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A/N- The Doctor hates goodbyes.
Please R&R
Just a short one shot.
_
I met a strange girl, when she was at the young age of seven.
She ran out, like a loon, despite the weather, in her night gown and rain boots, a flashlight in hand, as she approached the strange box that landed in her yard, breaking, my TARDIS- and she didn't even walk away in questionable fear as I climbed out of it, smiling, greeting her.
She kept looking at me, as if I was a normal existing life form who had done something out of character. As if what had happened wasn't strange enough.
Amelia Jessica Pond, the girl who waited.
She led me inside without question, fed me food. This strange girl, all the dangers that could have happened if I were some homicidal stranger- and yet, she was as calm as one could wonder.
Apples, no apples are rubbish. Yogurt, no, it has those little bits. Something Scottish, bacon. Was she trying to make a zombie of me? Beans, and a tossed sandwich. Finally, fish fingers and custard. It's settled. So I ate, fed my new body as she ate ice cream, watching a strange man do strange things, as if she wasn't strange enough for allowing me in.
Funny how there were no banana's.
I asked her where her parents where.
"I live with me aunt."
I asked her where she was.
"She's out."
I wondered why her aunt left her all alone.
"I'm not scared."
"'Course you're not! You're not afraid of anything. Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of the box, man eats fish custard. And look at you, just sitting there. So you know what I think?" I asked.
She shook her head. "What?"
A fascinated smile spread onto my lips. "Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall."
And her green eyes grew wide.
There was a crack in her wall. A crack that changed the course of many events. A dangerous crack that almost rid me from existence.
I said five minutes. I said I'd be right back.
She frowned, looking to me. "People always say that."
Immediately I leveled with her, looking into her eyes. "Am I people? Do I even look like people?" I paused, and smiled. "Trust me, I'm The Doctor."
I asked her to trust me. I came back 12 years later, and met with a teenage red head with a British accent, and green eyes, hair hidden under a uniform hat. A girl that was nineteen, and it wasn't until I noticed the repaired shed of twelve years, that I realized it was little Amelia Pond, who went by Amy now, who was strong and brave, brash and callous, and a girl who kissed others with odd costumes.
That's the girl I left behind, who waited for twelve years, who faced four psychiatrists.
I left again, and promised a return after the job was done, after prisoner Zero was caught, after he warned me of The Silence, leaving me wondering as I returned to my cooking Tardis, repaired herself, regenerated, taking it for a quick test drive, a nice spin.
I had come back, two years later.
I assured that she was coming, fourteen years since fish custard, and that accent was still strong. Oh yeah, I decided, she was coming. And tomorrow we'd return and I'd drop her off for, ass she put it, 'nothing, nothing. Just, you know, stuff', and I spun, prepping for lift off. "Alright then. Back in time for stuff."
I watched her grow. We traveled various places. I watched her scream, run, laugh, smile, cry, die. Hardly was she honestly angry. Instead, every moment, she was thrilled, saved for the sad moments, when her heart would slowly break.
I watched this teenage girl marry at such a young age, marry a young man who wasn't that much of a looker, but became a genuine hero. Rory Williams, or rather Rory Pond, the centurion who waited. A fellow of 2000 years of age, and add his human years. A man older then me- how odd, and eventually, my father in law, and I married the daughter of Amy Pond.
A spunky women, who was taken at birth, to kill me. A woman who could regenerate, who grew up with the Pond's, as Melody, later influencing the name, essentially giving it to herself by having it. It's all confusing, not a straight line.
She went by River Song, and she could regenerate. But once she saved me, she could no longer continue to live an immortal life as I.
My mother in law, who slept for two thousand years, Amelia Pond, the start of something great, the mother of River Song, the wife of the lone centurion Rory, and my companion.
I watched her age, as I knew she was not immortal. Despite being so great, despite having such a strong moment in my current life, she was merely human.
