Summary: " 'River, it's important! Your mother, Amelia - she asked me to go back, back to when she was a child, to do something for her.' " So how exactly did that conversation between young Amelia and the Doctor play out? Set directly after The Angels Take Manhattan; faint Eleven/River; one-shot.
A/N: I've had this written for months, but I never got around to proofreading and publishing it. I was curious about how this scene would go ever since The Angels Take Manhattan, so I decided to write it.
And do one more thing for me.
There's a little girl waiting in a garden. She's going to wait a long while, so she's going to need a lot of hope. Go to her - tell her a story. Tell her that if she's patient, the days are coming that she'll never forget.
Tell her, this is the story of Amelia Pond. And this is how it ends.
Those words kept repeating in the Doctor's head as dashed back into the blue box, folding Amy's afterword and shoving it into his pocket. He set those familiar coordinates in the TARDIS console; his hands were shaking, his mind was spinning, and he could just barely hear River's voice calling from some other part of the TARDIS - "Doctor, what are you doing now?"
"River, it's important!" he exclaimed as River appeared in the console room. "Your mother, Amelia - she asked me to go back, back to when she was a child, to do something for her. She wrote it in the afterword of her novel that you haven't asked her to write yet!"
River was more than a bit confused, but she let him continue. She leaned against the railing, watching as the Doctor frantically piloted the TARDIS. She almost told him not to go, that he shouldn't - that whatever Amy had told him to do was a bad idea, that he couldn't interact Amy's timeline yet again. But she didn't - maybe he needed to do this. And maybe, just maybe, she needed it too.
"Leadworth, England, 1996," the Doctor said, his voice shaking - whether it was from anticipation or heartbreak, he wasn't completely sure - but there was no turning back now.
He's not going to come back for me, is he? Amelia thought, closing her eyes dejectedly. Another letdown. What a surprise.
It was freezing cold. It was seven in the morning. The morning sun was shining down on her. And there was no sign of him. So much for five minutes, Amelia Pond thought, a burning feeling behind her eyes as she felt tears threatening to fall.
But then she heard it - that sound, the sound she'd heard last night. That same, screeching noise. She looked up into the sky, grinning, because this would only mean one thing. Her Raggedy Doctor had returned.
That peculiar blue box landed in her yard, right next to the broken shed - this time, it looked quite a bit more put together, although the paint seemed to be quite a bit more scratched. Then again, maybe she was imagining things. She was overexcited. It was hard to tell.
The doors to the box flew open, and out stepped the same man - although he was wearing clothes that were very, very different. And his eyes looked red - just a bit. Had he been crying?
Amelia stood up, her face breaking into a grin as she picked up her suitcase and started towards the police box. In return, however, the Doctor merely stepped out of the blue box and gave her a faint, ghost of a smile.
"Not today, Pond," he said quietly, watching sadly as Amelia's eager grin faded. "No, not today. Not yet."
"But why not?" the young redhead insisted, her grip on her suitcase tightening. "I'm all ready - and you said five minutes. It's been at least five hours."
"And you waited out here all night," the Doctor replied, smiling weakly at the young girl as she nodded. "Good old Pond."
Because it was. This was Amelia Pond. The little girl, growing up in an English village, who would keep that distinct Scottish accent for her entire life. That lovely girl who would turn out to be so, so brave. Amelia Pond: the girl who waited.
Amelia Pond. There just so happened to be another woman in New York City with that exact name. It was the same woman. There was Amelia Pond, the young child in Leadworth, England - and then there was Amelia Williams, the author from New York CIty. She was married to Rory Williams, sent back to a foreign time by the Weeping Angels...
"Why can't I come with you?" she asked once again, interrupting his train of thought. And this time, her voice was hurt. The Doctor bent down in front of her, giving her the most genuine smile that he could manage.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I really am. But you will - someday, in your future. And we are going to have the best of times, I promise you." He paused, putting his hand into his jacket pocket and pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper.
Afterword, by Amelia Williams, it read. He put on Amy's reading glasses.
"And someday," he said, his voice quiet and steady, "you'll visit places you couldn't even imagine. I promise, we will have the most amazing adventures, you and I. You'll see pirates, a whale in outer space, actual, living Romans..." The Doctor trailed off, a lump forming in his throat.
"But not yet," he finished softly, giving the young girl a pat on the shoulder. "No, not just yet, Amelia Pond. But be patient, because those times are coming. Those irreplaceable, unforgettable times, they make up the story of Amelia Pond - and I can't wait."
Amelia stared at the Doctor for a moment, letting his words sink in. She looked into his eyes, feeling the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile, and she nodded once. Before she could say anything else, a strange curly-haired woman stepped out of the blue box. She stood behind the Doctor and placed a hand on his shoulder. She whispered a few short words into his ear, and the Doctor's faint smile faded. Amelia couldn't help but wonder why.
"I'll see you soon, Pond," her Raggedy Doctor replied. Amelia nodded once, feeling her heart drop a bit - she really didn't want him to go. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her one of the tightest hugs she'd ever received. Then, without another word, he disappeared, back into the magic box, before she could even reply.
The door closed behind him, sealing the Doctor off from Amelia Pond - stubborn, firey Amelia Pond - for the last time. The very, very last time. He leaned against the TARDIS doors, closing his eyes tightly felt a single tear roll down his face. He quickly brushed it away, folding up the small piece of paper and pulling off his reading glasses, placing them both back into his pocket as he felt the TARDIS take off. He opened one eye, his gaze falling on River, who was standing at the console, silently piloting the ship.
"Doctor, it's not over for you," River told him after a few endless moments of silence. When he didn't reply to her, she stepped away from the console and took a few steps closer to him, continuing, "Of course you're upset - that's fine, it's normal. But there are still people out there who care-"
"And one day, they'll all be gone, as well, River," the Doctor shouted, looking up at her. He stormed past her and went up to the console, slamming his hands angrily against its surface.
"Doctor-"
"River, don't," he interrupted, his voice flat, monotone. Because whatever she said, whatever consoling words she tried to use, nothing would help. Not only were Amy and Rory gone, but River was already gone, as well - since the Library. And it wasn't just them. Rose was sealed away in a parallel universe, Martha was happily married, he could never speak to Donna again, or else her brain would be completely friend.
Everyone. Gone.
"Maybe it's best if you go for now," he said quietly, a sense of finality in his voice. "I want you to go, River. I may not be the most pleasant person to be around right now." River opened her mouth to object, but decided against it. Instead, she entered a few more coordinates into the console, and brought the TARDIS to a smooth landing. She headed for the doors wordlessly, pausing just as she touched the door handle.
"Just one more thing, Doctor," she said calmly, looking over her shoulder. He looked down at her, and she gave him a weak smile. "Don't be alone for too long. Keep yourself safe."
He nodded once. And with that, she slid silently through the doors.
He was alone once again.
Just as he always was, in the end.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. The ending was originally a lot happier, but happiness is overrated.