"Interface. How long have I been here, according to this time stream?"
Amy was slumped against a column, but her body was still tense, reading to jump up at a moment's notice. The handbots were off patrol, but she never felt completely comfortable in the knowledge. Hearing herself speak sounded strange, and she realized that she had not done that in a while.
"It has been two years, one month, three days, seven hours and fourteen minutes since you checked in, Amy Pond."
"Ah, yes," Amy mumbled to herself. "Sounds about right."
The garden was beautiful all right, but Amy didn't feel like exploring. She never really had time to get far, or she would be fighting her way back through hordes of handbots. She just didn't feel up to it. Besides, she didn't quite see the point of beauty anymore.
"Interface," Amy said. "Can you tell me about the planets surrounding Apalapucia?"
"Apalapucia is the sixth planet is the Haslurian system. The closet neighboring planet is Jamusfive."
"And how's that? As lovely of a place to visit as this one?" There was an edge of bitterness and sarcasm in her voice. Amy knew that the Interface had nothing to do with her being trapped here, but it wasn't as if it had feelings, and sometimes it felt good to have something vaguely present to be angry at.
"The surface of Jamusfive is covered with a noxious gas. It cannot sustain life."
"Of course it is." There was a thin layer of dust on the ground next to her, and Amy traced patterns in it. A star, a flower, a bow tie. She wondered. "Interface. Can you show me the planet Gallifrey?"
"I currently have no record for your request."
"I know it's a real planet," Amy said, wiping her hand through her dust scribbles, brushing them all away. "Gallifrey. Planet of the Time Lords?"
"I currently have no record for your request. I apologize, Amy Pond. My systems are updated on the hour."
"Don't sweat it." Her mouth was set in a hard line, nails scraping the ground in a rhythmic boredom. She looked up at the sky again, where she knew the Interface was. "Do you know anything about the Doctor? A man, called the Doctor."
A hologram appeared before Amy, but it wasn't of anyone she recognized. It was an older-looking man than the one she knew as the Doctor; goofy-looking multi-colored scarf draped around his neck, mass of brown curls taking over her head. What confirmed his identity for her, though, was the hat. It was ridiculous and large and floppy and she could imagine him thinking that it just looked icool/i.
"It's not the right one," Amy said, while simultaneously reaching out to the image. It flickered, but remained the same. She imagined this man, so alike but so different from the Doctor she had known. Flitting around the universe, picking up pretty young things without a thought to consequence. Saving the day, becoming the hero, then swaggering off to his TARDIS with a snap of his fingers. Off to the next world he could dabble in, mess with.
If the Doctor had done what he had promised, she wouldn't be here. She would be at home, safe. At home with Rory and-
Amy felt her mind skating on the edges of things she refused to dwell on, things that could not be, futures that could not be lived. The point was, the Doctor lied. Almost everything the Doctor had ever promised her was a lie.
That wasn't fair to think. Amy fought herself as she let her eyes go shut, just for a moment, blocking out everything around her. The Doctor tried. The Doctor was her best friend and he was out there working on it; he had to be. He didn't mean for this to happen. He would put things right.
Sometimes she couldn't stop imagining the worst things. Them trying but giving up, flying off into space. Rory going back to Leadworth and marrying someone else; the Doctor, of course, with some new, young girl, fresh and untainted. Bright eyes through which he could see the universe.
Amy's eyes felt dulled, and they hurt, and she did not want to open them again.
Both of their faces swarmed through her mind, Rory, and the Doctor, and her mother, and her father, her Aunt Sharon and Ms. Barton, her maths teacher from secondary school. They mixed and mingled in her brain until she could tell one from the other.
The was someone coming across the grass to her. A person, not a hand bot. A person.
She thought it looked like the Doctor, not hers, but the scarfed one she had seen in the Interface. Why would he be coming for her? As the figure came closer, though, she saw it wasn't the Doctor, not at all. The curls that she had thought belonged to him framed River's face; it was River who had come for her after all this time. She still wore the scarf though, and it dragged as she approached with a knowing smile. Amy wanted to stand and greet her, hug her, but her body felt limp as if she had been drugged. River reached for her, though, and began to pick her up.
"No," Amy said, head heavy against River's shoulder. "This isn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to save you." Her ears were wet, and she could hear River hushing her, but it sounded far away now. "I'm so, so sorry I didn't save you. I know how you must have waited, and I never came back for you." Amy felt her body melting into the air.
She then woke up with a start. She was still slumped against the column, and with a check of her watch she knew she was late. How could she have just fallen asleep? The bots would be on the prowl if she didn't get back behind the temporal engines soon. Home, sweet home.
Stupid, she thought as she walked back, on watch, hand never fully leaving the katana had stolen from the galleries. Lingering in her own mind. She wouldn't let that happen again.