"Doctor."
No answer.
"Oi. Doctor."
Silence.
"… Doctor."
The Doctor moaned out a tired yawn, not even bothering to cover the explosive sound with a hand. Lazy eyelids kept closed, though the sun's yellow glow was demanding on the Time Lord's face. When his cacophony ended, a small smile touched his lips then as he realized how furiously Amy must have been staring at him.
"What is it, Pond? I'm thinking, here."
Amy scoffed into the warm, summer air, though an unwilling giggle escaped her lips shortly after.
"I was just wondering."
"Wondering, eh? What are you wondering about? Why can't you just enjoy the sun on your face? Come to think of it… I probably should have some brought sunscreen for you. Hm. Hope you don't burn or anything."
"Well, I was just thinking…"
"Though, even if you do burn, I have some Bio-Reactive Cream leftover from a twin Hath coronation I once attended… just in case."
"Doctor, I'm talking."
"Wild, that reception was. Absolutely wild. You wouldn't believe what wound up in the punch that night. Everyone thought it was the funny uncle, of course, but it was actually their mother the whole time!"
"Doctor!"
"Or was that at the Judoon rave? I can't quite remem — what? What is it, Amelia?" he growled out.
She paused, stifling a wicked grin at the Doctor's deflation for being interrupted. "I was just wondering… where are we?"
"Didn't I tell you already?" the Doctor asked in a more gentle voice. He turned his head to the side, meeting the playful gaze of his companion. The two of them lied side by side, with smushed and beaten down flowers cushioning their backs and legs as a vast, turquoise sky loomed above them - each section and corner of the atmosphere dotted with fluffy clouds. Amy returned the Doctor's apologetic smile, and he took a deep breath in, feeling his head fill with much needed and precious oxygen.
"This is Helia - the flower capital of the universe! You'll find all sorts of plants here. This planet is all summer, all the time - with the occasional spring season, of course. The vegetation needs to be fed somehow."
Amy blinked in wonder, her head rolling with her as wide, hazel eyes roamed over the fantastic array of yellow and brown around them. She laughed incredulously and clapped a hand to her forehead where she then brushed away some scattered hair. "This is amazing! How big is it?"
"Big," the Time Lord admitted. "There are fields with every single type of blossom in existence here. If we headed west right now, we'd enter upon the Realm of Roses - red roses, white roses, yellow, pink, blue, purple, orange, indigo… even diamond-encrusted! Oh, Amy… you should see this place during a sunrise."
"What happens then?" she asked eagerly.
The two exchanged another glance, and then a grin. The Doctor was suddenly wiggling himself closer to where she lay, and Amy readjusted her hands so that they rested contentedly on her stomach instead of being laced behind her head like before. Their shoulders bumped slightly just as he settled himself again, though to Amy, it was a welcome gesture among a strange and alien world. Shifting her head, she slowly nuzzled it into his neck, feeling his cheek press against the crown of her hair. And then, the Doctor began once more.
"Well, just imagine - everything is dark. A cool breeze flits in and out of the flowers like a friend, kissing each closed blossom good morning. All at once, a ripple of light peaks just over the mountains in the distance - yes… the ones just over there. Right. Everything is illuminated in pale pink and purple like a cloak. As the minutes tick by, the flowers slowly drink in the sun's warm welcome, and then the sun greets the flowers back, watching as millions of petals begin to unfold in the misty morning. This continues on and on, you see, until that moment when the sun's last ray lifts itself off the cardboard skyline. It's a brilliant supernova of light and color, hues of every pigment singing in absolute harmony. The whole planet glows then, until of course, the sun comes back down to rest. Because it must you know… everything has an end. Even a perfect day with humming sunflowers." The Doctor finished off in a low, quiet tenor, his light eyes blazing bright with the magic from his own words. He looked down at Amy who lay thoughtful on his shoulder and nudged her affectionately with his elbow. She chucked and folded her fingers together upon her stomach.
"Look at you," she giggled cheekily. "I've never heard you talk about a planet like that before."
"Really? Hm. Maybe I'm just in a good mood, then." The Doctor beamed into the air and felt a meek wind dance over their static bodies, long strands of scarlet flying loose from his companion's ear so that they tickled his face. It was a pleasant enough sensation, and he yawned again, his chest rising steeply with the movement.
"Where's Rory?" he then asked her sleepily. "Where did he run off to this time?"
Amy stirred slightly at the question and shrugged her horizontal shoulders. "Dunno."
