It was so straightforward, he couldn't believe that he hadn't realized it before. Then again, they were talking about him here -who were 'they' in the first place?- and of course he wouldn't see the obvious, staring him in the face. When did he ever?
He had been on his own for a while. Maybe a year or so, it was difficult to tell. It was always a bit difficult to tell when you traveled in the TARDIS. They had landed -by 'they', this time, he meant the two of them, himself and the TARDIS- in a city in New York, a place called Smithtown. Nothing really interesting there, no alien invasions or anything to run from. Judging from the look of the newspapers everywhere, he judged it to be the early 1940s. A closer inspection told him it was October 1st, 1941.
Despite himself, he wondered how long it had been for the Ponds. He supposed that they were calling themselves the Williams family, now, judging by the afterword he still kept in his inside pocket, tucked away over his hearts along with Amy's reading glasses and a medkit of Rory's he found sitting on the console. The thought of his friends still made him sad, even after all this time.
One would think I'd be used to it by now, he thought, his mood growing darker as the wind blew around the bench he was sitting on. The heartbreak, always twice over. One would think I would stop myself from getting attached.
A distant shout made him look up. A young man, maybe in his twenties, was running full tilt. The Doctor tensed slightly before he realized that the man was rushing towards a bus stop, practically diving into the vehicle which was waiting for any stragglers, doors open.
Humans and buses. I never liked buses, people never seem to like me when I'm on a bus. The word isn't even interesting! Just bus. Bus, bus, bus...
Bus!
His eyes widened slightly, and he resisted the urge to smack himself repeatedly over the head.
"Stupid Doctor," he mumbled, gaining a couple of odd looks from passerby, but ignored for the most part. "Stupid, stupid, stupid Doctor."
He couldn't save them, not after reading that gravestone -that was another word he hated- but at least he could give a proper goodbye.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Amy Williams was fifty-three years old. She was a freelance journalist and a writer of science-fiction in her spare time. Granted, the sci-fi thing hadn't kicked off just yet for her, but she was slowly getting work published and making her way for herself. The journalism was a way for her to investigate, still unable to let go of her old life. It had been accepted that she and Rory were to live out their lives here, and they were quite content with that, but it still gave her a thrill to remember all those times they had.
Rory had finally become a doctor, a real, proper doctor, and had made a couple of advances in medical science on the way there. Nothing major or history-changing, but every little bit helped. The two of them had a modest, two-story house plus an attic in a somewhat quieter section of Manhattan, but still in the city. No statues anywhere nearby, and the ones that had been had been mysteriously demolished or stolen in the night.
That was one story Amy Williams never got to the bottom of. No one would ever suspect it was because she didn't try.
It was a quiet day in their quiet house. The adopted kids -two of them, one named Melody, because fate couldn't be so cruel as to not let them raise their daughter for a second time, and another named Brian, after Rory's father- were at school, and Rory was at work. His shift got out soon, or at least she hoped it did since her husband had been working the entire night, and he really deserved a break. The kids would take the school bus. Amy was typing up a story on the second World War for the op-ed section of whatever paper would take her submission when there was a knock at the door.
"Just a minute!" she called, finishing the last line on the typewriter before pushing her chair back and getting to her feet. She didn't move as quickly as she used to, she was getting on in age, after all, but she got to the door and opened it up.
"Can I help-"
Her words died in her throat. In front of her was a familiar man in tweed and a bow tie, still looking like an absolute idiot yet such a genius. He was holding a basket piled with items neatly stacked into each other. Amy saw several books and some alien gizmo resembling an egg beater before the man spoke and her attention snapped back up to his face.
"Hello, Amy Williams."
"Doctor?"
She could hardly comprehend it. He said he could never see them again, that the TARDIS couldn't land. She didn't see any sign of the blue box, but how else could he have gotten here? Again, she had to divert her attention as her Raggedy Man set down the basket and wrapped her in a bear hug. She hugged him back after realizing that this was actually real and not some dream caused from overworking herself, and patted his back as she realized he was trembling.
"I'm so sorry," he whimpered into her shoulder. Her motherly instincts kicked in and she nearly dragged him inside, leaving the basket out on the front step for the time being. The two sat down on the couch, the Doctor clinging to Amy as though he would never let go and Amy hugging him back to comfort the both of them.
"It's okay," she said gruffly, her Scottish accent still strong even after living in Leadworth for the first half of her life and America for the second. "Rory and I, we're happy here. God knows we've missed you, but we're happy." He pulled back and looked at her, tears on his cheeks, but there was pride in his ancient eyes.
"I knew you would be," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he choked back more tears. "I knew you would be happy. You have Rory, of course you'd be happy. But I was selfish. I wasn't. I wanted the two of you back in the TARDIS, and we could travel together, the three of us." She hugged him again.
