okay here i go and try to write a new fanfic. This time its Doctor who! get excited. Me, personally? I'm nervous and hopeful for this because i have rather bad luck in much fan fics other than Robin Hood and Twilight. But i really love the new season of Doctor who. I love the relationship between Amy and 11. Makes me happy. So guys this is set after "Victory of the Daleks." Very Very VERY AU. The Doctor brings Amy home because he's worried that she won't be safe with him.

Disclaimer: Don't own Doctor Who at ALL!! love Matt smith though, but dont' own him either (obviously)

Return to Me, My Love

Chapter One: The Leaving of All Hope

Amy Pond blinked. She opened her eyes and took a sharp intake of breath, seeing that she was in her own home, in her own time, and in her own life.

She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had dreamt up everything.

Everything from Prisoner Zero, the world ending, Starship UK, and the Daleks, to his miserable sonic screwdriver and the TARDIS…

To him.

Amy stood up now and walked to the closet in her room to take out the white gown that seemed to glare at her. It dared her to wear it today, to make a mockery of the union she had been planning to enter into until he had shown up. Until he had shown her an entire world, a galaxy which was greater than she could ever have imagined. Which was greater than anything she had ever known, or dared to dream.

She sighed and looked darkly at the white dress.

Suppose it was ripped somehow…wedding would have to be postponed, wouldn't it?

Amy shook her head. It was daft to think of that. She wasn't a child anymore, able to escape from things if they weren't just as she wanted them, if they weren't just right.

As she began to dress herself, she remembered a little girl, with fierce red hair and freckles who had hidden herself under the bed…

I don't WANT to see him, she had yelled. That doctor thinks I'm crazy!

Little Amelia Pond couldn't hear the reassuring murmurs of the grownups as their whispered hushes tried to travel through her locked door, and underneath her bed.

The child lay on her stomach in the darkness playing with the dolls she had made one night when she couldn't sleep. She had closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts on him, the Doctor, the mysterious, kind stranger, who had tried to fix the scary crack in the wall.

And then she had gone to work, creating his image out of socks, out of twine, out of buttons, out of the multiple things that cluttered her room.

So that now, she could pretend he was there again, that he was real, she had not dreamt him up to create an imaginary friend.

And, Amelia was certain, if he was an imaginary friend, he was, by far, better than any of her real friends that did not disappear inside telephone booths.

Now Amy, all grown up, began to feel that she very much wanted to crawl under the bed again and play with her toys.

She stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself in her wedding dress. It looked so stiff, and, moreover, she looked stiff and uncomfortable wearing it, as if she was forced to pose for a painting. Amy had bought the dress a while ago, never really thinking that she'd ever have to wear it one day for real.

Bloody cold feet.

But Amy knew it wasn't a case of cold feet, or jitters, or even butterflies.

But…of a bruised heart.

Amy put on her earrings, remembering what The Doctor had told her when the TARDIS had landed in the middle of her bedroom last night. His face, usually full of a smile or a grin, was very serious as the two of them walked into her room.

I don't want to come back here, she had said quietly. There's nothing for me here.

The Doctor walked around her room, saying nothing, taking note of the furniture, the crack, and surveying everything there was to see.

He stopped when he reached her closet.

Amy had bitten her lip.

You're hiding something in here, he said. Something you don't want people to see, something you don't want to see.

Amy blinked. Doctor, how—?

He smiled at her. Door's closed, first clue. If you live alone, why close your closet?

The girl shrugged.

The Doctor began to open the door. Amy took a sharp intake of breath. But, in a flash, the Doctor had seen the dress. Amy had sort of hoped, in a small girlish fantasy, that his face would somehow show a sign of upset, or disapproval. She nearly begged him to be angry with her, for keeping this a secret. That way she would know…

You are getting married, he said somberly. It was more of a statement than a question.

Yes.

When?

Tomorrow, she answered.

The Doctor nodded. This is just another reason why you cannot come with me anymore.

Amy, annoyed, crossed her arms and walked closer to the Doctor. He did not touch the dress, but just stared at it.

You still haven't mentioned the first reason.

The Doctor had slowly turned to face Amy. Everything I do, everything I see, everywhere I go…is dangerous. You could get hurt. The Doctor closed the closet door.

Amy grinned a bit. You worried about me?

Worried that your fiancée would be left all alone, he answered.

