Title: Survive
Summary: "They'd been avoiding words like 'suicide' during Amy's stay in the hospital, under the recommendation of the doctor."
Rating: M for themes of suicide
Word Count: 1560
Other Chapters: No.
Disclaimer: The British Broadcasting Corporation owns Doctor Who and all related trademarks. I do not in any way profit from the use of these trademarks.
Pairings: None.
Contains: Twelve-year wait AU.
Warnings: suicide; gaslighting
"Good to be home, right?" Mels said, walking into Amy's bedroom behind her.
"Yeah, sure," Amy said, collapsing onto her bed. "I guess." The rope burns around her neck were starting to heal. That was good.
"Your parents want to get you back in therapy," Mels said.
Amy laughed a little. "You think?" She stared up at the ceiling. "I'm probably lucky they don't want to lock me up somewhere."
"Don't say that," Mels said. "Why would they? You're not crazy."
"Three psychiatrists would disagree. Soon to be four."
"Alright," Mels said. "So that's four doctors who say you're crazy and one who'd say you're perfectly sane. But that one is the best so the rest can shove it."
"Stop it, Mels," She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.
"Stop what?"
"Stop talking about him," she said without looking up.
Mels swallowed hard. "Why?"
"...Because what if I am crazy?"
"You're not."
"I'm not actually sure that I'm not, any more."
"Then you're letting them make you crazy and you have to stop!" Mels said quickly, and she raised her voice as she said, not because she was angry but because she was afraid. She'd never seen the Doctor but her conviction that he was real equalled or surpassed her mother's, and it wasliberating to hear Amy talk about the Doctor and devastating to hear her doubt him. The Doctor was real, and he was powerful and wonderful. She loved him. They both did. He was divine enough to save Amy's life but far too divine to be allowed to live. Mels knew these things, and she only half knew how she knew them. Her certainty was all she had in this world and it scared her when her only ally in it got scared. Even Rory seemed to just be humouring them most of the time.
Amy said nothing.
"I don't think you should get another therapist," Mels said. "I think you were right to quit the last one. I think they make things worse for you."
"I didn't quit Dr. Upkins," Amy said, looking back over at Mels and sighing. "I bit him, and then he quit me."
"Same difference," Mels said.
"My parents think you need therapy too. They say you're part of the problem."
Mels shrugged. "Your parents ever been to therapy?"
"They've done group sessions with me before."
"Yeah, but not like proper therapy like they make you go to, right?"
"No."
"So how do they know that therapists are so great?"
"Well, I didn't try to kill myself when I was in therapy!"
There it was. She'd laid it out in the open as a matter of fact. They'd been avoiding words like 'suicide' during Amy's stay in the hospital, under the recommendation of the doctor. When they needed to talk about it, phrases like 'what you did three nights ago,' were used instead. This was a delicate matter, and the last thing anyone wanted was to trigger Amy again. It didn't seem like she minded talking about it, though.
Mels swallowed hard. "You wanted to, though." She'd mentioned it off-hand, a couple of times. The odd joke here and there about taking a gun to her head. The confession that on bad nights she thought about slitting her wrist. Mels never really thought she'd actually try anything, though. She assumed that this was just a long dark patch, and that Amy would pull through it unscratched.
Well, the doctor said the burns on Amy's neck would heal, and Mels would keep a better eye on her mother from now on.
"Yeah, but I didn't."
"Did he stop you?"
Amy closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. "Mostly you did. I mean..." She buried her face in her pillow again. "It's stupid."
"I bet it isn't," Mels said.
Amy sighed. "I didn't want to leave you alone."
Mels smiled slightly. "I can take care of myself, mum."
Amy smiled too, and she opened her eyes. "I wonder sometimes. I'm sorry. I was selfish."
Mels shook her head. "You scared the Hell out of me, Amy." And she had. Mels had no idea what would happen if Amy died.
