This is my very first Doctor Who story so don't hesitate to let me know if I get something wrong. If at the end of this I have a better understanding, I'll do a rewrite. I love reviews but I won't beg for them, I just hope that everyone enjoys the madness that's been building in my not-quite-right mind. This takes place a week after the season five finale, but at this time I have no other real direction whatsoever and am just letting my imagination lead the way. Come with me, won't you?
I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.
Throughout the night the steady hum of the TARDIS was what Amy came to find her sole comfort in. She lay still, her lithe form curled into the fetal position as she tried to drift off into unconsciousness. Nothing could ease her, however, not even that mechanic purr she'd come to love so much. The sound that meant home, that one place in all the cosmos that her dreams of faraway worlds and brilliant aliens weren't something to be scoffed at, but explored and nurtured. And they were, so much so Amy thought, closing her eyes tighter as she tried feebly to force herself to sleep. At last, though, the tears she'd tried so hard to withhold finally gave way, quietly slipping down across her cheek before her pillow caught them.
She bit her bottom lip, using every bit of strength she had to keep herself from quaking with sobs. She couldn't wake Rory now, not after the day they'd had. She just needed to sleep and perhaps in the morning everything would be as it ought to, she lied to herself. Things would never be as they ought to be, they would never be good or right again. Besides, she reasoned, when would morning be? Days seemed to run together inside the TARDIS lately, the only punctuations coming at meal times and the sporadic bouts of sleep she managed. She didn't need to sleep, only wait for everyone else to wake up. Then technically, regardless of what time it was, it would be a new day. New start.
Time was strange in that way and, depending on how you looked a it, it could be a blessing or a curse. Amy could remember when there never seemed to be enough time in the day, never enough time with her Doctor. No amount of running, fighting, dramatics or danger could have changed that. As of late, however, that had all changed. What she was sure had only been a week already felt like years and should have only felt like moments, considering her newlywed status.
Newlywed. The phrase stopped her self-destructing thought pattern for a moment as she felt her stomach clench. By all accounts, this was supposed to be the happiest time of her life, and even more so considering the unique journey that that life was on. Any normal woman would think it enough, more than enough, in fact. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out, however, that Amelia Jessica Pond was not any normal woman. No. It took a daft but brilliant old man to see it: her raggedy Doctor. Her imperfect, hyperactive, silly, gorgeous Doctor.
Rory's breathing had finally steadied beside her, indicating he had finally slipped into a deep sleep as Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly and quietly she slipped out of bed, every muscle tensed so as not to wake her husband. As she reached out to grasp the doorknob, the TARDIS gave a slight lurch and she held in a gasp. They'd landed somewhere, which meant the Doctor was awake, she realized as she opened the door and checked both ends of the corridor. With no sign of him, she stepped out into the long hall and began to make her way towards the library. She could think there, and she knew why.
She strolled through the halls that led to her destination, not quite lingering but not exactly hurried as she raised her arms and ran her slender fingertips along the copper and gold tinged walls. Something calmed her when she did it, almost as if she could feel something hush away her worries and promise that someday, though she couldn't know when, everything would be alright. Perhaps it was the TARDIS's way of communicating since they were, after all, linked in a way now. Amy wondered if that meant the TARDIS could feel her pain, and if so, since the Doctor was also linked to it, could he?
Coming upon the large door of the library, she opened it quietly and stepped into the massive room, greeted by the smell of dusty old books as she smiled weakly. It was the first time she had smiled in awhile, genuinely at least. Collapsing onto the rich brown leather sofa, she turned her head into the decorative pillows that adorned it and inhaled deeply. This, this was her safe place. There were no tears here; only smiles, hugs and reassuring kisses. Curling up once more as she felt the leather begin to absorb her body's warmth, Amy took one last deep breath and tried her best to hold back the sobs that threatened to shake her. There were no tears here.