The TARDIS jerked under the Doctors grip. His hands flew off of the console as the switches flicked on their own, levers pressed themselves and a couple of doo-dads went ping.
"Oi!" the Doctor shouted in exasperation. He grabbed hold of one of the controls and pulled. It didn't budge. "Oh come on!" He kicked the bottom of the console lightly. The TARDIS lurched sideways and the Doctor found his face pressed to the floor.
He frowned against the glass. That was a bit extreme, just for a nudge. His eyes flickered upwards as the centre pulsed with light. She was definitely taking him somewhere, and she wasn't letting him stop her. He pushed himself up onto his elbows.
"All right." He patted the offended section better. "I didn't mean it."
Lights flashed, bits and bobs whirred and the typewriter clacked as she drove him towards where ever it was they were going. The Doctor eyed her wearily.
"This isn't about Alpha Centauri again, is it?" She didn't give any real response. In a few seconds, she'd stopped completely.
"Okay." He stood up and rubbed his hands together. "All of time and space, and something around here needs a Doctor. Let's see what you've got for me this time." He fixed a smile on his face, strode to the door and stepped outside.
He was inside, eyes wide and leaning against the door to keep it shut within three seconds.
"Oh please." He said softly, maybe he was even begging. "Please not this." The TARDIS hummed softly and persistently in his ear. "Not now, I'll do it later, I promise I will, but I can't do it now, please!"
The buzz in his ear got louder and he swept a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes.
"Of course. Me and my promises. Silly old Doctor."
He stepped out into the sunshine, blinking as it dazzled him through the trees. Along the path through the park was a road, and he took it. Down the road was a house, and he saw it. Knocking at the door to that house was a man, and the Doctor nearly turned again and ran.
He'd not have gotten far, because Brain Williams chose that moment to turn around, and spotted him. How could he not? How many men in bow ties are there in Leadworth at midday on a Saturday are there? Well, technically there were five, but four of those were staggering home after a night of pub golf, horribly hungover, but that wasn't really the issue.
"Doctor! I was just knocking in case Amy and Rory had come back before I got there – don't worry, I've got a key. I take it they're in the TARDIS? I hope they didn't send you to water the plants."
He held a watering can, a smile on his face, but there were gritted teeth underneath. The Doctor held Brian's gaze, his mind whirling for the words to tell the man in front of him he'd never see his son and daughter in law again. Brian was the first to look away, taking a deep breath and unlocking the door.
"I'll be making tea when I get in." He said, looking into the hallway, at his shoes and inside the watering can. "Do you have milk or sugar?"
"Brian," The Doctor began.
"Black then." Brian said, stepping inside and leaving the door open behind him. "Splendid."
The Doctor poured milk into his too black tea. Brian was staring now at a soggy looking Marigold.
"I expect Rory and Amy have some more great stories to tell me by now," Brain said stiffly.
"They've had some wonderful adventures." The Doctor answered.
"Oh. Good." There was a fern in the corner that he'd watered three times already, but to Brain it still looked a bit peaky.
"Brian,"
"I'm sure I'll get intergalactic postcards or some such, if there is such a thing-"
"Brian."
"Because they don't call anymore-"
"Brian,"
"But that's fine," he continued. "Because I know they're fine because you promised me they would be." The watering can crashed to the floor. "But you've said my name three times. Don't say that. Say about how you promised me they'd be alright. That nothing could happen; not to them, not Amy and Rory. Tell me they're fine!"
Water dripped from the spout of the can, a steady plip sound on an underused lino floor.
"We were in New York. Something happened, something we couldn't stop. I lost them," said the Doctor.
For the second time that day, he got well acquainted with the floor.
The Doctor blinked a few times, and tried to stop the world from being all swirly. From what he could tell, he was led on a sofa.
"I wouldn't move much." He heard from the air above him. "I didn't hit you all that hard, but you hit the end of the table on your way down. You've got a pretty nasty bump on your head."
"Bumpy looking head?" The Doctor grumbled.
"Yes, one of those too." Brian rubbed a hand over his eyes. "But no lasting damage. I learned enough from my son to be able to tell that."
"I'm sorry, Brian, I am so sorry." The Doctor sat up, the dizziness subsiding.
"I don't care," Brian said simply. "You be sorry all you want. The only family I've got left are gone forever. There will never be enough sorry for you to fix that Doctor."
"They didn't die Brian. Well, they are dead, but they lived long lives, they loved each other and they were happy. They told me that, they left me something," he pulled out a torn page from his pocket. "It was meant for me, but you – you should know-" Brian took the page from his hand. His hands shook as he read it.
"This is it? This is the last thing? This is all there is?" He read the lines again. "I get to know they lived well and were very happy, but that's all?" The paper crumpled in his hand and the Doctor jumped up, his hand reaching out for it. Brian held it out to him. "I don't want this. It's not enough." The Doctor took it back and smoothed it out carefully.
