A/N: This story is a reimagining of the final days of the Ponds, starting with their initial farewell from the Doctor in 'The God Complex'. In this story, River won't tell them that the Doctor survived and they will be separated from the Doctor for a long time. This is how I would have preferred series seven to have been written, but don't fear! There will be no character, writer or story bashing.

Prologue I

-~- The God Complex -~-

The street sat sleepily beneath heavy, clouded late autumn skies. Lined on one side with brightly painted terrace houses, the street could have been anywhere in southern England. In the village green, leafless trees draped their shade over abandoned play equipment, and a thin breeze blew what few dead leaves remained in the street. A beautiful, sleek red roadster convertible with the top down was the only car parked on the street.

Slowly, surely, with a wheezing, grinding groan that spoke of eternity and infinity, a tall blue box faded into existence on the footpath. It looked so out of place on that standard issue suburban street, but there was no one around to notice it. A door on one side swung open when an audible creak, and three people stepped out.

One, the only woman among their number, sounded tired as she said: "Don't tell me. This isn't Earth, that isn't a real house and inside lives a goblin that feeds on indecision."

The man to her left, with a pronounced chin and wearing a tweed jacket, answered her with a smile. "No. Real Earth, real house, real door keys."

This latter he tossed to her with a proud grin.

She caught the thrown keys, and stared down at her hands in disbelief. She looked back at the house they'd landed in front of. It was a beautiful two-floor terrace, with a blue front door and a lace curtains in the windows. It was identical to all the other homes in the street, but for the shiny car parked outside.

"You're not serious," she said in her lyrical Scottish wilt.

"The car, too," the man to her right said, jaw hanging slack beneath his large nose. He stepped towards the vehicle, its crimson chassis still sparkling despite the overcast day. "But… that's my favourite car. How did you know that was my favourite car?"

"You showed me a picture once and said 'this is my favourite car'," the first man said, in a passable imitation of the second's somewhat flat middle England accent. He tossed another set of keys in the air.

"Rory," the woman said, walking to her husband and silencing his thanks with a quick "Give us two minutes."

Rory, misjudging his wife's tone, put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "She'll say we can't accept it," he said, conspiratorially, "because it's too extravagant and we'll always feel a crippling sense of obligation."

Shooting a look to his wife, he added: "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

With that, he dashed off towards the house, sparing a few looks of wonder at the gorgeous vehicle he'd just been given

The woman, Amy Pond, leant against the car and patted the space on the hood beside her. The other man went to join her.

"So," she said with a frown as he took his proper place beside her, "you're leaving, aren't you?"

"You haven't seen the last of me," the man, the Doctor, promised her, but there was something in his voice that told her he was lying. "Bad penny is my middle name. Seriously, the looks I get when I fill in a form."

The weak joke wasn't enough to comfort her.

"Why now?"

After a long pause, the Doctor answered. "Because you're still breathing."

Amy swallowed, and looked away before answering with a weak joke of her own. "Well, I think this is about the washing up, personally."

The Doctor spared her a giggle, but hepushed himself away from the car and drifted towards his TARDIS, the blue box that had accompanied him on his adventures long before he'd met Amy Pond and her husband, and would continue to accompany him long after they'd gone off to live their real lives.

"But you're right," he said, turning back to her. "There's still a lot of stuff to look at out there. Did you know there's a planet whose name literally translates as 'volatile surface'?"

Amy giggled at the absurd gestures he made, and he took the last few steps to his TARDIS. Leaning in the doorway, he grinned back at her. "And maybe there's a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there."

He nodded to the house he'd given her. Amy lowered her head, thinking for a second, before walking over to him.

"Even so, it can't happen like this," she said, her voice full of barely contained emotion. "Not after everything. Not after everything we've been through, Doctor. You can't drop me off at my house and say goodbye like we've shared a cab."

The Doctor, his expression dark and hopelessly sad, said "And what's the alternative? Me standing over your grave? Over your broken body, over Rory's body?"

Unable to hold the tears back anymore, she pulled him into a hug. He buried his face in her shoulder.

"If you bump into my daughter," Amy said as she released him from her embrace, "tell her to visit her old mum some time."

The Doctor grinned, and threw a look towards the house. "Look after him."

"Look after you," Amy said, and planted a kiss on the Doctor's forehead.

The Doctor, with his tears in his eyes, nodded once and slowly walked back to the TARDIS. As he reached the doors, he offered Amy a quick wave and then closed the doors behind him. Their rusty hinges squeaked and Amy laughed.

The sounds of the TARDIS' dematerialisation started up and Amy heard the clink of champagne flutes behind her.

"What's happening?" Rory asked, holding a trio of glasses in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. "What's he doing?"

As Amy Pond watched the TARDIS fade away, she smiled through her tears. "He's saving us."