"I know, I understand. That's not selfish. It's perfectly reasonable. You do so much good and the universe doesn't seem to care."
"Why? Why does everyone leave?" He sounded so broken, and Amy remembered a conversation they had back on Earth, sitting outside UNIT's underground base.
"Then why do you keep coming back for us?"
"Because you were the first. The first face this face saw. And you're seared onto my hearts, Amelia Pond. You always will be. I'm running to you, and Rory, before you fade from me."
"I don't know," she responded quietly. "But don't expect to get rid of us that easily. The Williams family. Stubborn as anything and certainly not going to let a little bit of time fluctuation get in our way."
The Doctor cracked a weak smile, and Amy nodded.
"Good, that's a bit better. Come on, I'll put the kettle on. Want some fish custard?" He wiped the tears from his face before looking at her.
"You have fish custard?" She smirked.
"It grew on us," was her simple response.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Rory yawned. This was... what, the second time in the past month the hospital had him working a 16-hour shift? They'd better pay him some good overtime...
He pushed the front door to the house open, then frowned as he heard conversation and laughter from the sitting room. They didn't have company over tonight, did they? He'd hate to miss another dinner because of work. Again.
He set his wallet down on the kitchen table next to a basket full of goods, but he was so tired that he hardly noticed it.
"Daddy!" shouted a voice, and a little boy ran forwards and hugged his legs tightly. Rory laughed and picked up his eight year-old son.
"Hello there, Bry," he said with a grin. "How was school today?"
"It was good!" he said cheerfully. "I drew a picture in art. It was of you and Mum and Mel and me in front of the Statue of Liberty!" Rory ruffled his son's hair.
"That sounds wonderful. Did Mummy hang it up on the fridge?"
"Believe it or not, she let me have the honors."
Rory stared at the man standing in the doorway, bouncing five year-old Melody Williams in his arms. The little blonde girl was giggling and tugging on the Doctor's bow tie.
"How?" he asked after a moment. Amy appeared next to him.
"Apparently, he missed the obvious yet again," she said with an eye roll. "Landed in Smithtown, about an hour's drive from here, and took the bus."
"I got you a basket," the Time Lord pointed out. "Lot's of fun stuff for you there. Figured you deserved it..."
The family -for while the Doctor may not have any blood relations to speak of, he was an honorary Williams and had the biggest family in the universe- talked well into the night, swapping stories and laughing and just enjoying each other's company.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The kids had insisted on building a fort using all the pillows and blankets in the household that night, and they had all crawled underneath and eventually fallen asleep, Rory still in his scrubs, Amy still in the dress she had worn that day, and the Doctor still in his tweed and bow tie and boots.
He had disappeared by the next day, the family waking up and finding him missing, leaving nothing save the gift basket, but they were okay with that. They got a goodbye, a real goodbye. They had their closure, their words of parting shared in person and not in books written before their time, and they were happy.
I needed more of my own closure, so of course this had to be written. I'm still rather upset about that last episode, despite it being a good two days ago, and not very happy with Mr. Moffat. I mean... that's the ending you give some of the best companions ever?! (I say that about all the companions, but I don't care...) Yeesh. And the Weeping Angels are going to give little children nightmares for weeks. My friend's brother, who visits New York sometimes with the rest of his family, had a nightmare. I don't blame him. Was it really necessary to turn the Statue of Liberty into an Angel? Something that stands for good into a really creepy not-good thing that stalks you onto rooftops?
'Sides, there's no way that nobody would miss something that huge walking across the city. Lady Liberty is made of metal (copper, to be exact), she's hollow, and aren't there security guards in her feet? ...Just realized how odd that sounded, but it's the truth. I personally think it's the BBC poking fun at us Americans (no offense to the BBC).
Ugh. And for the record, if River could go and meet Amy and Rory (she had to be able to, to get Amy to write the afterword) why couldn't the Doctor tag along? Why couldn't he just go and take the bus? It's like... NOT COOL. Seriously, Moffat, I think you made just about every single Whovian cry that night. I still think you're amazing and that you have got some seriously epic writing skills, but that doesn't mean I can't be upset with you for the time being. And the sad thing is, there are ways you could have written it better - and by better I mean more shocking and more depressing. :( If the whole first scene was deleted and just started with Amy, Rory, and the Doctor having a picnic, we would have had so much less to go on... Although it's really a good thing that didn't happen or I'd be going on about this for even longer.
-END RANT-
...I'm done now. Sorry about that there, but I needed to get it out of my system. Anyway, like I said, I needed to write some closure, or at least a happier ending. So here you go.