It was at around twenty four years of age that she had decided that she could no longer travel with me. There was a life with Rory, and he trusted that her daughter would need me. And to her, that was enough.
I watched as she became thirty four.
She and Rory had another child at the age of thirty.
She was worried that River would feel a gaping hole in her chest, since she was taken at such a young age, raised without love, trained to become a dangerous soldier by the Silence. Then given another life as her mothers child hood friend. She never received the love of mother to child.
But when River found out, she was okay with it, and instead, she nurtured it whenever she came to visit. But her visits were becoming scarce, though she wouldn't tell me why.
When Amy became forty, I had to tell them that River had died.
Time was hardly linear. I had yet regenerated, because in my time stream, days were years to the Pond's. I was still in my 11th notable state. I would try to go in a pattern in which I could meet them whenever I pleased, but time was tricky, and I could sometimes hardly get it right.
Besides the tea and jammy dodgers, were conversations of our adventures- some in which Amy had mistakenly told when I had yet experienced them- thus proving that my time with her was becoming hardly linear.
She blamed me for River's death. And I blamed myself as well. While River had the abilities of a Time Lord, and I repeat- had, she was not able to regenerate. She was shot in the stomach. And there was nothing that could be done.
She was smiling up towards me, as blood lightly dripped from her lips as she coughed lightly. Her green eyes looked to mine, and then, I watched as life left her. I tried my hardest to give her a loving expression as her last, as the last thing she would see, reassuring that I would do nothing foolish.
I broke after she died in my arms, after that last breath, when her eyes grew dark.
I had passed weeks without going to see the Pond's and their new child once I told them the news and how it happened.
It was another adventure, another call for help. I was running in the hallways of a rather colossal marble building the color of caramel and bronze. Then out of nowhere, she came, as I ran from a chase. She stepped into the range of fire from a lone soldier who was ordered to shoot me.
Somewhere, in my mind, I'm sure she did it to save me. The foolish woman. I was going to get angry at her, I was going to remind her that I could regenerate after a bullet wound. But I didn't. I held her and watched.
When I gathered my wits, in curiosity to their well being, I returned to the home of the Pond's. And found that they were, fortunately, still living in the same home.
I had seen an old Amy before, when she waited for twenty years, for me and Rory to save her. So when I saw her at forty again I wasn't all too bothered by the fact that she was aging.
I knocked on the door, ready to see the same Amy I left behind. But my brows furrowed in question when the person who answered the door, with hair as flaringly red, I noticed the younger face, and blue eyes. Amy's were green, I remembered.
"I'm… Looking for Amelia Jessica Pond?" I asked with a light tilt of my head, looking over her shoulder and inside.
The women leaned against the door frame. "I'm Jessica River Pond. Amelia Jessica Pond is my mother. She used to live here."
I nodded slowly. "Right... Do you know where I could find her?"
She looked at me rather oddly, observing me. But her brows relaxed and her eyes grew slightly wide. "It's you." And she began to gloat. I nodded and shrugged off a few comments and ecstatic squeals. But then she settled, and seemed somewhat bothered. "Mum and dad moved out to the country a few years ago. Mum's health wasn't doing so good. She couldn't live in the city anymore."
My face minutely fell, and I asked if she could tell me where they lived now.
She seemed hesitant, as if I had wronged her. But eventually, she led me inside, and asked me to wait as she fetched a notepad to write the address down. I asked for coordinates rather, and after a frustrated sigh and roll of the eyes, she managed to find them via phone and wrote them down.
I looked to the note as I walked out. After a few steps down, I looked to her. Last I saw her, she was ten. "How old are you now, Jessica?" I asked, concern clearly laced in my voice.
She shrugged. "Thirty four."
I nodded, thanked her almost silently, and left.
As I slowly shut the door behind me, I leaned against it, slowly turning to face the console, brows risen, face riddled with concern and fear. Amy was ill, and by now, she was sixty four.
