He had suffered many times throughout his life. He had hurt, lost, grieved and mourned for dozens of millennia. He was older now than any rusted artefacts, gathering dust in a museum. There were days, hundreds of them, when he'd thought that all was lost; it was surely the end now. For how much longer could he evade Death's unforgiving clutches? He'd had guns aimed at him, lasers illuminating his face with an animalistic hiss and sonic hydraulic blasters pointed at him like swords. He'd lost many, too many, whether to the ugly face of War or the less ugly, but equally as final, Nature. He'd set cities ablaze with hope and promise and then destroyed them to ruins in one fluid motion. He'd been on the brink of success on so many occasions that with each failure and mistake the gorge that had formed in his chest got deeper and deeper. His shoulders carried the weight of hundreds of galaxies but he welcomed it, deserved it even. But today, out of all of his 907, today was the worst of his life.
They were ambushed as soon as they had walked five feet from the comforting and reassuring blue of the TARDIS. He had scanned the planet, naturally, before he even considered letting her bound out the door into the unknown and it had come up clear. Had he been too careless? Made a mistake? Just another to add to the infinite list then. Shouts as loud as gun shots reverberated around the little cave they had landed in but it was soon obvious that they weren't as loud as gun shots. They were gun shots. Fear and instinct worked simultaneously in that moment and he had flung himself blindly into the general direction of her flaming hair. Fear not for himself, of course not, but for her. His Amelia. His mad, impossible, Amelia Pond who was never really his at all. He felt Rory, fantastic, funny, gorgeous Rory, shift beside him but there was no rivalry today as they both worked together to protect what they both loved the most. The shouting and the shots still drummed on in a cacophony of sound that churned his stomach. He didn't look up at his attackers because he didn't care; the only thing that mattered was her. He crashed into her then and they were a blur of limbs and screams as he struggled against her flailing limbs and pushed her into a corner, Rory doing much the same, He heard bullets whiz past his ear and felt the air stir around him as his hair was blown into his face. He was amazed that no-one had been hit as the bullets were pelting towards them at a furious pace. Amy halted her struggling and allowed them to secure her behind the two of them. He stood in front of Amy with his arms stretched out across her, protecting her as he always would. Rory stood just behind him so that he was still sheathed in the protection of his arm but still obscuring Amy from view. The two rivals, although rivals for no reason; he had lost afterall, uniting forces on common ground. Amy needed to be safe. That was the main priority here and the two men knew that without so much as a word.
"We mean you no harm. Lower your weapons." His voice was thunder, bubbling with rage as he addressed their attackers.
They were brutish and huge, almost 7 feet tall, and each had callous, leathery skin the colour of blood. And each held a futuristic gun in their arms and each glared at them through slit-like eyes, snarling with mouths that hid teeth like razors.
How had he led them, her, here?
The monsters, no other word for them really, did not surrender and he didn't move his arms from their protective stance across Amy. He obviously held no weapons but the aliens didn't seem to care. They had invaded their planet and they would face the punishment. Politics.
He tried again, desperation tingeing his voice as he tried to croak out a surrender.
"We mean you no harm. Little bit of an accident, nothing really. Planned to go to Beach Florida yet here we are. Just a simple mistake isn't that right?" he tried to lighten the atmosphere which could be cut with a knife and nudged Rory to agree.
They both spluttered excuses and apologies and promises of neutralism while shielding Amy from the accusing stares of their enemy. The tallest one, obviously the leader, made a gruff sound in the back of its throat that sounded like an engine stalling. He knew it had understood; the TARDIS wasn't that far away and her translating system was perfectly intact. He waited, body tense and prepared for flight, as he pressed his back instinctively against Amy.
Slowly, the barrels of the guns and shine of the lasers were lowered until they were no longer face to face with death. He allowed himself to relax. That was a mistake. The leader strode forward and eyed him suspiciously. Its face was not a friendly one as it growled through the vicious rows of teeth and appraised the three intruders. Its comrades fell back with a flick of the hand and he began to smile, put on a happy façade as he did everyday. It was easy to play the charade. Too easy. That had been a mistake too. He spoke to the leader and learned his name; Torontu, and gathered information about where they were. Without noticing, he had gradually moved away from Amy so that she was no longer flush against him and felt an odd sense of panic rush through him. Rory was standing still as a statue, except for his fingers which twitched longingly towards Amy whom he didn't reach for out of fear of making sudden movements.