Rory.

The nurse?

Yes.

The Doctor looked, to Amy at least, like he wanted to say something, anything. But, instead he turned away from her and walked back to the TARDIS. Amy had known that in a minute, he would be gone forever from her life.

Doctor!

He turned back and gave Amy that smile that sent a surge of warmth, uncontrollable happiness into her body. Yes?

I'll miss you, she said. She had intended for it to be less sad and melancholy than it came out.

The Doctor sighed. He brushed a bit of hair from his face.

The Daleks escaped, I let my guard down, just for one second and…

Amy raised a brow. You saved the planet Doctor, and yourself along with it, that's not nothing.

He nodded. Take care of yourself. Be good to Moray.

Amy smiled. Rory.

Sure. He opened the door of the TARDIS and stepped inside. He turned around and leaned his head against the side of the door. Goodbye Amelia.

Will I ever see you again?

It won't be like last time, he said with a certain edge to his voice she had not heard before. I won't be back in five minutes. And I won't be back in twelve years. And if I do come back then… He touched his face thoughtfully, and pulled at a strand of his hair.

I won't know it's you?

Live your life Amy, he said quietly.

Then the door to the TARDIS closed abruptly. Amy watched as it, like a puff of smoke, like a fog, like rainbow, faded and was suddenly gone.

A knock on the door jolted Amy from her thoughts and she turned abruptly towards the door. A small, childish thought washed through her, half expecting, half hoping, that the Doctor himself would waltz in through the door.

"Come in," she said.

Instead of the Doctor, Rory, dressed in a suit and tie walked in. He looked at her, blinked, and then put his hands to his eyes.

Amy looked quizzically at Rory. "What is it? Have I got something on my face?"

"Shouldn't see you before the wedding," clarified her fiancée. "Bad luck and all."

Superstitions and traditions, Amy heard a familiar voice in her head say, they're what make you all so…human.

Instead of dwelling on him for much longer, Amy smiled and laughed a bit.

"You can look Rory," she said. "Nothing bad will happen."

Rory uncovered his eyes and laughed at himself. He looked at his bride to be. "Are you feeling alright?"

Amy blinked. "Why?"

Rory shrugged. He, himself, wasn't feeling to happy come to think of it. He was supposed to be happy though, he reasoned to himself. He was getting married after all, to a girl he loved very much. Well, he assumed he loved her. They had been friends as children, had grown up together, had dated as teenagers…during that time, somewhere in there, he probably fell in love with her.

He just didn't quite remember when he had fallen in love with her.

Rory fixed his tie. "No reason, you just seem sad."

"Maybe I'll miss this room too much," suggested Amy.

Rory looked around the room, noticing how greatly his presence was still in here. Even after all this time, even after everything...

Rory sighed. He was going to be a man about this. They were not children anymore.

"Amy," he said, trying to sound very commanding.

"Yes?"

Rory took a breath. "I know you always have had sort of a crush on someone."

"Oh?"

"Yes, anyway, that was all well and good when we were little. Children are able to get away with such fairytales and things. But-but…" He had never been this demanding before, especially not with her. But he was marrying her today, they would be man and wife for the rest of their lives.

"But?" asked Amy.

"But not now, all of this, it has to end Amy. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Don't make me explain it anymore…don't let me get angrier…

Rory hadn't realized how long he had held onto this inferiority complex. For so long he had felt like he was in second place to this godlike man, this Doctor, who could travel through time and space as easily as one snapped his fingers.

"He can't come back Amy," he said not giving her a chance say anything.

Amy said nothing.

Rory blinked. "He isn't coming back, is it?"

"No," she said hugging herself. As she did so, a bit of the gown ripped. Though it was a very small, very unnoticeable rip, Amy heard the very sharp, very angry noise clearly. "He's not coming back, not ever."

Rory offered his hand to Amy.

"Let's get married," he said. "I'll drive to the church."

And as he said those words, as both he and Amy stood in her room, they could not have imagined that at that very moment, there was a telephone booth floating and tossing around in the complexities of time and space.

Inside of the TARDIS the Doctor continued moving switches and pushing buttons quickly. He was trying to forget things, trying to forget people…

Trying to forget her.

He cursed at the crushing sadness, at the fear, and the smothering melancholia, coursing through him. These were human feelings, these were human emotions. The Daleks would have thought them to be human weaknesses.