I slowly made my way towards the controls, eyes fallen, mouth slightly open. My lids almost fell heavily over my eyes. My hands sloppily pressed against buttons and gripped against things that flicked and turned. Could I deal with this?
Sarah Jane had aged as well. I saw that. So why was I afraid?
Was it because I had realized that being sixty four and ill wasn't usually a good sign? Was it because I would have to see her much older then when I last saw Sarah Jane?
Perhaps it was because the red in her hair might be gone, and the young smoothness in her skin would now be wrinkles.
My hand lay over the crank, a loose grip, as I thought it through. I looked to the screen, indicating the coordinates I typed into the typewriter. Could I do this?
My eyes barely pulled away from the screen, and a breath hardly reached my lungs as I pulled the crank, and the Tardis spoke, indicating that I was now traveling towards the destination.
The big blue box landed at least a mile away from a solitary home, blue and large enough for a family of two. A small smile formed on my lips. A house, a blue house, a fair sized blue house built over beautiful green grass. I glanced to the Tardis behind me.
So they never disregarded it in the end.
I walked, slowly, despite my mind flaring, screaming, banging, as my questions grew strong and my curiosity out of hand.
It felt like seconds before I was at the door, before I realized it at least, me too deep in my thoughts.
My hand hovered over the door, balled and edging towards the wood, ready to knock. It took me a few minutes to gather myself. But I eventually did it, and eventually, a young Rory answered the door.
I felt as though my hearts sank. This wasn't an indication that Amy was still young, because she had moved out the country not too long after her illness. Which meant that Rory was incapable of aging, as I thought, as I hoped wouldn't be true.
He had that stupid look of surprise on his face, as if he was going to choke and die on his own words. But it soon changed into that of anger, disapproval.
He stepped out and closed the door behind him, looking to me, considering my expression before he began to lecture and curse at me.
And after his ramble, I could only look away, and tell him that the reason I ignored her order to never see her again after River, their daughter and friend died, was because I couldn't help but blame myself. Because I was frightened. Because I didn't want to lose someone else, as I already had, more then once.
He was still angry, it was apparent in his face. But after giving me a few more of his thoughts, he let me in.
My shoes audibly tapped against the ground as my feet took heavy, slow strides, my eyes looking to the nearly bare walls the whole time. It looked too sterile.
"How is she?" I asked.
His feet stopped, and he turned to look at me. "Not good. Not only is she ill, but she's stressing herself about, well…." His hand showcased himself. I nodded, he meant the apparent age different that wasn't all true. "She keeps going on about how I should leave her because I looked twenty five. And how inappropriate it is for a seemingly twenty five year old male to be with a seventy five year old woman." He shook his head, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
He kept going for awhile, before he noticed the silence behind him, eyes towards me, honestly confused. "Doctor?-"
"Excuse me, can you repeat yourself?"
His brows furrowed as he pulled his head back lightly. His face turned lightly. "Sorry wha-"
"Seventy five, you said seventy five." I closed the gap in between us, eyes darting, looking to his eyes. "I met Jessica Rover Pond, your daughter, just a few minutes ago. She said she was thirty four, which would make Amy sixty four-"
"Jessica's forty four now." He interrupted, seemingly confused.
My eyes stayed with his for awhile before they slowly pulled away, wide, as they looked to the ground, searching for something I couldn't possibly find.
Our time was now separated by gaps.
He turned and led me to her room.
And I stood beside the frame outside for a few seconds before I decided I could enter and face the facts.
The rooms were a warm and soft color of cyan blue. The ground was covered with white tiles. There were no decorations, no source of entertainment. In the center, against a wall that was covered with medical appliances, under the pale vanilla arch, sat a hospital bed. And in that hospital bed, lay Amelia Pond.
I hadn't realized I stopped breathing as I stood at the door, my eyes slightly side as I stared, seemingly horrified, at the sleeping figure in the bed, sitting against the angle. Rory walked up to her and messed with some wires, or IV's as they call it, before walking back towards me.
