somewhere, in another universe

by quintessentialy

She holds his hand when they have adventures and at the end of it all, when they say goodnight, she never says it like goodbye. (Amy/Eleven, very short fic)

I.

There is a blue box floating in space. It is settled somewhere between two galaxies, surrounded by a bubble, floating gently toward neither of the places it rests between. Inside that blue box there is a man who knows the names of every single planet that every was and is and ever will be. He points at stars and sputters facts like he's saying the alphabet and when he loves, he uses the force of the universe to give everything he has. He is very, very old, and he is very, very kind, though there is a shadow on his face and when he turns away, there is the pain of a million lives times a million lives times a million lives sitting on his shoulders – though he still manages to laugh, every single day.

II.

There is a blue box in a garden. There is a girl, all grown up, with hair the color of Gallifreyan skies and legs like marble pillars that the man has seen in ancient Greece a million times. He offers her his hand and she takes it the night before her wedding. He promises her space and time, and she grins at him. He feels like he's staring at the sun, and he very well might be.

III.

There is a blue box with a girl and a man inside. Her name is Amelia Pond and she has grown up against her wishes. His name is the Doctor and he will make sure that she never grows up, not ever again. He presses his lips to her forehead dozens of times and it is always chaste – but one night when she's skinned her knee and wants to go home, he kisses her forehead a bit less chastely and bandages her knee. She does not request to go home again, and instead lays awake in her bed all night skimming fingers across her forehead and sighing.

IV.

There is a man who loves using the force of the universe. When he loves, he gives everything he has. He touches her like she is gold and he presses kisses to her face like she is art and he is an observer. He does not deserve her (he convinces himself) and when he takes her back to Earth to get married, he has to bend every rule to get back to her. He does. He hugs her when he sees her again, and hopes she can't see his hearts bursting through his chest.

V.

There is a girl who loves a very, very old man because he is very, very kind. She sees the pain in his face and the shakiness of his fingers. She kisses his knuckles and sits with him in the library while he reads. She makes him tea sometimes and rests her forehead on his shoulder when he reads to her. She holds his hand when they have adventures and at the end of it all, when they say goodnight, she never says it like goodbye. She loves him and she knows he loves her, too, but time and space separates them.

VI.

In another life, in another universe, where he is not very, very old but is still very, very kind, they find each other and they kiss and stars burst and his fingertips burn paths on her skin and she sculpts him into a statue of goodness. Somewhere, in another universe, they deserve each other. Somewhere, in another universe, their love is not shattered by a blue box floating in space. Somewhere, all is well.