Who's Amelia?
Amelia Pond.
The girl who waited.
The first face that his face saw.
The girl with the fiery red hair, and a personality to match.
If he was going to die, she was the one he wanted to be with. Clara was sweet, he cared for her deeply, and her company meant a lot to him. But this couldn't be the end. The last time he ever saw Amy Pond couldn't be that graveyard in New York City. Their story couldn't be over quite yet.
He had always hoped that somehow, some way, he would find her again.
His Amelia.
The girl who traveled the stars with him, disregarding every order he gave her to make sure he'd never be alone.
She'd had weeping angels inhabit her head, watched him die, that time in America, yet she'd never given up on him.
Not ever.
He was her raggedy Doctor, and it pained him to think that if they ever could meet again, she wouldn't recognize his face, or poke fun at his wardrobe choices.
He would be a stranger to one of the people who knew him best.
Fishfingers and custard.
The TARDIS kitchen was always kept stocked with them. Clara had stopped questioning it.
Her room was exactly the same as how she'd left it. Not the bedroom she'd shared with Rory when he traveled with them, but the one she'd picked out the night before her wedding, when he asked if she wanted to check out some other planets. It stilled smelled like her perfume.
Not that he ever went in there.
He wore her glasses.
They were round, and reminded him of Harry Potter's, but that wasn't why he wore them. (Though it was a perk.)
Nor did he need the vision assistance, he could see perfectly fine, but they were rather nice for reading. Clara would question them, claiming that they weren't the best shape for his facial structure, and why do you wear them when you're not reading anything?
He would chuckle, and make some remark about his eyes getting old. She would let it go, but he knew that she didn't believe him.
He'd never really told Clara about Amy, only admitting that yes, he had had other companions in the past, and yes, some of them had died.
He missed having someone to kiss on the forehead, Clara was entirely too short to do so without hunching over, and it didn't feel right.
He missed his Amelia, the best friend he'd known since she was a child, living alone in that big house of hers.
So it was no wonder that as he tottered on the brink of regeneration, his mind conjured a young Amelia, galloping around the TARDIS, still in those bright red boots. He must've said her name out loud, hoping to draw her attention, because he heard Clara's voice, though it sounded far away, ask, "Who's Amelia?"
He imagined an adult Amy, stepping down the stairs, smiling at him.
To hear her voice, just one more time, to hear it content, not fearful, was the best regeneration gift his mind could've given him. He could feel her hand on his cheek, and felt her own skin under his hand, and he cupped her face.
The first face that his face saw, and thankfully, one of the last.
After all, how do you begin to explain Amelia Pond?
A/N: The Time of the Doctor made me want to bawl, okay? Amy and 11 are my OTP, and I'll adore them forever, so for all the references to seasons 5, 6, and the first part of 7, were greatly appreciated. I loved the return of the Silence, and the Weeping Angels, and I was just having a feels fest. Also, the fishfingers and custard on the TARDIS console killed me. I've heard complaints that Amy's reappearance made Clara seem unimportant, and while it sort of did, Amy was and will always be Eleven's companion. While Clara's a wonderful companion, she's always had to live up to Amy, even in the Doctor's eyes. Hopefully, she can be Twelve's important person.
I was shocked that Clara didn't know who Amy was, so of course I had to write fic to comfort myself. I guess in my mind, the Doctor would've at least mentioned her, because he's obviously not over the loss of his favorite Pond. From my perspective, the Doctor and Amy were very close, and their relationship was edging on romantic. They cared very deeply for each other.
Nothing against Rory, love him, but I don't ship Rory and Amy together. Sorry.
It breaks my heart that if somehow, Amy and the Doctor were to meet again, she wouldn't recognize him. He wouldn't be her Raggedy Doctor. That makes me want to claw my face off and cry forever.
So… Review, I guess? I've never published DW fanfiction before, and it makes me nervous, so constructive criticism is welcome.
-Emily