Her head lay to the side, hair a fading orange, mostly grey and white. She still had the face of the girl I've always known, and as I last remembered. But she had more wrinkles. So much so, she was becoming unrecognizable.
"She'll wake up soon." Rory whispered behind me. I nodded towards him and he stepped out.
I looked to his feet as he left before I gathered the strength to look up.
She was pale, almost the color of her white blankets. And despite it all, despite the sound of the machines, rhythmically singing every heart beat, she seemed completely peaceful.
I spotted the chair beside the bed. And took upon the liberty to sit there until she woke up, waiting for her green eyes to open, for that head to lull lightly.
It took minutes, and during the wait, I would watch her chest rise and fall, as if reassuring the fact that she was still alive.
Her eyes rolled behind closed lids, struggling to wake, and slowly, her head rose, as it turned lightly, seemingly confused, but soon gathering. Her head centered against the pillow as she stared at the wall across from her, but then, she seemed to freeze, her body going tense.
"Amy?" I called out, lightly.
She knew I was there, her green eyes slowly turning towards me as her head did, eyes wide- that all to memorable expression.
I tried to force a smile, but it came out sloppy, and I looked sad. "Hey there." I said softly. "Long time. Hope I didn't keep you waiting."
She blinked, once, twice, then tears collected. Her face seemed alive as he fell forward lightly, looking towards me, mouth agape. "Doc-…-ter?" She sounded dehydrated. I was trying to lie to myself however. Because I knew that was the voice of a fairly aged woman.
I would never hear that crisp young voice, I realized.
My head fell forward lightly, before it rose, eyes to hers, an angled smile. "Yes, Amelia, it's me."
Words weren't spoken afterwards. And instead, she cried, and continued crying, as I gripped her cold and wrinkled hand.
It took every cell of my being to not fall and break down in sobs as well. I sat there, eyes dewed, as I stared at her breaking face, noting every crease, every wrinkle, every difference. I as terrified, I was sad, I didn't want to lose her. I didn't want her to be human.
I wanted her to regenerate, be seemingly young forever. I didn't want this. I didn't want to see her like this. Amelia Pond, the girl who waited and traveled through time and space. The girl who was strong and animated and brave- now lay in a hospital bed weak, still and fragile.
After awhile she seemed to settle, as my fingers traced against her pale skin.
"Doctor?" She asked weakly. I slowly looked up. "Do you think that we could go on adventures again?"
And I almost broke.
My eyes looked to hers for awhile before they looked away.
"I mean," She added. "Me be young again, travel in the Tardis with you, on adventures as the young girl I was years ago."
I shook my head slowly, lightly, then looked away before I gathered to look to her, who stared at the sheets over her legs. She gave a small smile, knowing the answer before she asked.
"It's because I'm an old hag now, isn't it?" She teased.
But it bothered me. "No." I nearly snapped, but gathered myself. "That's not it, and never will be the case." I looked to the bed and machines. "It's because you're ill. I can't risk losing you because of your health." I added.
She nodded and looked away, a long sigh leaving her. "That's a shame."
I was silent for awhile. How could I respond to that? Lie? Instead I answered with the truth. "I can always go back in time, and meet you, and take you on new adventures."
She looked to me with a large smile. "But no matter what, I'd still be here, in this hospital bed. I wouldn't be the girl in those adventures. I'd still be here, not experiencing any of those adventures. They'd be new fond memories, just like the rest." She bowed her head lightly. "Only new memories that I would wish to re-experience, as I reminiscence, dying-"
I grit my teeth, eyes close as my head fell. "D-… Don't say that-"
"But it's true Doctor." She stated, but rather then harshly, she said it with serene calmness. And when I looked up, there was sympathy in her eyes.
I couldn't help myself. I cried.