"'Dunno'? What do you mean 'dunno'? What if he stumbled into a bubbling vat of toxic waste or something? Not that there is such a thing on this planet, but… it's Rory. I'd rather not have accidentally led the Last Centurion to his unforeseen extinction. We should go looking for him."
"No!" Amy whined gruffly. "I'm still tired from that last jail-break we did last week. Let's just stay here and rest for a bit. Okay?"
Okay?
… Okay?
Suspicious eyelids suddenly flew open, and the Doctor turned his head, a worried expression painted onto his features.
"Amelia. Where is your husband?"
Amy grumbled and peeked at him, the afternoon's sunlight causing her hazel eyes to shimmer furiously on snowy skin. "I already told you. I don't know."
"You don't know? How do you not know? Where is Rory?"
"Oi!" she exclaimed grumpily. "Quit asking, would you? I said, I don't know. Besides… why would Rory even be here in the first place? He doesn't travel with us."
He doesn't travel with us.
He doesn't travel with us.
He doesn't travel with us.
"Amy, get up," the Doctor ordered in a clipped tone. "Come on. Hurry."
"What? No! Argh — stop pulling at me, raggedy man," Amy argued as the Doctor rose to his knees. He clamped down hard on her wrists and yanked her into the same position while she batted angrily him. "Ow! Geez! Okay, okay! I'm up now. God… you didn't need to be so rough about it."
The Doctor's eyes were alive now, and drinking in their surroundings with agonized care. Several moments passed by where the two of them mirrored each other, hunched over and on their knees. Amy sat back on her heels and waited for the Doctor, feeling long stems of flowers being crushed underneath her. What had she said? What was wrong?
What was going on?
"Doctor?" she prodded nervously. "You're frightening me."
"This is all wrong," he muttered in a daze. The Doctor's gaze finally swiveled around to crimson hair and dark-fringed eyelashes. He leaned forward and rested his palms onto the tops of her arms and then squeezed gently, all trace of laziness and fatigue gone from his voice.
"Think, Amy. Where is Rory? Why isn't he here with us? When was the last time you saw him?"
"I'm… not sure, Doctor. I can't remember."
He sighed and then cupped her face in his hands, forcing their faces closer together. "But you can remember him, right? You haven't forgotten about Rory again?"
"I haven't forgotten," she answered slowly. "I just don't think he's here with us right now. I don't even think he was onboard the TARDIS when we went to leave."
"This isn't right," the Time Lord chanted once more. "Something is incredibly wrong, but I can't figure out what it is." He gritted his teeth together, and then released his jaw, glancing back up towards the sky. "We need to leave this place. Come along, Pond. I need to check something inside the TARDIS."
"Are we going to go find Rory now?"
"That too, though we would still be heading out soon anyways. We can't be here for the sunset." The Doctor then smoothed his hair back and straightened his bow-tie, calculating how long it would take for them to trek back.
They should have just enough time before dusk.
"Why not?"
A tired sigh freed itself from the Doctor's lips, which then twisted into some sort of appreciative grimace. "When the sun sets, the flowers release a sort of spore into the air. It's basically just a byproduct of their photosynthesis. Because the days here are so long, they need to get rid of the waste and extra sugar they manufacture before it builds up into their systems and begins poisoning them. The spores aren't fatal to other life forms like us, however, they do cause extreme drowsiness and disorientation - sometimes to the point of death. You lay down to sleep, but never get up again. Come on. It's best that we just leave now before we wind up sick from the sunflowers."
"Yikes," Amy chortled darkly. "I guess not even this place is one-hundred percent danger free. I feel bad the for bloke who decides to take a cat-nap in this place."
Another breeze caressed the two friends, wrapping them up in a delightfully perfumed current that took playful jabs at their hair and clothes. However, the Doctor suddenly froze in place, his peridot eyes turning to stone like lash-framed emeralds. The anxious blush drained from his face in seconds, and a cold sweat formed on his palms, making them slick and slippery. Fear was stitched across his stopped face, and Amy, abruptly alarmed at his changed state, took one of his hands and clutched it tightly.
"Doctor? Doctor, what's the matter? What happened?"
"I was wrong," he said pitifully, as if the words pained him to say. "I was wrong."
The Time Lord slowly sank back onto his heels, like Amy. He left his frigid hand with the young woman, making no apparent movement or effort in taking it back. He was pale, stiff, and shell-shocked.
He was wrong.
"What were you wrong about?" Amy soothed in a gentle manner.
Resignation sluggishly replaced Fear on the Doctor's face, and his features crumpled in resignation, a seemingly long shadow dawning over his colorless skin. He was a strange image to behold - sitting, sagging, and seemingly defeated, all at once.
