Story Title:Rapunzel, Rapunzel
Fandom:
Doctor Who
Rating:
G
Characters/Pairing:
Rory/Amy
Summary:
The Doctor breaks in her new body. Lumley!Doctor (or general female!Doctor)
Notes:
Another old fic. Really short, and I don't know if I like it, but here it is. I think it was written sometime after season 5, but before season 6. Also, this is in second person, which I don't usually write in. Again, concrit is my favorite. Thanks for reading!

She cuts her hair off when she's fifteen. She says it's too kiddish, too fairy tale. All the girls in her old storybooks have long hair, and she says she's not in a storybook. So she cuts it off. You always loved her hair. It was so bright and red and her. It was loud and angry and it didn't care what anybody thought. And it was so fairy tale. You're not sure what this means, exactly, but you know, somehow, that whatever 'fairy tale' is, her hair is- was- it. And so is she. You watch the flaming locks fall to the floor, and you remember the picture she drew when she was 12, of a ladder which will take her to the stars. In the picture there's a tower, with brambles at its base. You remember thinking she was like Rapunzel, the beautiful princess trapped in a tower with a mean old witch, dreaming of a life outside, a life with her prince. But in her story, the one she made with her pictures, the ladder doesn't go down, towards the brambles- no, in her story, the ladder climbs up, and up and up and up, until it reaches all the way to the stars. That's where her prince is—way up in the stars above the earth, above the tower, too far to hear the princess call his name. In her story, the ground is empty.

You tell the story differently. In your story, the ladder goes up, and up, and up, but in your story the ground is clear—clear, but not empty. The brambles are ornaments which adorn the princesses hair, and on the ground is a prince. He reaches up his hands, asking her again and again to let down her hair, but she never hears him. She never sees him. She's too busy looking at the sky. All the prince has to aide his climb are the brambles the princess gives him. So he climbs the stones, clinging to the cracks in the tower.

When she cuts off her hair, she says she doesn't live in a storybook. You can see her heart breaking as she says it. You promise yourself that you will fix it. You promise to make her a ladder. You promise yourself that someday you'll give her back her storybook.

You promise to make the stars fall.