After I settled, she'd make me laugh as she told me the stories of the trips she remembered with me. The bits of where she'd trip, fall, mess up, say or do something silly. Rory joined in after awhile, and it was like old times. Me and the Pond's, laughing with great smiles, traveling, headed to our next adventure, unsure of the destinations.
Eventually, though, Amy grew tired, and Rory told me he had to help her back to sleep. I nodded, and stood, kissing Amy's forehead before I looked to her.
She smiled, and I tried to smile back, but failed, miserably. I bid a temporary farewell, and promised I'd return in a day or two.
She only nodded, and waved as best she could, as Rory watched me leave before tending back to the IV's.
When back in the Tardis, I fixed the time and place, so that after my next task was settled, I'd come back and do as we did a few minutes ago.
Suddenly, the idea wasn't all too frightening.
As promised, I returned, and I wore a stupid Stetson to brighten the mood, bringing souvenirs from the planet I just visited that exists 4700 years from now.
I beamed as I opened the door and looked out to find the green grass and blue house- just as I had left it.
My strides did not falter like last time, and I used my sonic screwdriver to open the door, to come in unannounced, deciding that our friendship was well enough for such rude behavior.
"Rory! Amy! I'm back!" I yelled into the house as I stepped in, closing the door behind me, wondering if it was a good idea to take the hat off, as a custom- but decided against it as I head down the familiar hall loudly.
I reached the room, door closed, me guessing to keep the room inside as sterile as possible for her health- I knocked lightly.
I heard the sound of feet shuffling against the ground, and the doors knob shake as the grip turned it and a head peeked through the crack to look at me.
It was Rory, and he didn't seem to pleased that I came in without being let through.
But something in his expression was the thing that bothered me.
With a light sight he opened the door and let me though.
"How's she doing?" I asked, hitting on the subject of his grim features.
He glanced towards her, slowly looking back towards me. "She's short on time." His voice shook, low, barely above a whisper, his eyes red and dewy.
My eyes, now wide, as my hearts seemed to minutely stop, as my stomach hit the ground, I looked to her, on the bed. Suddenly the hat felt heavy, as did the gifts.
She lay there, an air mask on her face. She was asleep. "Short on time, what do you mean-"
"Doctor," Rory interrupted. "Don't do that, don't do this right now." He almost spat, glaring at me. "Just go to her." He demanded.
"Doctor?" He voice immediately followed.
I hadn't realized I dropped the gifts as I paced to her, immediately at her side. "Hey there." I looked into her eyes, searching for something. "How are you feeling?" I asked, hand running though her gray hair.
"Had better… Days." She struggled to speak. There was a light whimper as she struggled to raise her weak and thin arm, fingers reaching out towards my face, then onto my head. I bowed lightly to allow her fingers to reach. "Always with… The stupid hats." She laughed lightly, but soon coughs followed.
Immediately I held her shoulder and soothed her with words, telling her that she didn't have to speak and to rest easy. But that would be a stupid favor to ask.
Rory was immediately next to her, standing on her left hand side as I remained on her right.
She continued with a struggle. "Look at you… My imaginary friend…" She smiled, eyes beaming. "My raggedy Doctor…" She laughed lightly. "You kept your promise… You came back."
"I did…" I nodded. "I told you I would." I ran my fingers through her hair, eyes locked to hers the entire time.
She looked to Rory. "My boys… Just like old times… I always manage to go out with a bang-"
"Amy, don't say that." Rory interrupted, voice shaking.
She nudged him lightly. "Oh please… Boy wonder… Don't get all sulky on me now." She smiled almost aggressively, teasingly.
Rory only nodded as he looked to her fingers, his lacing with hers.
She stared at their hands. "Hey Doctor…" He voice was weak, barely audible. "Stand next to Rory… It's hard to turn my head from side to side…"
I did as asked, quickly then I thought I could.
She smiled. "That's more like it… Look at you two. Looking as you did when we traveled."
Me and Rory exchanged glances.