"Doctor."
"I'm tired, Amelia. Can we just sit here for awhile? I'm sorry."
He blinked sadly and leaned forward, brushing his mouth across her forehead in a tender kiss. When the Doctor pulled away, he saw Amy staring wordlessly into him, a dozen questions or so bubbling onto the surface of her lips. The sun sank marginally, casting an orange glow to radiate all around them. The sunflowers absolutely burned with color, though the radiance seemed to avoid the Doctor's face somehow, as if the shadow upon it was seemingly more powerful.
"What about Rory?" Amy asked as she hesitantly settled down beside him. The Doctor's lips twitched slightly at her words so that they formed something that resembled a grimace, or even a mocking smile. Not meeting her eyes, he shook his head once and crossed his legs carefully, as if each motion caused him physical discomfort.
"Don't worry about Rory, Amelia. Rory's fine. We are all," he said aloud. "You were right before. Quite right… so I'm sorry for frightening you. Can we just watch the sun for now?" the Doctor then asked in a broken whisper. Amy peered closely at the tired man, and his eyes glistened brightly in the haze of yellow and orange and pink - glistened unnaturally. Clutching his hand tighter in hers, the Doctor laced their fingers together as his companion slid closer to his tweed jacket so that she could lay her head down on his shoulder, just like before.
"I still don't understand," she said lamely to him as long, sandbars of pink and purple stretched themselves across the singing sky. "What about the sunset? You just said we should avoid it… and now you want to stay?"
The Doctor sniffled once, and then then managed a strange sort of expression at her, as if his face didn't know how to convey the right emotions.
"I don't want to leave," he admitted guiltily. "I don't want to leave this place at all."
Amy stroked the top of his hand with her thumb, and peered up at him. "Why don't you want to go?"
It was just then that she realized he was trembling. He shook all over - no longer because of fear, but because of an unspoken grief that couldn't be told any other way. The Doctor frowned and returned her questioning gaze with sad, wet eyes. And then, he spoke to the sky, which now looked like the petals of an immense flower curling in on themselves.
"I don't want to go," the Doctor repeated solemnly. "Where I'm going, you see - well… you can't come."
At his words, Amy jerked slightly in response. "What? Of course I'll come with you, Doctor. I'll always be with you. Unless… unless you're leaving again?"
"No, Amelia… I'm not leaving again," he replied with a half-hearted laugh.
It wasn't right somehow.
Nothing he was doing or saying was making any sense! Amy tucked scattered strands of red hair behind her ear while still clutching onto the Doctor's hand. His fingers refused to warm up despite the amount of friction her thumb provided, and she then decided to palm their entwined extremities with her other hand, the ball of jumbled up digits resting firmly in her lap. "Okay… so, where are you going then? Is it some place dangerous? Is that why I can't come with you? Because I would want to be there anyway, you know. It's not like we haven't done some pretty stupid things in the past," she furthered. Her own voice sounded like she was trying to bargain with him.
However, the Doctor only smiled, one dim ray of sunshine finally perorating the aging shadows on his face. His eyes mocked whatever thought came first, because then he was soon laughing at himself with his eyes still wet from unshed tears.
"Oh, it's dangerous alright. Perhaps the most dangerous place I've ever known, actually. Most people never realize how wonderful it is, though - once you get past all of the bumpy-wumpy stuff."
Amy smiled politely at his inner-dialogue, still keeping her eyes trained onto his face. "Do you go there often?"
The Doctor nodded and said nothing more as he swallowed thickly at her worried gaze.
Amy glanced away then, her chin tilting up at the looming sky as she named all of the colors present. Dusk was upon them, and as the last traces of yellow faded from the clouds, the Doctor slowly let himself fall towards the ground, keeping hold of Amy as his back and shoulders rested comfortable once more against squashed grass and treaded sunflowers. Wrapping his free arm around his head, heavy closed his eyes the twilight sky, and he breathed deeply.
"Doctor…?" Amy murmured. She lifted herself slightly and fixed her cheek on top of his chest, feeling slow heartbeats against her skin as red cascaded over his bow-tie. He didn't stir, but a hand came up to her shoulders and pressed lightly. "What about the flowers? If you're tired, we should go back to the TARDIS. I mean, I love sunflowers, I really do. However, I don't necessarilyfeel like dying in them, Doctor."
"Relax, Pond," he soothed out gently. "We're fine."
Hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Amy was suddenly propping herself on one elbow beside his head. She glared down at him, gritting her teeth tightly before shaking him alert.
