Author's Note: I was so touched by the ending of the Christmas Special that I felt compelled to write this. It basically gives some background for what happens right before the Pond's reunion with the Doctor, and really portrays both the Doctor and Amy's feelings about the whole situation. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are always welcome:)
*Note* - I have edited this since its original publishing, omitting words or phrases that were unnecessary, or too descriptive.
Disclaimer: BBC owns all rights to Doctor Who, I do not.
Even as the raggedy man fiddled carelessly with the asymmetric shapes of the TARDIS controls, he couldn't seem to block out the recent memory of his final conversation with Madge Arwell.
He could still feel the intensity of her warm blue eyes, as they'd seemed to acknowledge the depths of his ancient soul.
' I want you to stay for Christmas, please.' Her sparkling blue eyes cut straight to his hearts. 'Ah, well, you see, things to do, people to see.' Flailing his arms in every sort of direction, the man in the bow tie had quickly dismissed her concerns.
Madge had looked to the ground. 'Of course, yes. Family of your own.'
His hearts crumbled; he thought of River, his wife, Amy and Rory, his parents-in-law. 'Well... no, actually...'
Rule one. 'Oh. Yes, yes, you said no family. But there must be people who love you. Friends...'
The image of River Song, standing atop that pyramid, tears skidding down her cheeks flooded his mind.
His wife.
She was the only one who knew the truth.
And then there was Amy Pond—the Girl Who Waited, and her husband—the Last Centurion, his best friends, his companions, living without the knowledge of his existence. 'No. Well, yes. But... It's a long story... but they all think I'm dead. Never mind. Anyway, watch my box do its thing. It's really cool, you'll love it.' Looking for a distraction, he had pointed to the TARDIS, trying to impress his new friend. 'No, no-one should be alone at Christmas.'
It was as if he'd been punched in the gut.'I'm fine, I don't mind. I'm really very good at...'
Rule One, again. Lies, lies, lies… 'I'm talking about your friends! You can't let them think that you're dead! Not at Christmas!' 'It's complicated, very complicated, it's far too complicated...' Or maybe he was just too scared; his words just another rubbish excuse. 'You must tell them. At once. Off you go.' 'Yes, Mum. I'll think about it.'
Though he had been secretly touched by her generous invitation, he knew that deep down at the bottom of his hearts he was needed elsewhere.
When the brave woman had asked if he had had a family, he had quickly denied it and he very nearly said the same about his friends.
But, in that moment, Madge Arwell had unknowingly reminded the Doctor of the frightening truth that he had been fleeing from for some time.
Whether he liked it or not, he had cruelly let his best friends believe he was dead, forcing them to cope with a lie that was so far from the truth.
"No-one should have to be alone at Christmas," the words repeated in his mind, swirling, taunting. Madge had bluntly vocalized her concerns to the mysterious caretaker, shortly before that very man had drifted off in his blue box.
Now, the Doctor clung to those words, in a desperate attempt to force himself to do what had to be done.
Even then, he was certainly aware that this superficial excuse was not the true source of his reluctant actions.
The real reason that the Doctor was going to pop by the home of his best friends wasn't just because it was the right thing to do, but because he genuinely needed them.
But it was deeper than that, an intrinsic need woven in his hearts.
Love. He loved them.
At first, he didn't want to even acknowledge it. The truth. This wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Every time, every time he let himself admit his feelings, what did it amount to? Death to those he held most dear.
Even having this at the back of his mind, taunting, and plaguing, always plaguing, the Doctor couldn't deny how he felt. Not anymore.
He loved his ginger haired companion so very much. From her beautiful smile, to her feisty nature and ever-present cleverness, the girl always had been a sight to behold. Not to mention, she had an incredibly strong faith in her undeserving imaginary friend.
Despite his broken promises and despicable actions, Amelia Pond remained loyal even to the one whom had deserted her many a time.
This loyalty was certainly engrained in her husband, as well. Perhaps one of the qualities that the Doctor admired most about Rory was that he was fiercely protective of those he cared for the most.
The eventual Roman had even sacrificed his own life on behalf of the daft old man in the bow tie, who had, if he recalled correctly, never even uttered a word of thanks.
Some friend the Doctor was.
If waiting patiently on his own for nearly two thousand years was not enough evidence in itself of Rory's fierce loyalty, the Doctor did not know what was. That daunting experience had given the Centurion a fatherly sense of wisdom that extended far beyond his supposed twenty-two years and it had always been expressed at the most unlikely times.
Though Rory was physically very young, the man in the bow tie could at times search his soulful eyes and perceive a love, wisdom, and weariness that could have only come from old age.
In this regard, the sandy haired man seemed capable of identifying with the Doctor in a way that no one had in a very, very long time.
This indescribable love that bound the raggedy man together with his wonderful companions was not in any way romantic.
It was a quiet, brotherly love that extended even past the meaning of true friendship, and into the realm of what was extremely complicated and inscrutable.
Conversely, the love that the lonely man had for their curly haired daughter was, one might say, very different, in the least.