There was a strange sequence of beeps and Rory look towards a machine, his mouth falling open as his expression changed into that of horror. He looked down to Amy, hands dripping tightly.
My hearts beat faster. I knew what this meant by his face alone.
"You two…" She slurred, looking up to us after looking to Rory's hands. "Do you two… Remember the time when we traveled together, us three?" She huffed out a small tired laugh. "I miss tha….."
Rory managed to move, as I remained stone still.
The machines blared a loud sequence of noises, a number that was stationed at 50 dropping incredibly fast.
Rory yelled her name as her eyes rolled closed, head falling to the side. "Her heart rate's dropping." He muttered before trying to get her to respond.
I looked to her in horror, my thoughts failing me. I didn't know to do this. He did, he studied it. "Well resuscitate her!" I demanded, my voice loud."
He looked to me quickly, anger and fright in his eyes as tears fell freely. "I can't. Performing any acts of it will only help in killing her faster-"
He stopped, as did I, our eyes still locked.
Slowly, Rory looked to the machine, and I looked to Amy, as the tone drew longer. It grew louder, and louder, I felt as if my brain would explode.
My eyes looked to the machine, a flat line.
"No…" I whispered, looking back down to Amy. "No no… Amy…. Amy?…." I whispered, holding her hand, seeking some sort of warmth, some sign of life.
Soon after I began to plead and beg. Rory was the one who took care of me instead, as I struggled to get to her as he pulled me away, to sit me down as my knees buckled.
Somehow, I sat in a sofa in the living room, my body numb as I stared towards the ground. "How is that even possible…?" I muttered.
Rory sat in a sofa across from me, hands tented against his face, thumbs holding his chin up. "Death…?" He glared towards me. "Don't be redicu-"
"Yesterday she was doing fine…" I interrupted, still breathless.
His brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, tears still falling. "Yesterday?" He leaned towards me further. "Yesterday?" He snapped.
I felt the tension as we both realized Amy wasn't there to shut us up before the feud continued.
He gathered himself with a glare. "It's been a year, Doctor. Almost more then a year since you last visited."
Normally, I would glare in return and debate against such a statement- that my Tardis had it right. But there was no reason to argue.
I stayed for a couple of days, to ensure I wouldn't miss the funeral. I watched as they lowered her into the ground. I stayed, to hear the parting prayer, as others cried around me. There were surprisingly plenty of people. Jessica River Pond held her newborn and a small boys hand who stared at the lowered oak box.
It didn't rain, as the dirt pilled over her. The sky was a strong cyan. The clouds were a pure white. The grass was a bright crisp green, as she was buried on the land she last lived on, it being vast enough.
I stayed as others left, as Rory tended to his daughter.
I stayed. And stared.
Leaving was difficult. I could barely manage to look away from the headstone that had her name carved into, along with her years of life. In all honesty, to be accurate, she'd have to have dates added from when she lived to be 80,000 years old, in her time stream- not Tardis travel time.
Every time I turned my heel to head towards the Tardis, I found myself stuck.
I found myself thinking, if I turned, and left now, this was it. The end. My farewell, and I'd visit her again, only to talk to a marble headstone with her name on it.
I didn't realize I was crying.
Eventually, somehow, I made it back to the Tardis, and I found myself circling the controls, my fingers tracing over them as memories hit me hard. And then, next thing I find is myself on the floor sobbing and muttering and pleading that she come back.
Eventually, I was doing as I did, and the words that I had strongly pressed about leaving my companions because it was hard to let them go echoed in my head. This was an example.
I couldn't bare to watch them die, so I left them before they did.
This was the result of my bravery.
I had returned later, and it was raining heavily.
I watched as the rain managed to miss the engraved words. I told her of a trip I recently took, and what happened. Rory standing with me, a broken man.
I had returned sometime later, and there was snow everywhere.
