i decided to write this one-shot where the Doctor is still not getting over Amy. I love 11 x Amy, i ship it with my life. So please do enjoy and review at the end
"lately i've been, i've been loosing sleep. dreaming about the things that we could be,''
-Counting Stars b One Republic
All of time and space he had and he had to have met her.
Amelia Pond. The name was enough to make the Doctor shiver. She would pop up everywhere. Haunting him every step of the way in his adventures with Clara. At times he had heard the familiar Scottish voice and would burst in excitement, glad that she was back, before realizing that it was just his mind playing tricks on him .
Sometimes he hoped the TARDIS would pull visual records of Amy, but she never did. She knew that the sight of his beloved redhead would shatter him ,and remind him of hiss loss. The old girl had lost herself as well, she wasn't the same. Gone was the bright coral walls and the weird gizmos that would control her. The walls were grey and dull, for the Doctor wasn't the only one who had lost Amelia Pond that day. She did as well. Maybe she disliked Clara because she was not Amy, and the TARDIS knew that was a unfair reason, but she was still mourning. Mourning in secret with the Doctor.
It was always quiet though. The Doctor would always eat his fish fingers and custard in utter silence. The loud yelling and talking that graced the hallways and control room was long gone. Clara never really stayed for the night, always requesting to be sent back home. Thus that left him alone with his thoughts. Sometimes when he feels down, he'll talk a walk around the ship and stumble upon the William's old bedroom. He'll rest his forehead against the cold wooden door and tell himself not to enter, to move on, but he never listens. He opens the door and sits on the bunk bed. He'll look around and see pictures with Amy and Rory, smiling without a care in the world. He picks up the glasses that were resting on the night stand before putting them in his pocket and walking out of the room. He always travels with her glasses, in a way it's like she's still with him, that she never left his side.
But the worst part of it all is when he goes in the library. He'll sit down by the fire and unfold a piece of paper that's turning yellow and had deep creases from being folded over and over again. He has every word memorized by heart, but he still reads it and sheds a tear. He's thought about throwing it away or in the fire before, it wasn't good for him to hold onto the past. Instead of listening to himself, he'll just fold it back up and places it in his jacket. She reminded him of others, of the one's he's let down before her. The ones with the empty promises and tears. Before he took Amy, he promised to himself that she would live a normal life after they were down, that she wouldn't end up in a parallel universe or have her memory taken away from her to forget about him. Of course, he always broke his promise, he always does. He promised her the world and he gave it to her, only to have her ripped away from him.
And what hurt him the most was the fact that he didn't get a chance to say goodbye. A proper goodbye. Every night, before he went to pick up Clara, fix the TARDIS or even take a cat nap. He'll walk past her room, open the door and grab a picture of her, staring at it before whispering the words that he was too afraid to say before.
"Amelia Jessica Pond, I love you,"
reviews would be great, thank you for reading my very short one shot aha.