"The worst part is, my parents do blame you and now they really don't want me hanging out with you." She sat up and she and Mels frowned at each other. "I heard them talking in the hall. They said they were going to talk to me about it later. They don't get it, though. You didn't get meobsessed with the Doctor or the crack in my wall. I got you onto it. It's so stupid."
"And it really doesn't matter," Mels said. "We're not going to stop seeing each other."
"We're sixteen," Amy said. "I think they could stop us if they wanted to. They could... send me back to Scotland or something. I don't know."
"You don't think I'd follow you to Scotland? Rory too?"
Amy smiled. "You, maybe. Wouldn't be the first time you slipped onto a train without paying. Rory couldn't, though. He's got plans and a life and..." She shrugged.
"Shut up. He'd follow you to the end of the universe. And someday he probably will, when your Doctor comes back for you."
"And you?"
"Someone has to look out for you, Amy," she said.
Amy smiled slightly.
Mels wondered to the other side of the room, where Amy's crafter were spread out on her desk. There was a purge coming. Mels knew it and Amy must have realized it too. Once every few years, Amy's parents made her get rid of all of her crafts about the Doctor. If she wouldn't agree to voluntarily give them up, they'd sneak into her room while she was at school and throw them all away. It was just about the least helpful thing they could do for Amy's mental health, but parents can't always be expected to understand these things. Anyway, it never lasted. Amy would always start recreating everything almost instantly. It was therapeutic for her. Destroying her collection just meant that it got better the next time around. And now that Mels and Amy were older, they were getting good at anticipating when they were coming. Honestly, Mels was surprised that all of this stuff hadn't already been gone by the time Amy was released from the hospital. The fact that it wasn't was not necessarily good. It probably meant that Amy's parents intended to talk to her about it, and wanted her to agree to it and help them get rid of it. Amy would do so, but only very grudgingly.
"Should I take some of this stuff home?" Mels said, picking up a small doll of the Doctor and looking at it, wishing that she could properly discern his features from it.
"Do you want it?" Amy asked.
Mels kissed the doll and then threw it to her best friend. "Don't you want me to save it? You spent hours on that thing."
"And not just so that you could kiss it!" Amy said.
"No. So that you could kiss it."
Amy held it up and stared at it oddly for a moment, then sighed and threw it back to Mels. "Take it if you want it. It's been eight years and he hasn't come back. He's either not real or he doesn't actually like me."
"Don't say that," Mels said. "He'll come back."
"Probably not." Amy collapsed backwards again. "Why would he, even if he is real? I'm just a stupid kid. Who'd want to take me into space? Maybe it is time I get rid of all this junk."
"Amy—"
"I don't want to be Crazy Amelia Pond for the rest of my life!" She touched the burns on her neck. "And this is unhealthy, isn't it?"
Mels shrugged. "I think that everyone constantly telling you that you didn't see what you know you saw is unhealthy." She chewed the inside of her cheek for a second, and glanced over at the crack. "And I think they should probably fix that crack in your wall." She looked back at Amy and shrugged. "They keep telling you that your perception of reality is wrong. That'd make anyone crazy."
"I guess." Amy said. "But they're never going to fix the crack. Or stop telling me that the Doctor isn't real."
"Maybe we could fix it. Together. We'll buy... whatever it is you use to fix walls..."
"This plan is off to an excellent start," Amy said.
"We'll google it, okay! And then we'll fix it. And that's one problem out of the way. Then you'll just have to wait for your Doctor to come back and then they can suck it."
"If he ever comes back."
"He's coming back!" Mels said. She sighed and held the doll tightly like a child half her age. "You're not crazy, Amy. And you're not just a stupid kid. You'll get through this. You'll survive him." Mels knew should would, of course. And she hoped that she would too, and that it would be worth it. They were just two crazy teenagers out in Leadworth, but they were stronger and more powerful than any of Amy's therapists could ever guess. Mels knew. This was just the first of many things that she and Amy would survive together.