Amy's pregnant. She already has a small bump. We just found out about a month ago, and here we are, setting up a crib. I insisted, of course. I've wanted kids ever since I myself was a child. I've always loved the thought of having something of your own that's your responsibility. I can't wait.
It's been eight months since we've seen the Doctor. He left a message the other day. He said he was saving a rare species of talking plants or something like that. Good ol' Doctor, saving the universe. He likes to leave messages. He's very frequent about it and we're always sure to reply just as frequently. I never thought I'd actually say this, but I actually miss that raggedy man. A whole lot actually. Quite funny, really.
"Rory!" Amy's voice echoes down the hallway, "Where's that wrench I needed?"
"Oh! Sorry, dear!" I respond and quickly grab the wrench out of the drawer. "A baby!" I mutter to myself, "An actual baby. Our baby..."
I arrive back in the soon-to-be nursery with the wrench. Amy greets me with a smile.
"Come here, stupid head, and help with with this crib!" I grin and kneel next to her. I lightly kiss her cheek and hand her the wrench. She takes it and starts to apply the final screw. My god, she's gorgeous. She always is. Even when her hair's messed up or when she gets so mad, her face turns as red as her hair. I can find no flaws. I truly love her.
"Done!" Amy exclaims.
"Well after that excruciating manual labor, I say we make some supper." I suggest.
"Ugh, cooking," Amy groans, "Too bad Doctor took our Ood. He was quite helpful." I laugh at her laziness. She's never been the biggest fan of cooking or cleaning, so we do it together.
"Oh come on, then!" I take her hand. "We can be co-chefs!" We walk hand in hand into the kitchen. I release her hand and open the refrigerator. "We have eggs. I suppose breakfast for dinner could be an option."
"Let's do it." She grins and takes out a bowl from the cabinet. I bring out the ingredients and soon enough, we get cooking.
oOoOo
"That was a good movie." Amy yawns and stretches. It's only nine, but we're both exhausted.
"Why don't we go to bed for the night?" I suggest motioning down the hall.
"Sounds good to me." She says and heads for the bedroom. I follow closely behind her. When we get to our room, I grab some pajamas and change. As soon as I'm changed I lie down in bed. Amy arrives shortly after. She leans over me and kisses me for a second.
"Goodnight." She says rolling back over to her side and turning off the lamp. Within minutes, she's asleep. It's always taken me longer to fall asleep. Even when we were children and had sleepovers with Mels, I would always be the last to fall asleep.
I hear Amy murmur something. Huh, Amy never sleep talks. She mumbles something again, but this time it's clearer.
"Doctor…Help me."
oOoOo
When I awake, Amy has already gotten up. I peek at the alarm clock on my nightstand, 9:42. She's let me sleep in. I get up and slip into my bathrobe. My mouth tastes horrible. I hear water running; she must be taking a shower. Nonetheless, I can't stand my bad breath, so I enter the bathroom.
Steam hits my face as I open the door. Amy loves hot showers. The mirror's all fogged up and steam rises above the shower curtain. She must not of heard me come in because she's still mildly singing. I grab my toothbrush and apply toothpaste. I pop it into my mouth when I see something out of the corner of my eye. It's a pad of foam about three inches thick with a snap button strap that looks like would go around your stomach. What is it?
I'm still brushing my teeth and pondering its existence when it hits me. It's one of the pads that woman use in movies and tv shows to look pregnant. I spit out my toothpaste and slowly pick up the pad. Why did Amy have this? There were only two explanations. Either she had never been pregnant in the first place or she had lost the baby. My eyes blur with tears. My child. I wasn't a father. How could she have done this to me?
The shower stops and here I am, standing in the middle of the bathroom in a robe, crying. The towel that was hung over the curtain slides off and the curtain zips open. Amy steps out and freezes when she sees me, her stomach looking flatter than ever. Her eyes grow big and mine fill with more tears until an uncontrollable flood is spilling down my face.
"Rory, I,"
"How...how could you?" I gasp. The pad falls to the floor and I rush out of the bathroom. I throw off my robe and slip into a pair of dorm pants and a t-shirt. I fly to the back of the flat, grab my jacket, and run out. I don't know where I'm going. I just want to be anywhere but home. I jump down the steps in front of our home and turn right. A bus should be at the stop down the street about now. If I hurry, I can catch it.
"Rory!" Amy's sob breaks through the air in a pinching cry. "Rory, please!" I don't turn around. Instead, I walk faster and vigorously wipe the tears out of my eyes and off of my face. The bus is there. I dig in my pocket for my pass and board the bus. I flash it at the driver and take a seat as far back as I can go. As soon as I sit down, I can feel some of the anger leaving me, but not much. I loosen my muscles and try to relax, but they refuse to unclench. Giving up from the pressure, I lean my head on the window, close my eyes, and let it all go.