"No, Doctor. We are not fine! We're stuck here on this alien planet surrounded by killer sunflowers because you're tired and cross and don't want to leave! Now, you can stay here for all I care, but I'm going back to the TARDIS. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're going to have to tell me sooner or later, you raggedy, old man. Now get up."
"Amy —"
She tugged on his arm, and it budged a little. "Come on, Doctor."
"No… Amy. Calm down."
Another tug. "Are you coming with me or not? You do realize that we'll starve at some point, right? Assuming that you lot do tend to starve and all of that? Because once we lay down, we're probably never going to get back up!
"Amelia, stop."
"Ugh!" She let go of him then, and chuckled darkly. "This is ridiculous, Doctor. You're being a nightmare!"
At her words, the Doctor's glimmering eyes sharpened and then narrowed. All trace of gentleness left his face at once, and the dark shadow upon it widened eagerly, swallowing his angry and pain-ridden eyes in milliseconds. He jerked upright, his nostrils flaring slightly.
"Don't you talk to me about nightmares, Amelia Pond. Don't you ever dare.You are the nightmare in all of this! You!"
Amy flinched at his bellowing. He was angry, and she finally dropped his hand to the ground, feeling stunned by the venom in his voice.
"Me?"
"Yes. You!" the Doctor shouted again, but with less animosity this time. Twitching muscles in his jaw told her that he was gritting his teeth, and his shoulders drooped. "I'm asleep. I came to this planet all on my own and I fell asleep and you're just… well. You're just a dream. My dream," he ended neutrally. As if ashamed by his own revelation, he dodged his head away from her and drew up knees so that they were folded against his chest.
"But, Doctor…" Amy replied lowly. "This can't be a dream. Look, I mean, there's cause and effect, right? The sun is setting… the breeze is blowing! All in the right manner, the right order. It just can't be possible." She laid her hand back down upon the Doctor's shoulder, and he cast her a pitying sort of look.
"Yes, well - Time Lord dreams aren't exactly human, you know. Different brains, different functions… different neurons. Different dream logic, even. My dreams are often… realistic," he pronounced begrudgingly. "But, this - this one nearly had me."
The wind scattered scarlet hair all around his companion's face, but she couldn't really remember how to move her arms to sweep it away. She sat, frozen, with wide eyes and pale freckles. "How can you tell?" Amy whispered fearfully.
The Doctor glanced at her, raising a hand to brush the blazing locks around her ear so that she wouldn't have to. "For starters, you're already beginning to believe me. If this was real life… well, Amy Pond would never be able to swallow something like this. She'd fight and scream and yell at me until her throat was raw. And then she'd scream some more," he chuckled sadly. "Also… I have two sets of memories. I remember bringing you here, walking with you, talking, etc. However, I also remember coming alone. I remember parking the TARDIS near the Realm of Roses, not this sunflower meadow. I remember stepping out of its doors and shielding my eyes from the reflection of the sun. I remember coming to this place right here, where I must have fallen asleep. Two sets of memories… two accurate reports of data in my head. Both true. Does that sound familiar at all?"
Amy nodded slightly, feeling her eyes being searched by the Doctor. He roamed all along her face, observing carefully as if he was seeing her the very first time. She took back her hand and tried to smile.
"I didn't used to have parents, and then I did. And they had always been there for me, all along. Two separate childhoods… both true."
"Exactly."
"You gave me back my parents," she then added neutrally.
The Doctor smiled, his eyes crinkling with the authenticity from the gesture. He turned his legs around so that they faced her, and she mirrored him, all four ankles crossing over respective limbs. For awhile, they just stared. They stared at the ground, at the sky, at the hazy flowers all around them - sometimes they even stared at each other before looking away dejectedly. The planet was all blue and purple now, the only light emanating from each flower in the meadow as photosynthesis ended. It would be completely dark soon, and Helia would sleep.
Amy picked up a broken stem beside her and lightly traced its outline. "You said earlier that I wouldn't be coming with you on your next trip."
"Yes," the Doctor replied plainly. "That's correct."
"Why?"
Amy watched patiently as the Doctor's face suddenly stiffened, and then relaxed. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together, if only to keep them from shaking. Meeting her anxious gaze, he then sighed heavily.