I cleaned the snow off the headstone, and told her the story of the ood, this particular surrounding reminding me of my adventure with Donna Noble. Rory gave me some tea and stayed to listen.
I later returned in the spring- it apparent by the weather, climate, and surrounding of flowers, a bunch of dandelions sprouting everywhere.
Rory was already walking out of the blue home door as he heard my arrival as I reached her tombstone.
I smiled, ready for another report on my recent adventures, but stopped dead in my words as I looked to the soil collected around the base of the marble, my face dropping.
Rory stood still, a few feet away, wondering why I reacted in such a way.
Crouching down slowly, my hand out, my fingers extended, head craned, I eyed the single flower that protruded the ground, alive and bright and well, healthy.
"Doctor?" Rory asked, approaching me. "Doctor, what is it?"
I didn't look to him as my fingers traced the flowers petals. "It's a sunflower…" I breathed.
He looked to it, seeing no similar meaning. But in my eyes, I saw Amy, sitting among a ridiculously vast amount of sunflowers in attempts to surprise a long dead friend, Vincent Van Gogh.
Rory only stood there, watching, before I stood up, looking to it.
He came to stand next to me, looking to the sunflower. "Do you think it's her?" He asked, a small smile on her lips.
I looked to him, eyes unsure, brows risen, a single nod, slowly turning to look back to the flower. "Yes… Definitely…"
Additional ending.
I handed her the dandelion as she waited for me as I asked, her long legs covered in leggings under her dark shorts, top loose and comfortable- her style hard to miss.
Her red hair flowed against the wind as her head tilted, looking to it questionably. Her green eyes looked to me. "Doctor, what is this?"
"Well, it's a dandelion, if you must know." I smiled as I stood over her.
Her brows pressed, and she slowly asked- "Yes, it is. And why do I have it?"
I nodded towards her. "So that you can make a wish, of course!"
"A wish?" She seemed offended but humored. "Really, Doctor, I'm not 10." She laughed lightly. "Wishing is for kids." She observed the enigmatic ball of fluff.
I shook my head. "Oh don't say that, come now Amelia Pond." I warned with a smile.
She changed the subject, eyes narrowed towards me. "You told me to wait here and you ran off. Where'd you go? It's winter, so where'd you get this dandelion?"
I looked to her, unsure. "I don't see why that matters." I chided nervously, face fallen in a flustered 'o', as if being captured with a stolen item and unsure on how to lie about it being not what it looked like. I tuned. "Come on now Pond, places to go, things to see."
She groaned and followed. And I smiled lightly as I heard her blow against the dandelion several times.
My eyes followed the pollen that floated past me and towards the Tardis. The pollen from years from today, that I plucked from my previous visit to her grave.
"Where were you anyways?" She asked again, not leaving the subject.
I looked to her, a crooked smile on my lips, that then grew strong, yet I knew was fake. "Visiting an old friend in the future." I answered, headed towards the controls.
She nodded, knowing she didn't need to pry anymore.
"So, Doctor, where to next?" She asked rather excited.
I paced around, doing as I usually did to get the controls running. I finally landed a grip on the crank. "Well, let's find out." My brows rose with curious fascination.
The machine whirred, sang, and we were stumbling about, gripping onto anything.
"I can always go back in time, and meet you, and take you on new adventures."
I looked to Amy who was smiling and laughing loudly as my words echoed in my head.
The memory strong.
I smiled and laughed with her, keeping the façade, trying not to slip, as the words of her future self continued to echo in my head.
She looked to me with a large smile. "But no matter what, I'd still be here, in this hospital bed. I wouldn't be the girl in those adventures. I'd still be here, not experiencing any of those adventures. They'd be new fond memories, just like the rest." She bowed her head lightly. "Only new memories that I would wish to re-experience, as I reminiscence, dying."
-END-
A/N- hoped you liked it. I'm working on another Doctor Who FF, not written in the first person.
By (passing-the-dull-time) My tumblr, where I originally posted this.