The Doctor's relationship with River Song had always been strange and difficult to assess, but as his tender feelings had grown for her, it had blossomed into something he'd never believed he would have had the joy of experiencing again.
Marriage.
After she had revealed her willingness to save him and her deep, stubborn love for him, he had voluntarily married her.
Since then, he'd realized that River Song was such a perfect mix of both of her parents, for she possessed her mother's fiery spirit, and her father's fierce loyalty, which made her incredibly irresistible.
Just as River had always been keenly aware that the Doctor was actually alive, he had decided that it was time for her parents to discover the truth, too.
Now, as the raggedy man maneuvered the blue box to the location in which he had last left his friends, he could not help but feel a tangible force holding him back.
One dark and deadly, tugging strongly at his rapidly beating hearts, threatening to devour him as it had so many times in the past.
The Doctor reeked of fear.
His crinkled palms were sweating and his forehead was contorting into tiny folds.
For once in his life, the man in the bow tie was so paranoid that he actually landed the TARDIS without the brakes on. He did so because he had not wanted to cause a scene. If his perceptive companions had heard the familiar buzzing of his time machine, he would have had no choice but to confront them.
At least this way he could back out at the last minute, if necessary.
No. No…I have to this. What am I so afraid of anyway?
The answer, the Doctor knew, was quite simply found in the doubts that were ravaging his soul.
Would they ever be able to forgive him for concealing the truth? Did he even deserve their forgiveness, at all? What if he only placed them in further danger by coming to see them again?
The raggedy man sought to suppress these menacing questions as he finally mustered the courage to creep the TARDIS door open.
As the last of the Time Lords allowed the outline of his friends' home to come into view, he tried to rid himself of any positive expectations.
He would consider himself lucky if the door was not slammed in his face.
Just the opportunity to encounter his loved ones yet again for even a few, brief minutes gave him the motivation to move forward.
Though, in all honesty, as the Doctor approached the smooth, concrete steps, he could only wonder how he was going to manage to force himself to reach that shimmering, TARDIS blue door.
A tube of foaming water trickled out of the faucet and into the rigid structure of the plastic gun, which was clasped by a set of pale, wavering hands.
"Amy, what are you doing?" The sandy haired man inquired of his trembling wife.
"Filling a water pistol, what'd ya think?" The feisty red head fumed, still unable to conceal the slight tremor in her voice.
Her watery hazel eyes focused on the perplexed face of her husband, who was obviously growing in his concern for her.
Glancing in the opposite direction, Amy Pond realized that her daughter, who had been setting the table had suddenly stopped, leaving the task unfinished.
"Mum, are you okay?" River Song finally questioned, shooting her mother an empathetic look.
Feeling bombarded by the fierce stares of her family members, Amy breathed deeply, mustering the strength to answer.
"I'm fine…absolutely fine…I'm just tired of those annoying carolers…really…that's all."
No matter how much she tried to veil the truth, the red haired girl knew that her attempts were useless.
Because her husband and daughter were all too familiar with her emotional propensities, it was incredibly easy for them to see right through her façade.
Shifting her face down towards the ground, Amy Pond realized that she couldn't even fool herself.
The singing children, themselves, were not the source of her irritation and inconsolability; rather it was the messages of the Christmas carols they sang that seemed to gnaw ravenously at her soul.
The haunting melodies talked of peace and joy, family and friends. In many ways, the woman supposed that she possessed these qualities in her own life, and so she had no legitimate reason to be saddened by them.
But the truth was that these words served not to remind her of what she had, but of what she'd lost.
The gigantic, gaping hole in her heart, had always been there, but it seemed that whenever Christmas rolled around, the scathing wounds of both her past and present were resurrected.
Now, casting her eyes toward of the empty seat at the table, she came very close to crying.
In that moment, all she could visualize was the image of a ridiculous man with a floppy frock of hair and a crimson bow tie.
The shattered memories that followed included a mix of both joy and sorrow.
After allowing herself to dwell on the past and the agonizing pain of the last two years of her life, Amelia Pond felt her body yearn with a great intensity for her best friend.
Despite the hurt the Doctor had caused her throughout the course of her life, the Girl Who Waited continued to cling to a flicker of hope that was echoing through her heart, telling her that he would return to her yet again.
As the crumpled figure of the ginger haired woman nestled atop the sink, the sandy haired man approached her, his smooth hands lovingly gliding over the tops of her stiff shoulders; his soft lips gently touched the crook of her neck.
"Don't you give up hope, Amy…the Doctor always comes back…but, I'll tell you what, I could really do for a ridiculous miracle right about now…" Rory whispered tender words of comfort in her ear, desperately wanting to assuage her doubts and fears.
When the beeping sound of the timer began to reverberate throughout the kitchen, Amy began to distract herself with the lingering chores that had yet to be completed.
Digging her hands in a pair of folded oven mitts, the young red head somehow relinquished the smoldering turkey from the jaws of the oven without even burning herself.
As she cautiously placed the warm dish on the elaborate table cloth, her husband and daughter set out the appetizers.
After the food had been laid out carefully, the three Ponds prepared to sit down, well, that is, until a startling knock interrupted their dinner.