The air was tight and claustrophobic as the three companions held their breath. He opened his mouth to declare their departure when he saw the inconspicuous, slight nod of the head from Torontu to another beast. If he were blinking he would have missed it and it was clear that Rory and Amy had. A sound like a whip cracked throughout the large cave so that its sound resonated around them. Suddenly red was all that he could see as one of the beasts crashed into him and he fell, unprepared for the attack as he was. He was pinned beneath the alien, its weight crushing him, and his back was digging uncomfortably into the jagged rock floor beneath him. None of that mattered however as he yelled her name so loudly that he was sure he had damaged some vocal chords. He heard shouting and screaming although both were decidedly gruff and bass. These belonged to the beasts and he could just make out Rory's tenor cry filtering above the carnage.
Amy made no noise.
He knew who they were of course, knew that their race had a violent and bloody history and that only fools, fools with a death-wish, crossed their path. He would have let the beast astride him rip him to shreds right there and then for leading them into such danger. He would have gone without a fight, if not for her. He couldn't locate her familiar, husky, oh so Scottish voice anywhere, but if there was even the slightest chance that she was in danger then he would be there to rescue her. His Amelia Pond, no more his than the day he first met her but whom he would protect with his life.
"Amy!" he roared her name trying in desperation to let his cry be heard above the guttural growls of the beasts around him. He could hear Rory doing the same from wherever it was that he was trapped.
He tried to kick the beast off him, straining and struggling under his weight like a fish on the deck. It didn't move in the slightest. He still couldn't hear Amy anywhere and his cries became more desperate. Determination swirled inside him like hot lava until it boiled to the surface in a matter of seconds. He twisted his legs so that his right leg was positioned between the two of his captor. With an almighty surge of force he pulled his leg up and brought his knee into the chest of the beast who screeched and rolled of him. He was on his feet in no time, eyes worried and darting around the room. He was surrounded by four, maybe five of the monsters, and he could see Rory pinned against the opposite wall with two monsters breathing down his neck. And although he was surrounded by red, he couldn't see the red he was searching for. Blood red clouded his eyes wherever he looked as he searched frantically for the familiar red of a burning sun. But it was nowhere to be found. Despair racked through his body until he thought he would collapse with the pain.
Then he heard it.
A soft, whimpering cry almost like a kitten, so faint that it was a struggle for even his hears to pick up. His eyes darted towards the ground and he saw her, finally, curled into a ball in a corner.
My Amelia Pond. My smart, magnificent, brilliant, Amy. Joy and pride swept over him as he realised her tactic. She had made herself as small as humanly possible and was hidden on the ground among the mess of feet and roars around her, no beast smart enough to check the floor.
He saw why immediately. The feet of the beasts were huge, like elephant's feet. One blow would surely kill Amy and she was surrounded by them, like a stampede trapping her into the corner.
He got down on his hands and knees then, a tricky task without drawing attention, and crawled his way over to her at an unbearably slow pace. He found her and he let his fingertips trace her cheek as she turned a tear-stained face towards him. The tear in his chest suddenly felt very much like a canyon as he looked at the pain he had caused her. Again. Her face was bruised, probably from the fall, and there was blood staining her ivory skin like some grotesque tattoo from where she wasn't lucky enough to escape the monsters' feet.
"Amy." He breathed her name and she reached out for him as he reached out for her, working in perfect sync with each other as always.
With a screech that would haunt his nightmares until his dying day, and perhaps after then too, he saw her flaming hair fly away from his reach as she was hauled up. So close to being his and so brutally snatched away. As always.
Panic. Sheer panic. He roared her name but it was no use; he would never be heard over the booming shouts of the beasts as Amy was handed over to Torontu. He was hauled to his feet by his bowtie and locked into an iron, vice-like grip by one of the blood-beasts. His eyes met a pair as desperate as his own as he saw that Rory too was being held by a beast so tight it looked like he couldn't possibly have enough oxygen.
