Hey everyone, this is an Amy/Eleven AU kind of thing. Never really done anything like this so bear with me.
Sadly, I do no own Doctor Who nor any other aspects of this story, just a laptop and an imagination.
Found myself at your door,
Just like all those times before,
I'm not sure how I got there,
All roads they lead me here.
"Doctor? Are you still out there?" The sound of his answering machine echoed through the silent TARDIS as it drifted soundlessly through the vortex. The messages were old, a few months at least, but they were never deleted. He couldn't bear to. He couldn't let go, not just yet. Not just ever. "Doctor, please, don't be gone." He wasn't really listening to them, just listening to the sound of the voice. That old familiar voice that had brightened so many of his long days and was the cause of so much of his heartache.
"If you can still, hear me, just do one last thing, for me. Don't be gone forever." This message was older than the rest, but it had been played so many times over that he had forgotten when he had received it.
"Please don't just leave me here."
The Doctor awoke to the quiet, recurring sound of the TARDIS landing herself. He had previously dozed off against the console after another rigorous adventure with Clara. It had been painful and dangerous; ending in an explosion if that was any indicator to why he had fallen asleep in the console room. Now awake, he slowly and groggily made his way to standing and wondered where and why the old girl had landed. He ran his hand over the top of the console, wiping away non-existent dust.
The TARDIS was glowing a slight orange hue, and was buzzing softly. The Doctor frowned, his brow crinkled.
"Where now, dear?" he sighed as he leaned against the sturdy surface, the blue box humming in a response only he could translate.
"What? No, I'm not lonely. I picked up Clara a while ago, remember? Well, I left her in the middle of an intergalactic war, but that's beside the point." The TARDIS beeped and gave a gentle shake.
"What do you mean, it's not the same? Nothing is ever the same! The universe is constantly changing, there are no second chances. I'm not replacing Clara already, we've just started." He straightened his bowtie and crinkled his nose. The TARDIS chimed and opened her blue doors in answer.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows incredulously and placed both hands firmly on the console. "I am not leaving." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. The TARDIS took this as an opportunity and knocked him forward down the stairs with a sudden jolt. She thrummed in laughter as he scowled.
"Fine, I'll just have a quick look around," he chirped smoothing down his brown jacket, "but that's it." The TARDIS made a noise that could only be classified as a fond snort and slammed her doors in his face. The Doctor tried to push his way back in but she'd locked him out. The Doctor chuckled and took in his new surroundings.
By the way the air tasted he could tell he was on Earth. Not as exciting has he had hoped, but still anything beats the vortex. The Doctor took a few steps away from the TARDIS and onto the main street. People rushed about around him as if he wasn't even there, taking no notice of his TARDIS either. He panned the street with his vision and confirmed his destination. Definitely Earth.
"Where on Earth, however, is the question." He mumbled to himself and sat down in a nearby café. These chairs, he decided, are definitely not comfortable. Made of wood? Where is all the imagination? Last planet he'd dropped into, all the furniture was made of gelatine. Now that was fun.
"Can I help you, sir?" asked a young woman with blonde curls and a thick American accent. Ah, America.
"No thank you, I'm just resting for a moment." The Doctor smiled and ran a hand through his hair.
"Of course sir, just call out when you're ready to order." The woman beamed and promptly walked away. The Doctor watched her walk away and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, scanning the area around him. Its green glow illuminating his table. It beeped and he checked its scanner.
NEW YORK, NORTH AMERICA, EARTH.
But why send me here, old girl? He pondered, and tweaked his bowtie in thought. Well, at least he was having a temporary break from Clara and her recklessness. He had almost been killed over a hundred times. He liked Clara, she was a whole heap of fun, but sometimes it was just too much. So, when he'd finally decided that he'd had enough of her adventures for a while, he had dropped her off to take some time to think. That had somehow ended him in New York, with a determined TARDIS.
The waitress bustled around the other tables and he called her over. She trotted over, breasts bouncing, and offered him a wide smile.
"Can I help you now, sir?" she asked, notepad ready. The Doctor smiled and nodded slowly. "Wonderful! What would you like sir?" she questioned with that ridiculous smile of hers smacked across her portly face.
"Fish fingers and custard. Please." He requested with a goofy smile on his face. The waitress frowned, gave him an odd look, and smiled.
"Is that all? Would you like any beverages?" she inquired with a slight nervousness in her voice.
"No thank you, that will be all." He replied, tapping his fingers on the leather bench. She shot him one last smile and briskly walked back into the kitchens.
The Doctor mused on the last time he'd been sent off on adventures by the TARDIS. He had been whisked away to the Amizorican Rim, where the whole galaxy had become suddenly obsessed with killing him. It was one wild adventure to say the least.
The Doctor glanced around at all the other customers at the tables around him. There was a little girl with dark hair clutching a blue balloon, an older couple sharing a glass of wine, and over in the corner sat a woman clutching her face, sobbing. He frowned because no one had gone to comfort her and the wedding ring on her finger noted an absence of a husband. He had a strong hankering to investigate, but he also knew he shouldn't. He had a feeling he should.
Her crying had died down, but she was still a bit of a mess. She wiped her nose with her napkin before pulling her blouse up and around her shoulders, sniffling. Her back was to the Doctor but he could still tell she wasn't having the best of moments. She wiped down the front of her navy skirt and stood up from where she was seated, collecting her small carry bag in her arms. She took a quick glance around her before departing the café, arms folded in a guarded manner. Her hair bounced around her neck as she moved swiftly down the crowded street.
He watched her leave, deducted that from her gait she was in no hurry to arrive home. He realised that she had been waiting, for something, someone perhaps, but they had never showed up. And for that fraction of a second when she shot him a startled, almost frightened glance, he knew why he had been brought here.
The Doctor made a choice. He made a decision. He was scared, downright afraid, but he made his choice. It chilled him to the bone, but he grasped it. Pain, misery, and loneliness. He was very old, and very kind, and the very, very last. And it was the last time.
Later, when the waitress came back with his food, he was gone. And he was afraid.
Hey everyone, Andie here. New story, yay! I'm not really certain where I'm going with this but I hope you guys have liked the first chapter. Please, please, please, please review. It would make my day. Tell me what you guys think and I might be able to add some other ideas.