A/N: Right. Well, um, this my first attempt at writing the Eleventh Doctor AND my first published Whofic. I have others I'm terrified to post. This is part of a thirty day writing challenge and if you like it and/or anything of value comes from the other days, maybe I'll post those too. This takes place during The Doctor, The Widow, and the Wardrobe.

Beginnings

It was always best in the beginning: always happier, the adventures more fun and exotic to impress the newly acquired companion, and…well, less humany-wumany. Not to say that it was easier. It definitely wasn't easier. In the beginning, companions never understood the meaning of "Don't wander off," which complicated everything. Although some of the best companions never learned the number one rule...

There was Rose always wondering off and disobeying, absorbing the whole time vortex and then being stubborn and getting herself st—Martha was much better about not wandering, but Donna…oh, Donna had a mind of her own, not that she'd re—Amy, the girl who waited, never actually had much patience during an adventure, especially if her husband was involved and Rory and her were both trouble magnets (weren't all of your companions? Was it really even them?) so it was best to let them just—

Yes, the beginning was always the best. In the beginning, you explained the significance of bananas, sonic screwdrivers, your glasses, your bowtie, or fish fingers and custard; whatever that regeneration seemed to fancy. You wore your leather jacket or your trainers or your bowtie with pride and took cracks from the blonde shop girl, the nurse, the super temp, the girl who waited, and the last centurion about how alien you are. You spent late nights in the control room with some, or in the library, or in the third entertainment center watching EastEnders because damn it, Rose had the TARDIS wrapped around her finger like no other companion (unless River counted, which she didn't, she was so much more).

In the beginning, you took them to see Charles Dickens, and Shakespeare, and Agatha Christie, and Vincent van Gogh. You took them to the end of Earth, and the moon, and the beginning of the earth, and the Starship UK. But then, then, things always get complicated and the TARDIS takes you where you're needed, and you love the sexy old girl, you really do love her, but that's when things get humany-wumany, because companions can't regenerate, and unless they're Jack or Rory, odds are slim that they'll make a miraculous return from death. So, you get sloppy trying to save them while they don't follow the rules and then….

And then Rose is in a parallel universe with a partially (you don't even want to get into the arguments of percentage) human you from a metacrisis. Then Martha turned out okay in the end, but she had to endure hell for a year that didn't exist and you can never forgive yourself for that. Then Donna was screaming in agony and had to have all memory of you erased and why can't you just leave people alone? Then Amy and Rory are in agony over a lost child and nooooo, not going into that area of the memory, it hurts too much, but it's your fault again and you can't fix it either because of the stupid predestination complex and why do there have to be these stupid rules when you're the only one left?

This was exactly you. All this, all of it. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this?

This was why you had to start at the beginning again. New companion, new favourite word maybe, new adventures that hopefully wouldn't make you regenerate for another two years or so. Oh, who were you kidding, two months would be lucky. Yet…

You sighed and knocked on the door, immediately rewarded by the Scottish accent you had been missing.

"Ughhh! If that is more carol singers, I have my water pistol! You don't want to be all wet on a night like this."

Amy opened the door, her face doing that human woman thing where you never can tell if they're going to smack you or hug you. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"Not absolutely sure…how long…" you mumbled.

"Two years?" Amy settled for squirting you with the water gun, which in all fairness, you deserved.

"Okay. Fair point." You conceded.

"So. You're not dead." Amy continued staring at you and she should really look more surprised or emotional or humany-wumany or something, shouldn't she? You weren't an expert, but she was more upset over the death of the stray flower she had collected on one of your trips than seeing you here and you were starting to suspect…

"And a Happy New Year!" The hyperactive mind must never stop the mouth from also being…hyperactive. Anyway, this lack of a reaction was probably because—

"River told us." Exactly. Would she ever learn? River, River, River.

You tried your best to act like this genuinely upset you, but what was the point? "Well, of course she did."

"She's a good girl."

And Amy looked so proud of her daughter and for one second everything was okay, another moment where everybody lived, because Amy and Rory had each other and they knew who River would be and you (sort of, in the universe's twisted punishment of a way) had River, and this was… your family. A family of humans on Earth and right now was just as good as the beginning.

Shit. That girl and her humany-wumany happy tears.

Reviews hold me over until the next episode...which is also when I move in to uni, so I'm screwed. Let me know how it was, even if it sucked?