Quickly grasping the loaded water pistol, Amelia Pond headed towards the front of the house.
She automatically assumed that the visitors were only a bunch of kids, daring not to set her hope on the unlikely possibility that her raggedy Doctor had finally returned.
The man felt his heartbeats escalate at the sound of a feisty and familiar Scottish cadence coming from behind the door.
When the deep blue, wooden door crept open, the Doctor could have sworn that his entrails were entangling with dread.
For a mere second, the raggedy man stood paralyzed, as he was suddenly confounded by the presence of his impossible Amelia Pond.
Scanning her still face, he watched as her styled red hair dangled precariously to frame a face that was embellished with a decent amount of make- up, making her to seem a bit older than he'd remembered.
Oh no…I've done it again…The Doctor thought before forcing himself to ask a simple, two worded question.
"Sorry. I'm not sure…how long?"
"Two years," the faint reply nearly compelled the cowardly man to retreat back to the TARDIS.
And as Amy's pained expression tensed and splotches of frigid liquid spurted onto his flimsy tweed jacket, he decided it would be best to remain exactly where he was.
Her wild antics did not anger him in the least because he knew he deserved a far worse punishment.
Well, anything was preferable to a harsh slap from River Song, the Doctor mused, before realizing that could have very well been a possibility, as she was likely dining with her parents that night.
Struggling to focus his faltering eyes on Amy, the raggedy Doctor tried to listen as she voiced her concerns regarding his actions.
His hearts pounding in his ears, the man in the bow tie silently fumbled his lips, finding no sufficient explanation for his disappearance.
To his astonishment, her expression softened, as she revealed that River had informed them of the truth.
Of course. Here I was, all this time fretting over this, when they'd known all along. His thoughts were lost in a wave of silence that unfortunately managed to prevent them both from continuing the awkward conversation.
Crossing their arms stubbornly, both the Doctor and Amy Pond refused to submit to an urge that had been plaguing them both the entire time.
"I'm not gonna hug first."
"Nor am I."
But the tips of their mouths gradually tipped upward, and soon, neither could refrain from revealing their feelings.
In a gesture of comfort, the lonely traveler wrapped his strong arms tightly around the Girl Who Waited, rocking her softly back and forth, all the while reveling in the flowery scent of her hair.
Melody Pond had been right.
Her Mummy did smell nice. Very nice, indeed.
Digging his hands through her smooth, ginger frocks, the Doctor welcomed the warmth that exploded throughout his entire body.
When they had finally withdrawn from one another, neither could wipe the mischievous grins from their faces.
Then, Amy did something unexpected, calling for a certain Mr. Pond. The sandy haired man, also the Doctor's best friend, approached him, looking especially dapper, though a bit older than when they had last met.
The Roman and his wife both smiled very brightly, before kindly inviting their very special visitor to attend Christmas dinner.
"So, joining us?"
"If it's no trouble," he muttered in response, fearing they wouldn't accept him.
Of course, the Doctor was happy to oblige, his only concern being that his presence would burden them.
However, the couple hastily dismissed his concerns, quietly mentioning that they had reserved a special place for him.
As the Ponds subtly moved towards the dining room, the Doctor slowly trotted through the doorway, his body shaking slightly.
The lonely man was so touched by their awe-inspiring generosity that he felt a tiny tear trickle softly down his cheek.
But there was something very foreign about those tears, because they were not caused by pain or lonesomeness; rather, the small droplets came from a blazing sense of joy that now radiated from the very core of his being.
For what was quite possibly the first time ever, the man who at times prided himself with being the last of a great race, felt overwhelmingly human.
His glistening eyes drifting towards the three people he loved the most, the man in the bow tie seemed to sense the painful irony of the situation.
Years before, he had been a very bitter man, crushed by the loss of his entire world—every person he had ever known or loved. Soon after that traumatic experience, the man in the black jumper had encountered a clever blond girl, who had most certainly changed his life, though he could sadly recall a time when he had been unwilling to so much as briefly associate with her family.
'I don't do families.'
Now, as the same man stood quietly sobbing, centuries late, his thoughts raced back to a few words of comfort he had once given a good friend.
"The Universe is big and ridiculous, and sometimes, impossible things just happen, and we call them miracles…" While these words circled relentlessly through his head, the Doctor finally understood a fundamental truth of his life.
He was living a miracle.
As his gaze remained glued to the faces of his beautiful wife and wonderful best friends, the lonely traveler no longer felt like an outsider.
Sensing that the glorious love in their eyes was in sync with his own, the Doctor wanted to pinch himself, scarcely believing he wasn't living out some sort of blissful dream.
Of all the amazing impossibilities that the universe had held in store, he had never anticipated such an astounding gift. Not in a million years could he have seen this coming.
For what had been the first time in eons, the Doctor could truly say he had a family.
Note: I hope you all enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it, though quite honestly it was longer than I had originally anticipated. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!
P.S. If you liked this story you might also enjoy some of my others, which are posted on my Profile page.
Anyway, I hope you all had a great Christmas. Have a safe and happy New Year!