I do not own Doctor Who, nor am I affiliated with BBC in any way, simply bitten by the plot-bunny and decided that I liked this idea enough to see if other people did too. If this seems similar to another story you have read or heard about – I apologize, I do not intend to step on anyone's toes, simply wanted to post an idea that was nagging me. Enjoy.

"Amy, Amy, Amy, Amy… no," it seemed all he could do was hold her against his chest as he rocked back and forth on the dirty street. "Amy, no... I'm so sorry Amy; I didn't know the TARDIS would bring us back here. I didn't know. Amy, don't…. don't leave me…" His glorious, amazing, stubborn lovely Amelia Pond was dying.

The wound in her chest still bled slowly, though by the look of both their clothes – they had been slumped here for some time. His legs had long since gone cold and cramped, soaked by water from god-knows where that had amassed into a puddle in the alley that she had fallen in. The culprit was sprawled in the shadow of a large dumpster, but it seemed that the man only cared for the woman in his arms.

She had long since stopped talking to him, blinking almost serenely every few minutes, but he could tell she was faded, and with increasing speed. Her flaming hair was spread across the street behind them, mixed with both the putrid water and her own blood that puddled around them and diluted with the water.

They had been fine; strolling jovially hand in hand through the dank streets like this was perhaps the loveliest place they had visited. In a way it was, because it was Amy's home – or it had been once he supposed. They had been intending to visit the Romans again, since his Pond had made it clear that Rome was her favorite time period here on Earth. The TARDIS however, had other ideas and had deposited them here – the dark streets of a now mechanized Leadworth, Earth year 3045. She had been laughing – joking with him about the way he dressed yet again when a dark haired man had stumbled from the shadows of the alley and demanded their money. He hadn't any, and neither did she – but the man was insistent and pulled a gun – shot her before they could even blink – before he could to anything to save her.

All his years, all his traveling and he couldn't stop her from dying a mortal death – All their time together amounted to his lopsided TARDIS killing her, and nothing more. He closed his eyes and leaned over her, his boy curling around her form – still slumped against him. She was colder now, and her breathing was slow and shallow. Her lips moved, but the voice was too quiet for him to hear. He cried over her – only after deciding that she was too far gone to really know. She would never know just how much he cared for her – just how much he'd loved their time together. He himself hadn't realized it, until about twenty minutes ago. She was his eleventh true companion, and not the only one he had loved – but the one he loved the most. This love was tumultuous and fiery just like his Amelia Pond. He supposed he shouldn't call her that though, because she wasn't his and no rightly wouldn't be.

His eyes continued to leak, tears rolling down over his nose, and dropping off his lips onto her pale neck. She hadn't stopped trying to talk – but it seemed like the end now and her eyes drifted closed. He called her name once more, a forlorn sound that told of just how much he had loved her – even if he had only just realized such a thing. He curled tighter over her, lips brushing her forehead and the edge of her coppery hair, and then her eyelids – and finally the softest touch against her lips. "Amy. Oh, my Amelia Pond... What will I do without you now?"

His eyes closed – and his two hearts felt as if they were being shredded from the inside out – tears fell freely now, unburdened by the thought that if she could see him she would be giggling at him like a five year old. She wouldn't – couldn't ever see him again. He let himself be overcome with emotion, things that he as a Time Lord rarely allowed himself to do. He was objective; he cared for the human race in a sort of fatherly sense – but nothing more. He cared for the TARDIS, after all she was his lovely box and he was her thief. He cared for the Universe, perhaps more so than he cared for the humans. Except of course, the dead woman in his arms. He cared for her most of all. He was so overcome in fact, he failed to notice the shimmering gold dust that began to almost 'ooze' from Amy's slightly open mouth, or how her skin seemed to glow faintly, or how her body was no longer cold to his touch..

He was too busy grieving over the death of the now returning-to-life woman who still lay slumped in his lap.

AN:/: Well this is WANLAF here, writing to you on my very first actually published story. It is not the first that I have written, but perhaps the first that I felt well enough about to post online for the universe to see. I hope I attract some interesting customers, maybe even a few Daleks. Anyway – I'd first like to thank you for reading, and say that I hope you decide to stick with me through this. Also – While this is my first fanfiction, do not feel obligated to be gentle with me if you do decide to review. I like honesty.

~ With A Name Like A Fairytale