"There's nothing I can do. I can't go back for them, I can't ever see them again," The Doctor stared down at the page. "This has be enough because you're right; this is all that's left." Brian didn't move. "I'm sorry."
"Stop it."
"But there's nothing else I can say."
"Just stop it!" Brian sank into an armchair and held his head in his hands. "Why can't you go back for them?"
"It's a fixed point in time. Taking them out of it could tear a hole in time and space and then it wouldn't just be Amy and Rory that would be gone, everything would. They have lived and died, and that's what happened to them, and it's the only thing that can happen to them." The page was returned to its pocket, sealed away and gone.
"Doctor."
"Yes,"
"You can't bring them back,"
"No,"
"You can't ever see them again."
"No."
"But I can," Brian said. The Doctor stared at him.
"If you go to New York, you won't find them. They won't be there." Brian jumped up.
"No. They won't be. But if you take me to the past, just put me on a train, or a bus, whenever they are – I can go to them." He started pacing. "You said it's a fixed point in time, so you know when they are and where they are; just put me as close as you can to it and I'll do the rest." He turned and faced the mad man with a box. "You can do that." He didn't ask.
"Yes, I can. You know what that means though," The Doctor said cautiously. "You'll go there and because part of events, part of the fixed point. You'll never be able to come back here. Any friends you have, you'll never see them again, nor any other family. You'll have them back, and only them. No technology either, no access to money, no identification. It'll be hard."
Brian smiled and dug in his pocket. He pulled something out and put it on the mantelpiece.
"I'm quite prepared. I'll be fine." With that he dashed from the room and thumped up the stairs.
The Doctor smiled, stepped forward and picked up the trowel.
"Brian Williams," he said. "The Man Who Couldn't Wait."
The TARDIS jumped and creaked, buzzing happily in his ear.
"Yes, fine, you were right," He sighed. He stepped over a piece of luggage and hit a flashing button on the other side of the console, then adjusted a knob and twisted a wheel until it went clank.
"Any idea how close you'll be able to get me?" Brian asked, sat on a pile of suitcases.
"Not really. I can get you into the right decade, although if the old girl is feeling charitable she can put you right down in Manhattan." He stroked a circuit board tenderly. "She seems to like you, so she'll probably play nice."
There was a thump and a thud and a judder and a thunk as the TARDIS landed with its usual grace.
"Right! New York, circa 1930." He opened the door and stepped out, glancing around. Foot traffic milled around, not noticing the bright blue box that had settled into the background of the scene. The Doctor trotted towards a newspaper stand and glanced at the date. "1938 to be exact." He went back to the TARDIS and peered inside. Brian was stacking as many cases as he could onto a small trolley. "Did you really need all that luggage?" he sniffed. Brian nodded wisely.
"It is unwise to part a lady from her wardrobe, especially if that lady is Amelia Pond." He replied. He wheeled past the Doctor and out onto the street. "Now, where was it again I'm supposed to be going?"
"Ah," The Doctor dug around in his pocket and pulled out the last page. At the bottom in small letters was written the date of printing, and the office of the publisher. "The address is someone's home office," he said. "This book hasn't been printed yet, but the place it came from exists. They did it from their own home." Brian smiled and took a deep breath.
"That's where I'm heading then." He looked around, trying to spot the house.
"We're a few streets over." The Doctor said. "So you've got a little way to go. You'll find them three blocks to the left, fourth building down, in apartment 117."
"Is that so they wouldn't know you were here?"
"Is what?" The Doctor shot back.
"Dropping me here instead of outside their front door." Brian said bluntly. The Doctor nodded, his mouth set in a thin line.
"Yes. It's like I said. I can never see them again. I can't do it, because if I saw them, I wouldn't be able to stop myself. I burned up a sun once before to say goodbye to someone. This time, because it's them... All of time and space, the great big universe – I'd tear it apart if it meant I could take them on another adventure. And I can't." He hung his head.
"I'm sorry,"
The Doctor smiled thinly.
"I know."
There wasn't much more to say. They said goodbye, Brian pushed his overfull trolley down the street trying as hard as he could not to run and failing, losing one bag in the process and disappearing around the corner. The Doctor watched after him for a while, some selfish part of him wanting to see all three of them come back, call his name, hug him, invite him home for dinner - maybe he'd grab their hands and tell them to run and they'd escape somehow, find a way to keep being brilliant.
He could have stood there forever to wait for them. He stood there for five minutes, looking at the corner, until someone barged into him.
"Hey buddy, you wanna stand somewhere less in the way, you're blockin' the sidewalk!" The Doctor blinked, the moment was gone and he made his lonely way back to the TARDIS.
Its hum greeted him, welcoming and kind. He smiled. Standing once more at the console, his hand rested on the lever that would send him on his way again.
"So long, Ponds."
The finale hit me in all my many feels. If it hit your feels too, or you'd just like to review, that'd be fantastic.