Something I put on tumblr a while ago and thought I should put here. :)
Madge was just like his mother. She was brave and loving and beautiful. Of course he would do as she said. Throughout it all he was his mother's child, and he would always listen to her. He always had, even if it meant condemning her to a thousand deaths repeated over and over. She had been one of two dissenters in his whole race, and he had listened to her over them. Because she was right and always had done what was right and good.
She was perfect, like his mother. He could see her smiling back at him. That was something he hadn't seen in centuries, his mother's love. He could still remember her look and how her eyes would light up when he would occasionally drop home. God, he wished he had done that more.
So when she told him to go see his friends, how could he tell her no? When she hugged him, how could he say yes and lie? He knew she was right; she was like his mother, who was always right. He would listen, because he always did. It wasn't quite the same, but it was the closest he was ever going to get, and he knew it.
And of course he would go see Amy and Rory because he knew it was best for him. He wanted to, he missed them. Mother always knew best.