A/N: I was thinking…the Doctor fixes all of his companions phones so they can call anyone, anytime, right? So then I was wondering…why shouldn't Amy be allowed to call the Doctor from New York?
The Doctor's phone was ringing. He looked at the console questioningly. People rarely called him – unless it was some sort of emergency. What was it this time? The Doctor had planned on a relaxing day, but he supposed that some action wouldn't hurt anything.
"Hello," he said, picking up the receiver.
"Hi," came the voice on the other side, distant and shaking with trepidation.
The Doctor's muscles went slack, his lips parting, his hearts' rate quickening. It was just one word, but he recognized the voice instantly. The shock had seemed to turn off his ability to feel anything. He had even forgotten to breathe.
"…Doctor? Are you still there? You are, aren't you?"
The Doctor leaned against the console to steady himself. His grip on the receiver had relaxed, and he held it up to his ear once more. "Y-yes. Sorry," he responded. How could this be?
"You probably didn't expect to get this call," Amy said. She was doing a good job at keeping her voice calm, but he could detect her anxiety and excitement over getting to speak with him. "I-I'm sorry, I just…when I found out I might have a chance to talk to you, I had to… I forget that my phone was in my jacket pocket, the one that I was wearing the day that I…"
The Doctor hadn't considered the possibility either. His old companions never called him, even though they all still could. He gave them all the number – in case of emergencies, he said, but he had always secretly hoped that they would try to keep in touch. But they all seemed to move on. In a way, this made sense – Amy was different than others. If any of them were to contact him again, it would be her. "And you just now found it again, didn't you?" he asked.
"Yeah, I did. Rory and I had to get all new clothes, of course, so I hadn't touched that jacket in a while. I wasn't even sure the phone would still work in this time period. But you were right, still functional anywhere in time or space." She laughed softly, and he wished that he could see her smile.
"I wouldn't lie to you about something like that, Pond," the Doctor, beginning to feel more comfortable. At first, he hadn't been sure if this phone call was a good idea. He already missed Amy enough without having to actually hear her. But maybe if he could just have a casual conversation with her, he could take an edge off the pain.
She laughed again, and the Doctor was pretty sure she was crying. "Amy, are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah – yeah," she said. She took a deep breath. "I just never thought I'd hear your voice again. And after the culture shock I've been through these past few weeks…" She laughed. "Doctor, I'm more than alright. This is the best I've felt since I got here."
The Doctor smiled. "Best I've felt since you've left," he admitted. He had been trying to keep himself busy, visiting places he hadn't been to in a while, but it was to no avail. No matter where he went, he felt empty. Whenever he got particularly lonely, he would think of going to pick up Amy and Rory, and then he would remember, with a pang in his chest, that that wasn't an option anymore.
"You're alone, aren't you?" she asked quietly.
The Doctor froze, feeling guilty and thinking of the letter that she hadn't written yet. "It hasn't been very long, Amy. You're not exactly easy to replace."
"Don't be alone for too long, Doctor," she said, her voice strong again. "If not for yourself, then for me. I don't want you to be alone."
"Alright," the Doctor agreed after a few moments of silence, simply because he did not want to talk about it any longer. The idea of travelling with anyone but Amy and Rory felt beyond wrong, and he wasn't ready to think about it yet.
"There's no chance of us seeing each other again, is there?" Amy asked. He knew that question was coming, as much as he wished it wasn't.
"Amy, I saw your name on the gravestone," he said, a chill coming over him. He felt sick whenever he thought about it. "It's like when you saw Rory's name. I know that you're going to live there, in New York, your whole life. Even if the TARDIS would let me back, which I doubt she ever will, it would be impossible for me to ever see you again."
"I just needed to hear you say that, I think, before I could start moving on."
The Doctor listened keenly to the silence that followed, knowing that once again, he had made Amelia wait for him. It both comforted and pained him to know that she never would again.
"Is it alright for me to call you?" Amy asked suddenly. He was glad to hear that she sounded alright now. "I mean, it's not going to create a – a paradox or something?"
"I think it's alright," the Doctor said. "At least every once in a while."
The Doctor knew without having to be told that it made Amy feel better to have him with her. For that reason, he allowed her to tell him about what happened since she got sent back to New York, even though he knew that he probably shouldn't allow himself to know too much. He wasn't sure how many times he would able to hear her voice again, so he savored every word she said, accented with her Scottish dialect. She and Rory had found a place to live, a tiny little flat, but she said it would do for now. Amy had found a newspaper to write for, and Rory was more than qualified to work at the nearby hospital (though he was appalled by some of the old fashioned medical techniques that were in practice). They had to create new identities and backstories for themselves, and it was hard for them to fit in.
All in all, the Doctor got the impression that they would at least be able to manage, and Amy's letter helped assure of that. He just hoped that neither of them would be too miserable before they got fully settled in to their environment.
"You know you could call your parents," the Doctor said, after their conversation had winded down, "your friends. Say goodbye."
"I know," Amy said, sighing. "I thought about that, when I was dialing your number… I think I might, sometime, after I think of what to say."
"Whatever you feel is best."
"Thank you," Amy said. "Thank you for everything, Doctor. I know I…didn't have the time to say a proper goodbye when I left." The Doctor listened closely. There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much he wanted to thank her for, or apologize for. But he was so afraid of letting his true feelings show. Thankfully, they had always understood each other perfectly without having to say a word. "But you know that, well, you know that I…"
"I know," the Doctor said sadly. "I know, Amy."
Amy breathed heavily on the other end of the line. "So if we don't get to talk to each other for a while, just keep in mind that I will always miss you, and I will always love you. And that I will never cease to care about you."
"I could say the same about you, Amelia," the Doctor replied. She had summed it up perfectly.
"I should probably go," Amy said. "Rory's going to come home soon."
The Doctor wondered briefly if she would tell Rory about this, or if it would just be yet another thing that was just between the two of them. "I understand," the Doctor said. "Good luck to the both of you. You'll be okay."
"Thanks," Amy said, laughing. "God, you have no idea how happy I am that we got to talk."
"I imagine that I do." Hearing her voice again had been more than he could have ever asked for – the next best thing to seeing her in person.
"Right," Amy said, sighing with a sense of finality. "I guess this is goodbye, Doctor."
"Farewell, my sweet Amelia," the Doctor said.
"Goodbye," she said again before hanging up. There was a soft click, indicating that she was gone. The Doctor placed the phone back on the base. He reached up and let his hand rest just above his eyes. Now that she wasn't listening, he could allow himself to cry.