly down at her, daring her to prove her wrong, looking years beyond her age and yet as naïve and filled with childlike wonder as the day Sharon took her to the largest toyshop in the city half a decade ago.
Sharon could tell from her eyes, so very intent and fierce, that she believed the raggedy doctor be true, and for a second, it didn't seem impossible that she would wait forever.
Amelia Pond
Shortly before her next birthday, Amelia Pond was ushered into the car and driven to a psychiatrist.
It was on the quaint side of town, where the traffic was light and the atmosphere was euphemistically calm and benign. Amelia was wary as she followed after her aunt into a white, stifling waiting room. There were no other children present that day and the girl could not gauge what she was about to face beyond the closed office doors.
Visits of this particular kind never foreboded good.
The man was a pudgy, bespectacled fellow, charming and well-mannered as he introduced himself. The adults discussed for what seemed like a long while to Amelia, who was quickly losing interest and finding the view from the window much more riveting.
They were talking about her and she hated it.
Arguing and yelling about her and at her as if she could adapt and change at their will. Amelia Pond, the girl who waited for her raggedy doctor. That was who she was. Why did it matter that she did? She was hurting no one.
She was broken out of her reverie when her aunt laid a comforting hand on her arm. The psychiatrist wanted to have a one on one chat with her, propriety and all wrapped up in a neat little package of how things should be and not how they are. The prospect did not settle well with Amelia, and she clutched at her aunt's dress but the woman pried her off, muttering words of empty console as she left the room.
The psychiatrist smiled. Amelia stared.
He began the conversation in a light tone, and before she knew it, he was easing into a question-answer rapport about the man who appeared and left in a police box.
Amelia may not have been strong and was rather lackadaisical in many aspects of her life but the one thing that never wavered was her faith in the raggedy doctor. So when the impudent man told her firmly that her friend was not real and that she was projecting to make up for underlying issues, she promptly bit him.
He let out an ear-splitting yowl and shot back from her. His assistant rushed in, polished and impeccable, a touch of annoyance across her features. She raised an eyebrow at Amelia, tutted quietly, and went on to subdue the frazzled man.
Her aunt barged in a second later, jumpy and defensive before becoming stern when she realized what Amelia had done. The session was cut short and she received the longest lecture of her short life on how it was not proper etiquette to bite someone when they upset her.
Her next session was a week later and this time, the psychiatrist wore a thick sweater over his dress shirt. Amelia had quickly wised up to what this man did for a living and what he had set out to do regarding her aunt's concerns.
Amelia didn't make it easy for him. When she wasn't keeping her mouth shut, she was petulant and rude. The psychiatrist lasted a few more weeks before her aunt decided to relieve him of her wrath and take her to another.
The next one was a comely and warm woman, had quite the matronly air about her but they were all the same when it came to her raggedy doctor. They didn't think he was real and told her as much.
She bit her as well.
Her aunt was horrified. Amelia thought it was a nice tradition, even though she suspected the raggedy doctor would be just as appalled.
She received another lecture when she got home, this time coupled with a grounding, but honestly, it wasn't like she bit them because she wanted to. They didn't taste very nice and she felt idiotic about doing it, but the look on their faces when they talked about him riled her up like no other.
Her raggedy doctor was important.
He was different.
And he was going to come back for her.