"Day 934. Still no sign of Rory, or Amy. Or the Doctor, for that matter." Brian looked down at his steaming cup of tea, and exhaled deeply.
"I don't know. I don't know if I can do this much longer. No sign of them for over two years. It's never been this long! I can't help but think...that something has happened to them."
Brian rose and turned off the camera, then began to pace around his small flat in Cardiff. He bumped into his end table, sending a cascade of tapes to the ground.
"Bugger!"
With the tapes moved, Brian could see a dusty picture frame on the table. He picked it up and blew off the dust. It was a picture of him and Amanda, his wife, while she was still pregnant with Rory. He was bombarded with a rush of emotions he worked hard to bury; the feelings too painful for his feeble soul to handle.
"I still love you." he said with a tear streaming down his cheek as he collapsed to his knees. He thought back to the day, the day it all happened.
"You're obsessed, Brian! I can't deal with this! Rory is gone, and it hurts. We have to move on!"
"He's our son! We can't just 'move on'!"
"Well maybe you can't, but I can. I want you gone by tomorrow."
"You can't be serious."
"My son is dead! I ca-"
"You don't know that!"
"Then where is he, Brian?! Where is he? What do you know that you can't tell me?"
"You have to trust me! There is someone keeping him safe. I know where they are. Well, where they may be."
"Who is it then, Brian?"
"I...I can't say."
"Exactly! You're going insane! Brian, I love you. But I can't handle this. My son is dead, and it hurts me. I need to move on, and you can't. I'm sorry."
After that, Brian left Leadworth and lived in London for a short time to do research. Brian spent weeks scouring the web and city for information on the Doctor and people who may have known him. After being called 'insane' and 'senile' a few times, he found someone to help him. An older gentleman who seemed to know everything about the Doctor.
"Who are you?"
"That's not important." replied the older man, adjusting his knit hat.
"Well, fine. What do you know about the Doc-"
"Don't say his name. I know more than you can imagine."
"But...how?" Brian had spent countless hours trying to find information, and nothing came up until he got a note on his door. 'I can help you find him'.
"I...my...my granddaughter." He appeared to be in physical pain saying this.
"Is she missing also?"
"No. She traveled with him, but...It's not important. I can't talk long. Go to Cardiff. The Doctor has to go there periodically. Please, if you find him. Tell him...tell him she's happy."
"Who are you?!" Brian almost shouted, as the older man got up from the tea shop table.
"A friend."
Brian, having nothing else to go on, moved to Cardiff. It had been a year and a half since then, and his life had been largely routine. Film the log and wander around Cardiff waiting for the tell tale sound of the Doctor arriving. No sign of him yet, so Brian went on as well as he could. He would wait for them as long as it took.
The old man some how got in touch with Brian after a few months. Brian filled him in, which didn't take long. Nothing had happened since he moved.
"Maybe you should...stop looking. You're running yourself into the ground." The old man sounded sympathetic and tired, as if he was carrying part of Brian's burden on his shoulders.
"I can't just stop! I'll keep looking, for as long as it takes! I'll wait a hundred years if I must. A thousand! Two thousand! I'm a Williams; we're famously good at waiting. It's in my blood. I will never, ever abandon them. I will find them."
"I hope you do, son. I really hope you do."
That was the last Brian heard from the man.
On day 942, Brian found himself outside a tiny thrift store in the heart of Cardiff. He normally wouldn't have given it a second glance, but something caught his eye. On a table jutting out into the street was a pile of dusty, ragged old books. On the end was a small green novella, with 'Dinosaurs on a Spaceship' written in large print on the side.
"It can't be."
Brian had bought the book and given the teller 10 pounds for it.
"But sir...it's only 2 pounds."
"Keep the change! Just, thank you!"
He rushed home and into his flat. He was unsure of what to do. What were the odds of someone writing a book about dinosaurs on a spaceship? It could just be a coincidence...No! It wasn't. Brian threw the kettle on the stove, and dove into the book.
It didn't take him long to realize that the book was indeed about his adventure. A father is helping his son and his fiancé fix the TV when they are transported to a spaceship full of dinosaurs by an alien in a hot air balloon. Brian finished the short novella a few hours after he got it. He wasn't sure how he felt. Who wrote this? Was it a sign from Rory? As he turned the last page, he hoped to find something else. Something more. Something with closure.
He couldn't believe it, but he did.
AFTERWORD by Rory Williams
"Dinosaurs on a Spaceship was really an incredible experience, and I have to thank my father, Brian Williams, for that. I never got the chance to tell him, but he was the best father a man could have. He was kind and clever and resourceful, hardworking and caring, and I wouldn't be the man I am today if it weren't for him. I miss him every day, but I know he's in a better place right now. I know that he is thinking of me and misses me too, and if I could talk to him again, I would want him to know that I'm happy now, I truly am. Amy and I are surrounded by friends who love us, and we couldn't have a better life, although we do miss the people we used to have in our lives.
I love you, Dad. I'll see you again someday."
Brian stumbled out of his chair and leaned against the wall. His years of searching, and he had found them. All his years of searching and they were...dead. Brian ran to the bathroom and vomited.
His son was dead. His wife kicked him out. He had no friends, and no purpose in life. Rory was his purpose. And Rory was gone.
On day 944, a man was seen atop the Stadium House office building, clutching a small green book in his hands. Bystanders called authorities and attempted to talk him off the ledge, but all failed. At 7:34 AM on day 944, Brian Adams Williams ended his own life out of grief. No items were found on his person, other than the book he was seen holding. There was no note. Only an annotation in the afterward.
"I'm coming to see you."
A small funeral procession was held on the outskirts of Cardiff. The day was overcast and rainy, as if Wales itself was weeping for Brian. No one showed up except the priest and an old man in a knit hat.
After the service ended, the old man turned around to see something he never thought he would see again.
"Doctor!" He shouted as he ran across the graveyard to the blue box that had appeared on the other side of the street.
He ran as fast as his brittle body would allow him to. He had to reach it. He had to see the Doctor one last time, to say goodbye. The old man was too weak; he stopped in the grass to catch his breath. As he looked up, he saw the blue police box slowly fade away, into all of space and time. Wilfred Mott collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, clutching his chest feeling torn and broken.
"Doctor...I need a doctor."
After he collapsed at the cemetery, the priest from the funeral home called an ambulance, but it was too late.
On day 946, at 12:34 PM, Wilfred Mott passed away at the Cardiff Royal Infirmary from a heart attack.
His funeral was full of those who loved him. Everyone was there, all his friends and family. Donna, Sylvia, even the cranky old man from the retirement home who kept beating Wilfred in bingo. The strange little blue police box even paid him a visit.
Written by Jack (Sporadicfeelings on Tumblr)
Editing and afterword by Lucy (Oneorangeshoelace on Tumblr)