I'm back! Sort of. For those that don't know, or actually for anybody that cares, I've changed my pen name from Lo613 to CrankWindPencil. Sorry if that's confused you at all. Moving on, this story is more or less based off of one line that I was able to come up with, and it is my average angst filled work. So go forth and enjoy said angst! Disclaimer- Now this may surprise you, but an American does not own a British show.
'Knock, knock'
The sound of two solid knocks on a wooden door sounded throughout the Pond's flat. Both Amy and Rory, who were currently reading in their sitting room glanced up, looking at each other.
'Knock, knock'
The knocks were faster this time around, more impatient, nearing on the edge of desperation, actually. A moment's hesitation later Amelia stood up, setting her book down and starting towards the door.
"I'll get it." She told Rory, glancing at him as she exited the room.
"If it's that damned minister again, tell him we're not interested!" Rory called after his wife.
"Noted." Came the reply.
Amy walked through the hallway leading up to the flats door, stopping once she was there.
'Knock-
"Quit your bloody knocking!" Amy called through the door. grasping and turning the knob as she did so. She pulled the door open, not quite knowing who to expect.
And even with that, she most definitely does not expect to see who she does.
As she opens the door, she is greeted by the sight of the most impossible man, with a dark tweed jacket, and a mop of brown hair, and a stupid bowtie around his neck.
It's the Doctor.
"Oh my God, it's you-" Amy starts. She stops suddenly, scrutinizing the friend that she hasn't seen in so many years. Because while it's most definitely him, something isn't quite right. Something is very seriously wrong here.
The Time Lord at her porch is leaned over slightly, one hand planted on the door frame to steady himself, the other over his jacket covered stomach. He's always been pale, but this, his skin is ashen, and a thin sheen of sweat covers him, causing his normally unruly hair to stick to his forehead. His whole body is shaking, and after a moment a violent tremor racked him, coursing through his body before leaving him once more. Still, at the sound of Amy's voice, he looks up at her and flashes a grin.
"Hello, Amy." He greeted, voice shaky but still his. He glances at her, looking her up and down before giving a nod of what is apparently approval.
"Wha- You said you couldn't come back...How are you here?" Asked Amy. The Doctor hesitated slightly.
"Temporal displacement of the flux capacitor left just enough leniency to adjust-" He broke off suddenly, screwing his eyes shut. "It's not important." He said, voice tight. "I'm here. That's what's important."
Amy's eyebrows furrowed together at her friend and his increasingly obvious state of being unwell.
"Why're you here?" Then, "What happened to you, Doctor?"
"Nothing." The Doctor quickly replied. "It's alright, Amy. Got a bit involved in something I shouldn't have. It's fine."
After nearly three years of living with the Doctor, Amy had learned how to read the man 'Nothing', meant 'something'. 'A bit involved', meant 'changed the entire operation'. 'Something I shouldn't have' meant 'was shot at and nearly killed twice'. And 'it's fine' meant 'it's really not fine at all'.
All in all, what the Doctor had just said was a rather worrying sentence.
And then he coughed. A horrible, wet noise sounded from him and he doubled over on himself. Just a second later he brought himself back up to face Amy. Tears rimmed his eyes and blood dripped from his mouth.
"...Sorry..." He muttered, nodding towards the doorstep, which now had a small puddle of blood next to it. Amy stared at the Time Lord, jaw clenched.
"What the hell have you done to yourself?!" She yelled.
"Nothing..." The Doctor murmured. Amy turned behind her, facing into the apartment. "RORY!" She called. She turned back to the Doctor. "You have exactly three seconds to tell me what's happened to you."
The Doctor glanced at Amy. Then, slowly, he retracted the hand that was over his stomach, his hand coming away bloody, jacket's already dark sleeve still darker with the crimson liquid. The front of the jacket that had been covering his chest and stomach fell away, revealing his ever present white button up shirt. Amy's eyes flashed to his stomach and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.
Interrupting his normally impeccable white shirt was a blossom of dark red in a mutilated imitation of a flower, at the center of it, a large wound, ragged flesh surrounding it. Amy stared at it for a moment; utterly repulsed but at the same time strangely fascinated.
Several things flashed through her mind.
First was the thought that the Time Lord was hurt rather more badly than she had initially thought.
Second, was the question of how the hell he was even standing with a would like that.
Third was the stark realization that no one, not even the Doctor, could survive something like that.
Amy took a slight step backwards, acutely aware that somewhere in the near future, the Doctor was going to be very dead. She was yanked from her train of thought by the Doctor coughing once more, a series of wet hacks. He shook violently, sinking to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth in what was now a steady stream.
'What in the name of-" Rory's voice sounded from behind Amy, causing the fiery redhead to turn around and face him. The nurse stopped right beside Amy, gaze trained on the man on his porch who was gasping for breath.
"Rory!" He greeted, forcing energy into his voice. "You're still around then. Good on you."
Rory blinked slightly, trying to process what he was seeing.
"...What's happened?" He asked, voice deadly calm as he turned to face his wife.
"He won't tell me-" Amy started, voice cracking before being cut off by the Doctor.
"Stabbed." He replied shortly. "Not important though, nothing you can do about it, not really."
Pause.
"...You're coughing up blood on my porch." Said Rory.