But fantastic, funny, gorgeous Rory's eyes were not the ones he yearned for. His gaze was panicked as his eyes roved over nightmarish faces until they found their goal. He locked his gaze to hers and saw tears brimming over her lids. For the amount of time he stared at Amy, and stared into her eyes, he couldn't decipher their colour. They were hazel with little flecks of moss around the pupil but they were green too, with a ring of olive around the pupil. He was lost in them, as he always was, but this time her eyes brought with them an ache rather than a comfort. Her eyes always meant the same to him; safety, belief, trust. She saw him like no-one else and she accepted him. Those eyes could see into his very soul and take the battered, broken pieces of an eternity of pain and make them whole again.
No comfort this time though, only pain. He recognised the familiar ambiguous shade and the almond shape that was framed by a brush of inky lashes. But they held no certainty for him, no reassurance, because they were red-rimmed and glazed. Tears poured from them at an alarming rate and he wondered how hurt she really was. They were brimming with fear, panic, desperation and a plea. A plea to him.
Save me. Save me, Doctor.
He tried his very best. Rory was roaring her name so loudly that it earned him a blow to the head and gut. He continued with his screaming, either unaware or uncaring to the pain.
He struggled relentlessly against his captor's death grip. If only he could get a hold on his sonic then maybe he could fix this. He shoved his shoulder into the beast's chest, he smashed his foot against his instep and he bit the muscles and tendons in the arm that held him, all to no avail. So he did the only thing he could think of then.
He joined Rory in his chorus of cries.
Amy, Amy, Amy.
"Silence." Torontu held Amy so therefore he was obeyed. He and Rory shut up abruptly and stared with pure hatred towards the leader. He held Amy close to his chest, his grip leaving bruises on her pale arms already and causing her to choke on the air. Or lack of.
"You have trespassed on our land. On our planet." The beasts surrounding him jeered.
"You landed your ship here without any permission and disturbed planet life. You bring these humans with you, Timelord. Humans. How could you be so stupid?"
He asked himself the same question, forming a disgusted mantra in his head.
"Consequences ensue, of course." He turned his head to sneer at him and Rory. "You both love the girl, that much is obvious. You scuttled to protect her in seconds. Bad move, Timelord. Why present to us our leverage? Why give us your weak-spot?"
He had never thought that his love would be the death sentence over Amy's head. He thought his love protected her. He was wrong.
"Torontu, let's be reasonable." He began, voice wavering too much to be truthful.
"Ha. I am no human, Timelord. I am not a fool. You cannot trick me with your promises that you will never keep. I am in charge here."
He realised that everyone was standing in a circle around Torontu and Amy, eyes unblinking and filled with bloodlust.
"Get off my wife! Leave her alone!" Rory struggled feebly against his restraints and received another blow to the chest.
Amy cried out his name and tried to struggle from Torontu's grip but anyone could see that it was useless. She was like a porcelain doll in his arms, one touch away from shattering.
"You will pay for coming here, Timelord. You will pay." He drew his huge mallet of a hand back and slapped Amy so hard that her head cracked to the side and she spat blood.
Rory roared obscenities and he roared too. Roared for the pain he was causing. Roared for the torture he had brought on. Roared for the love he could not have.
"Get off her! Torontu, listen to me. You have no idea, no idea how powerful I am. You hurt her, you lay even a finger on her again and you will find out."
"Doctor, be sensible. What are you going to do? Shoot laser with that bowtie of yours?"
Laughter erupted throughout the cave, too dark and guttural to be friendly. Amy turned and bit down hard on the hand that was on her shoulder.
That's my girl.
Torontu yelled and slapped Amy again, harder this time so that she fell unconscious.
Rory's screams were incoherent by now and his weren't far from it. He had never felt anger like this before. Never in his 907 years. And never had he felt pain like it either.
"Come now, Sweetheart. Wake up. Don't want to miss the big show do we? You're the star afterall." Torontu slapped Amy awake and sneered down at her.
He addressed him as though Rory weren't even there.
"You love her." His eyes locked with hers once again. Of course he loved her. He lived for her. But right now he couldn't love her unless he wanted to lose her. Forever.
"I don't." His voice was firm and unwavering. He wasn't going to let Amy die because of him. He always knew that he shouldn't love her, that impossible ball of ginger wit, but he never thought that his love would lead to life or death. If anything proved that his adoration for her was doomed, it was this.