And these same feelings were now in the Doctor…an alien.

The Doctor tried to remember why he was alone, why he had put himself in this position of bitterness and unhappiness.

He had been faced with a decision: kill the Daleks forever and rid the universe of them, or…save the earth.

Not that he was a big fan of killing 6 billion innocent people, but he knew that the Daleks would go on to destroy all the universes and all the galaxies that they could. He had saved six billion people that day, on that one planet, but he had put the lives of six trillion beings in danger.

The Doctor hung his head very low.

All because of her…

Obviously, obviously he hadn't saved an entire planet only because of her. It wasn't that if she didn't exist, he wouldn't have chosen to save earth, rather than kill the Daleks. But, the Doctor knew, it was the fact that the first thought that wafted into his mind was of her, of Amy, dead. Crying out in fear and then silenced forever, while he did nothing except watch it all unfold in space.

Of course he didn't want her to bloody leave him!

He wished that they could keep traveling together for the rest of eternity. But, there was a very bad streak of his companions coming into the TARDIS and, at the end of the day, he was the only one who walked out of it. The Doctor would always be there, somewhere, just in a different body or form, but she, brilliant Amelia Pond, would not always exist.

She could get killed because of him, all it took was one stupid mistake, one wrong turn, one tiny little error.

And…as if that wasn't bad enough, as if that wasn't the worst possible thing that could happen…

"She's getting married," he said to the TARDIS who was always there to listen and never judge.

The Doctor shook his head and tisked. He was not about to fall in love with a human, he just wasn't going to let himself. New body, new wardrobe, new EVERYTHING…but still the same Doctor. Still the same creeping human feelings that seemed to catch up to him. Still the same rush of pain mixed with happiness when looking into her eyes.

"You're 907 years-old," he reminded himself. "And she's…not."

Thinking about an age difference didn't help. When the Doctor closed his eyes he still saw her face, smiling at him.

He could put the entire universe in jeopardy, in chaos, if it meant saving her. He'd put his own life on the line…it was meaningless anyway if she wasn't in the world, somewhere.

"What am I saying?!" He yelled abruptly.

It was at that moment, at that very instant, that he felt a pang of regret. He felt this searing, sharp, and piercing feeling in his gut that made him feel like he had done the wrong thing by leaving her there, in her little room.

The Doctor wanted to go back, back to that moment in her room when she said she would miss him. And he wanted to hold her in his arms, and whisper that he would miss her too. He would think about her every day, whether he wanted to or not. To him, her eyes were brighter than the millions of stars around the TARDIS, and her laugh filled the empty and soundless void of space.

Saving the world's not too shabby, she had told him.

The Doctor had looked at her. He had smiled kindly. And his only thought was this: Saving you is more than enough.

That was why she couldn't travel with him anymore. That was why he had put her back in her own time and instructed her to marry that bloody Dory.

Rory, he heard her voice correct kindly.

Who bloody cares anyway?

And while the Doctor fiddled absentmindedly with the buttons and switches, he didn't notice that a wormhole, a serious and disruptive hole in the fabric of time was slowly approaching the TARDIS. One of the most terrifying things about a wormhole is the same fear one feels when discussing a black hole.

No one ever knows what's on the other side?

A black hole at least, a person assumes, is eternal emptiness.

But a wormhole?

There is no control of when or where a wormhole will lead you. It might not even be a true reality awaiting the traveler once he reaches the other side. And, what's more, this was a very special very dangerous kind of wormhole. If the Doctor had been watching he would have noticed this as well.

This wormhole grew and thrived on the fears and feelings of things around it. It was like a trap that some very unkind being had unleashed into the outward reaches of space. Not only was the victim spend swirling and spinning through space without any control.

But the other side, the end of the wormhole, the bottom of the rabbit hole, promised only nightmares and fears. And these fears seemed much more real and tangible than the crooked crack in the wall, or the smilers who brought doom…because they touched every being who fell through them differently.

It was a very clever wormhole.

It was a very deadly wormhole.

The Doctor had no idea what he was getting into. But, as he realized that the TARDIS was slowly getting sucked into a very nasty predicament, he swore that he could have heard a woman screaming in his ear.

A woman who sounded very much like Amy Pond.

WOOW! Wonder what's on the other side of that?? comments??? thoughts??? that would all be lovely!