I get off the bus on the corner of Bradford and Maple, not for any particular reason. I just figure that it's far enough away. Just then, I realize that I'm hungry. Food? I think to myself, How can I be hungry after something like this happened? My stomach growls in protest. There's a small coffee shop on the corner across the street,BEANO'S. I walk straight inside; I need caffeine.
I reach into the back pocket of my trousers and pull out my wallet. As I open it, a picture flutters out and lands on the tile floor. I bend down and gingerly pick it up.
It's Amy.
I start to rip it in half, but stop suddenly. I took it at a department store. She's standing next to the sign that's advertising our perfume; her hand sticks out, underlining the title. In the background, there are racks of clothes. There's a person, just a silhouette, but none-the-less a person, standing behind a rack of clothes. It looks like their hiding. I stare at the figure once more and immediately know who it is, for on the neck of this ghost, is a small bump; a small, bowtie shaped bump.
Agony grips my stomach, churning the just drunk coffee, as I stare at the picture. No, I'm not staring at the picture; I'm staring at the man.
The Doctor. I need him.
My finger trails his silhouette as I walk out of the coffee shop. My eyes don't leave him as my feet carry me down the road. I can't believe how mesmerizing it is.
Vworp...vworp...vworp...
I stop. That noise…no, it couldn't be.
My eyes are everywhere, looking, searching for any glimpse of blue, but there's no box; no Doctor. I must have just imagined it. My stomach feels sick as I continue to walk. I'm clenching my fists, I can feel the picture bending inside of my right hand and the coffee cup in my left. I decide that the ground is interesting in that moment, and decide not to look up, but suddenly, find myself on the ground.
"Ow.." I mutter and put my hand on my head. What happened? My vision is blurry from whatever I ran into. I look up into the blinding sun. Something massive sits in front of me.
"Rory?
I turn my head to look at the voice.
"Doctor?"
"W-what are you doing here?" My words trip me up. The Doctor points across the street to a bookstore.
"I needed a good read, best bookshop in town, so Amy's told me." He smiles. "Where is Amy anyway? You two are always together; The Marvelous Ponds." He looks off, dreamily.
"She, uh, well," I shouldn't tell him yet. He mustn't worry. "She's gone shopping." That sounded convincing.
"Shopping…" He thinks about this for a second. "Fantastic! Well, Rory-Boy, shall we?" He motions into the TARDIS and sends a wink my way.
"Uh, yeah, sure!" I can feel my face getting hot with embarrassment as I step inside. My hand glides along the railing. I've really missed this place.
The Doctor disappears down the stairs without saying a word. What was he up to? I plop down in one of the three chairs near the console.
"I had just enough for two!" He reappears at the top of the stairs. In his hand are two teacups, a sugar container in the other. "You like sugar with your tea, right?"
I nod and take a cup from him. The steam hits my face like a warm summer breeze. I take a sip and reluctantly burn my tongue; at least the tea is good.
"So, how are you and Pond?" The Doctor says as he plops down next to me. "You pair are okay, aren't you?" There's a hint of uncertainty in his voice. I hesitate to answer but sipping my tea. Should I tell him?
"We're fine. Never been better." I've made my decision; don't tell him. I shift uncomfortably in the chair. In the process, a splash of tea somehow appears on my lap.
"Oh, dear!" The Doctor says, "I have some paper towels in the library, you know, just in case." He hurries off before I can protest, so I'm left to sit here until he returns. I tap my foot on the floor, waiting. The clock on the wall ticks madly.
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
Surely someone could loose his or her sanity from that noise; it's quite an annoying noise.
"Paper towels!" The Doctor says. He jumps down the stairs and rushes over to me. He immediately starts wiping up the spill on my left pant leg.
"Oh, you don't have to do.." I start to fend him off, but I stop midsentence. Why should I tell him to stop? Something tickles the inside of my stomach; a nervous, happy feeling. What was this? The only ever time I've ever felt like this was with Amy... what did this mean?
The Doctor ceases to wipe and looks up at me. We're barely an inch apart, our foreheads almost touching. I can't help myself. I lean in until my lips are firmly pressed against his. It takes me a moment to realize what I'm doing, but as soon as I do, I quickly pull away. I clear my throat, for it has gotten dry.
"Sorry, about that. I don't know wha-" My words get swallowed as The Doctor cups his hand around my neck and pulls me closer, so close that our lips almost touch again; I can feel the ghost of them on my own.
"Oh, Rory," his whisper sends a shutter through me. "I've been waiting so long." After saying these words, he brings allows his lips to meet mine once again.