"It's just like this place. Sometimes life is just so beautiful - the kind of beautiful that people write about in stories and legends and travel books, I suppose. The sort of beautiful that makes grown men weep while children will laugh for hours on end. Sometimes you don't ever want it to end, because that beauty… that wonder is something so precious and unlike any other feeling you've ever had in your entire life. But it's all just the same. You see, Amy: everything has an ending. It is inevitable. There's no fighting it, no stopping it. No matter what we feel, or how much we want it to stay… it's all going to disappear in the end like breath on a mirror. Sure - there will be stories and legends and articles in travel books to keep that idea of beauty alive and remembered, but no matter what, it's just not the same."
He shuddered once, inhaled deeply, and began once more in a dark voice.
"I don't age. I regenerate. But humans decay - you wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone you…"
Amy stirred slightly, and touched his hands in encouragement. "What, Doctor?"
The Doctor hesitated, but quickly recovered himself and beamed at her through the shadows.
"Imagine watching that happen to someone you once shared breakfast with."
She grinned then, and he joined in a moment after, his hands moving underneath hers. Their palms twined easily, as they had done a thousand times before, and the Doctor glanced at them reverently, observing how his gold, decorative watch bumped and slid across her snowy wrist.
"I don't want to wake up," he said morosely. "Everything is fine here."
Amy merely contemplated his words. "What will you do? Where do you feel like going next?"
"On a grand adventure… perhaps. I'm not sure. I really don't know where to go anymore. I suppose the universe is beginning to look all the same to me."
"Well… can't you find someone else to travel with, then?"
The Doctor's eyes snapped up and glared furiously into her face.
"I don't need anyone," a low voice whipped out.
Amy didn't flinch this time, but instead, squeezed his hands hard beneath hers. "I just meant that you shouldn't travel alone, Doctor. You shouldn't ever be alone. I obviously can't be there for you… but somebody else could be."
The Doctor's face softened at her words. "You know, Amy… I'll tell you something. The more I see the universe, the more I witness all of its happenings - well. The more I learn, the less I seem to understand. Can you make sense of all that?"
"Hm. I think Einstein said that once," Amy chuckled out.
"Great man, Einstein. Had a sense of humor that was unparalleled in his generation. You would have loved to meet him, I think."
"Yeah."
They grinned again, both knees pressed against each other's in casual acceptance. The Doctor blinked slowly and looked up at the darkening sky, where each twinkle of purple and lingering blue were being replaced by the void. Stars looked down upon the Time Lord, though they weren't the stars that he knew - these were different, all clustered together as if a child had taken up finger painting in the cosmos. Still, it was beautiful.
"It's almost time to go," Amy murmured aloud at the night time horizon. The Doctor's eyes lowered onto hers, widening noticeably in panic.
"Will I ever see you again?" he choked out hurriedly.
Amy smiled at him and nodded. "I feel as if I'll always be here, Doctor. Whether you ever learn to change your clothes or not."
A pained laugh escaped from the Doctor's lips then, and he inhaled shakily, grasping onto her hands so tightly that he thought his own fingers would break.
"Okay. Just… stay. As long as you can - please."
Amy smiled again and hummed quietly, the last traces of light receding into the hordes of the flowers all around them. Their leaves bristled on while the wind danced between them, and the Doctor sat contentedly cross-legged, his own hair messing in the breeze. Soft strands tickled his temples, but the sensation was lost in the perfume and shape of the young woman resting across his silhouette. Absentminded thumbs stroked at the tops of her hands, and she swayed slightly to whatever song she had started singing, the pleasant lullaby filling his ears with chocolate and honey and warmth. For a moment - just one moment, everything was perfect. The universe made sense and he didn't feel lonely. Though the sun had set, he still felt its presence sooting pale and anxious cheeks. Or maybe it was just the color of her eyes, and he was drowning in them. She sang them a song, and the Doctor freed a hand to once more tuck back a strand of loose hair that was whipping across her nose.
He leaned forward, and then was suddenly jerking awake on the soft ground, two hearts hammering wildly while his chest rose rapidly with the force of his gasping breath. Two hands steadied themselves behind his thighs, and he dashed upright, scanning his surroundings.
The night had abruptly disappeared, giving way to the first light of a sunrise as a myriad of sunflowers stood still as they waited. No wind pervaded the air and no stars dotted the heavens above. Instead, pastel painted clouds were there in their place, drifting coldly and silently in the dawn's early hour. Cold and silent, just like he felt.
There was no Amy beside him. There was no hair to be brushed back, no red mouth to defy his every tantrum, no lullaby to guide him to what he was supposed to do next. As a dead, numbing sensation spread all along his hands where he had touched her, the Doctor felt acid sting his eyes, and he ducked his head away from the mocking sky, feeling hot poison drip onto his fingers as he shielded his face protectively from the unwanted light.