He tore his eyes form hers. He didn't look back at her; he couldn't, so he watched Torontu with eyes like lightning.
"You lie, Timelord." He laughed and pulled Amy's head back by her precious orange halo, placing his gun to her temple.
He tried desperately to appear unfazed, or as fazed as a neutral friend should be, but he wasn't capable of that. Obviously. He squirmed in his iron cage and exploded out a chorus of "no's", with Rory following suit.
He was absolutely terrified. Petrified even. Amy stood before him, teetering on the edge of death, and he couldn't do anything to save her.
He knew he had given himself away and he hated himself for it. He couldn't let Amy become another straw on his back because she would be the one to break it.
So he begged. He pleaded and made absurd promises, he offered himself and urged a compromise until he was breathless.
"Enough." Torontu's voice echoed throughout the damp cave and silence fell. Rory was being muffled by a huge, bin-lid hand.
"You will watch this, Doctor, and you will know what happens when you dare come here, bringing your filth with you." The boisterous crowd jeered and some even spat on the floor in disgust.
He didn't fight. He didn't scream or shout and he didn't attempt an escape. He knew it was too late, always too late. Instead, he gazed into her eyes; so full of fear and terror, and tried to tell her that yes, he did love her. Wasn't it obvious? That he was sorry. So, so sorry. And that he didn't deserve her. She wasn't his anyway. She's mad, impossible and beautiful and oh so brave and he loves her. Of course he did. He lived for her.
He thought she could see it in the way his face was constricted with the pain and sadness of it all and in the way his eyes were brimming with unshed tears as they bored into hers.
She stopped crying. She didn't fight. She looked at Rory and he could see that she had accepted her fate. Rory hadn't though and he struggled even harder against his captor.
She turned back to him and he was so proud.
My brave Amelia Pond.
Her eyes, so indefinable and so amazing, were set and alight with courage. Her hands didn't shake, but his did. She didn't cry, but he did.
The click of the gun stabbed the air and he could feel himself breaking down. He watched in horror as blood cascaded across the cave wall and watched in muted despair, utter despair, as a halo of burnt orange tumbled to the floor.
He had to get them out of there. There would be time later for grieving. Too much time. A weary, old Timelord with too much time to mourn. But for now he had to focus on getting them out of that hellhole. He couldn't leave Amy's body there. He wouldn't. And he had to get Rory to safety too. That's what she would have wanted anyway. Always Rory.
His captor's grip had loosened around him in the blaze of battle and he snaked an arm into his jacket and clutched for his sonic. He felt its familiar weight in his hand and slung his arm upward, exacting a frequency.
The damp cave ceiling began to crumble with an almighty roar, and shreds of debris cascaded down on them like bombs. Amidst all the confusion and panic, he raced for Rory who was crouched over Amy's body. Of course he was; he was always there to protect her. She never really need him at all; she had Rory, He hauled him to his feet and with a quick "run" they were sprinting for the comforting blue of the TARDIS, Amy a dead weight between them.
Somehow, they made back to home's safe cocoon of light and warmth. Ironic really because there was no light anymore. No warmth. Not for him. Rory refused to speak to him and he couldn't blame him. He sat on the console floor with Amy cradled in his lap as his tears rained down on her pale face. He murmured to her and planted kisses on her icy hands.
You couldn't save her. You save everybody, you always do, but you couldn't save the one you cared about the most.
He joined Rory on the floor and brushed strands of fire from her white face. Fire and ice. His tears were infinite, surely, and they splashed onto her face like tiny wanted to hug her, just to hold her in his arms one more time, but no, Rory had that covered. She was his and he was hers after all. So instead, he leant low and pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, lingering longer than he should. He closed his eyes and let his forehead fall onto hers. He breathed her in; he could still smell her shampoo clinging to her hair, her perfume lingering on her bloody clothes. He took a shaky breath.
"Amelia Pond." His voice caught in his throat and he wiped away fresh tears. He reached down and took her limp hand in his own. It fit perfectly, of course it did. He squeezed it tight.
"Gotcha."
He had suffered many times throughout his life. He had hurt, lost, grieved and mourned for dozens of millennia. But today, out of all of his 907, today was the worst of his life. Today was the day that he lost his Amy. His Amelia Pond, who wasn't ever his at all.