"Yes." The Doctor replied, voice tight.
"Dying." The Nurse pointed out.
"Most probably."
"And you're saying that there's nothing we can do about it? That it's not bloody important?!"
"Rory!" The Time Lord snapped impatiently. "Yes, I'm dying, no there's nothing you can do to stop it! Accept it!"
Silence.
"Why did you come here? Nevermind how, but why?" Asked Amy. There was a small yet immeasurable silence as the Doctor summoned the energy to look up at his friends, meeting their gaze.
"...You were the first faces that this face saw," He said, chosing each word with care. "And you're damn well going to be the last ones, too."
He gave a slight sniff and shifted his position to where he was sitting on the back of his feet, knees on the ground, facing his former companions.
"I'm sorry you're seeing this, I'm so sorry, but I-" He broke off, swallowing. "I just need to say thank you. For everything. You were always there for me, since the beginning, and I never thanked you, not properly, and that needs to be fixed. Thank you, Ponds."
"Oh, no," Said Rory. "You can't do this. You can't show up for the first time in years, and then just die."
"I'm not dying, not really." Said the Doctor. "Just...Changing."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rory demanded to know.
"I'm regenerating. This version of me dies, but I'm still alive. Just in a different body with a different personality."
"Why have you never told us that?!"
"Never needed to." The Doctor answered. "It would've just been confusing.
"...But you won't be yourself anymore." Amy said quietly.
"Of course I'll still be myself, Amy." The Doctor gently assured her. "I'll be a little different, sure, but I'll still be me."
"If you're just making that up-"
"I'm not."
Amy bit her lip slightly.
"Alright. I trust you."
The Doctor gave a small smile.
"Thank you." He said. He placed a hand on the ground, using it to steady himself as he pushed himself to his feet. He was able to remain unsupported on his feet for approximately no time at all before nearly falling, clasping his hand on the door frame once more.
"Right then. I'd best be off to the TARDIS, haven't got too much longer..."
"You can barely stand, Doctor." Said Rory. "There's no way you can make it all the way to the TARDIS."
Despite the Time Lord's murmured protests, Rory worked himself under the Doctor's arm, wrapping his own around his back and starting towards the blue box that resided on the opposite side of the paved street. They stopped, Amy beside them, and at the Doctor's direction, Rory reached into his (surprisingly spacious) outside pocket and retrieved the TARDIS key the Time Lord kept with him, still on a piece of string as a necklace as always, and stuck the key ito the lock, twisting it. Amy pushed the door open, revealing the interior of the TARDIS. Though it was different than she remembered it to be, she said nothing about it, instead helping the Doctor inside of his ship.
"I can handle it from here, Rory." Said the Doctor, once more leaning, though this time it was on the inside of the TARDIS walls, next to the ship's doors.
"You're sure?"
"Yes." Pause. "No. I need you to pull the zig-zag plotter, put it to four. And type 'qwerty' into the typewriter."
Rory started towards the console.
"What's that do, then?" He inquired, doing as the Time Lord had instructed.
"Puts us into the Time Vortex in just a few moments. Well, not 'us', obviously, but me at least."
The final button clanged on the typewriter and Rory took a step back, turning once more to face the Doctor, who at some point had fallen to his knees and was now staring at his hands with great intensity. Casting a quick glance at said hands, Rory noticed the presence of a faint golden hue surrounding them, almost as if it was being emitted from them.
"Doctor-"
"It's starting." The Time Lord declared, no room for argument left in his voice. With a clear effort he climbed to his feet once again, holding his upstanding position on his feet near the TARDIS doors, motioning to his former companions.
"Out." He said.
"You're just going to regenerate and run off and that's it? We're never going to see you again?" Asked Amy, incredulous
"Of course you'll see me again!" The Doctor answered.
Pause.
"You'll visit?"
"Of course I'll visit!"
"Are you lying?"
"Possibly."
Amy groaned.
"You can't just drop by-"
"Getting here just the once was nearly impossible, there's not a chance I can ever do it again." The Doctor explained. Amy set her jaw.
"But you can get to other places around here, yeah?"
"Yes."
"Right then. You know that little cafe with the fancy Italian name on fifth avenue, New York City?"
"Yeah."
"Course you do. You meet us there, one week from now, three o'clock. Agreed?"
The Doctor gave a short nod.
"Yes, yes, fine."
"Promise?"
"On fish fingers and custard." The Doctor agreed. "Now out! This isn't safe!"
"Alright." Said Amy, glancing her friend up and down for one last time. "One week from now, Raggedy Man. Come on, Rory." She said, stepping out of the TARDIS. Rory followed suite, starting towards the door.
"You're just going to skip straight to next week, aren't you?" He questioned. The Time Lord flashed a smile. Rory rolled his eyes. "See you later, then, I suppose."
He exited the ships and the Doctor stepped in front of the singular open door. He let his companion's gaze for what he knew would be the last time with these eyes, though it most definitely would not truly be the last time.
He hesitated a moment before allowing a wide grin to light up his features.
"Geronimo!"
He closed the door.
Tried to end on a relatively happy note, and I think I did okay. On something. For once. Anywho, if you could leave a review, that would absolutely make my day; anything you've got to say about this would be appreciated. And even if you don't leave a review, thanks for reading, have a fantastic day, and DFTBA!