Amy Pond had been called many things by various people throughout her life, but never a victim. She'd always been described as a fighter or boisterous, but never the prey. Yet, here she was, curled up into a ball in the corner of the room she had slept in before Rory had joined her and the Doctor in the TARDIS.
It had been building up for a while, ever since the long day when they'd nearly all died at the hands of some alien named the.. Zaraski or Zoroska or something. She hadn't been listening when the Doctor had been telling them about the aliens and their history, so hadn't realised that coughing in front of their high priest was the most offensive thing she could've done. Apparently it was. And so the chase had begun, with Amy, Rory, and the Doctor running for their lives while an angry mob filled with tentacles and five eyes per head raced after them. Once they'd all made it safely inside the TARDIS, the Time Lord and the fiery haired Scot had doubled over laughing, clutching their stomachs as they attempted to control their euphoric hysteria.
"Amy!" Rory had complained, a frown on his brow that never seemed to leave. "We could've been killed! Stop laughing!"
She'd brushed it off with a kiss to his cheek, still attempting to stifle her giggles. "Oh, brighten up Rory. We're fine," she smiled reassuringly at him, running her hands down his arms to take his hands. "See? All intact."
"Yes, but we might've been-"
"Hush! Less talking, more eating. I'm hungry." Amy had interrupted him with a finger on his lips. "Come on."
With that, they left the still chuckling Doctor to fiddle with the console, and walked through the maze of corridors to the kitchen.
"Haven't you had enough?" Rory had asked a little while later, nodding to the slice of cake Amy had been digging into. "I mean.. You want to stay healthy, don't you? Or you might end up losing your speed and stamina. Falling behind. I don't want you in danger.." He'd continued with a smile that seemed a little too calculating.
That was when it had started, Amy now realised. It hadn't been an unusual day in itself, but Rory's small comment had slowly been making itself at home in the back of her mind. She hadn't eaten for the rest of that day, inspecting her stomach in the mirror before she had slid into bed. She'd known Rory to be nice and concerned, so took his comments to heart. She decided that maybe she was eating too much..
Her husband kept slipping in the same types of comments throughout that week and the weeks following, slowly wearing down Amy's happiness and the smile on her face, though she hadn't realised at the time. And then things had started to become a little more physical. They'd been arguing about how close she was to the Doctor, with accusations being flung between them both before Rory finally snapped, the back of his hand sharply slapping her cheek.
"He's not good for you. I don't want you being alone with him anymore," Her husband had hissed before storming out of the room. Amy had stood there, rooted to the spot in shock. It wasn't until the sting on her skin had started to fade that she moved again, blinking back tears furiously and turning to the mirror. She would not cry. She had spent the rest of that night alone in bed, the lump in her throat refusing to budge.
Amy had decided that it must've been a one off thing, as the next day Rory seemed happy and made her breakfast in bed, though neither of them spoke about the events of the previous night. She had begun to feel happy again until a few days later, when Rory had barged into their bedroom as she was just about to fall asleep.
"Amy, wake up. Come on, your husband wants you." He had sneered, slamming the door behind him and flinging himself on the bed.
"Rory, I'm tired.. Let me sleep," Amy replied with a yawn, rubbing her eyes. "Just read a book or something."
But he hadn't read a book. In fact, her husband had been very insistent on not reading a book and instead ignoring her protests, grabbing both of her wrists in his hand and forcing himself on top of her. Her cries were muffled by the bruising kisses he planted on her lips. The rest of the night was a blur in Amy's memory, one she'd tried to block out completely many times before. She'd showered the next morning, scrubbed at her skin until it was as red as her hair and turned the water to the highest temperature she could stand. It must have been a mistake. Rory wouldn't do that to her. He probably just thought she was messing around..
Amy had been getting less sleep since then and had invented many excuses as to why she wouldn't go to bed early, even though that ended up with her falling asleep in the library more often than her staying awake. She got even less sleep when it happened again, and again, and again. By the time Rory punched her in the temple, she was less surprised. Because she had been eating as little as she could without sparking suspicion from the Doctor, coupled with the few hours of sleep she had been getting, Amy could put up little fight when she felt her husband push her to the floor, his foot kicking into her stomach and making her cough on the breath she'd been sucking in. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as he dragged her to her feet with his hand fisted in her hair, his wild looking eyes boring into hers.
"It's your fault," he had spat, "All of this. You made me do it. I told you not to be alone with him, but I saw you today. Do you think I'm blind? Do you think I wouldn't notice? Stupid girl."
Amy had crumpled to the ground when he had released her, showered again in the morning and had coated her face in make up in an attempt to hide the bruise forming on her skin. He had only just missed her eye. The next time, she wasn't so lucky. Explaining to the Doctor that she'd received her black eye by walking into a door was harder than she had thought, though he seemed to accept the story after ten minutes of questioning. Half of her was relieved, the other half distraught.
The week after had been the worst. Every night Rory had found her and dragged her back to their room. Her lungs burned for breath and tears streamed down her cheeks when he had placed his hands around her neck, squeezing tightly to cut off her blood supply. Her cries were muffled by the pillows her face was pressed into when Rory had begun to become a little more inventive with the uses of his belt, lashing it across her back and thighs. Every morning Amy would put on more make-up and wear less revealing clothes, the disgust she felt for herself growing with each barb her husbands words wrapped around her.
But back to the present. The Doctor had seen her bruises. Had seen the scratches clawed into her skin by Rory's nails. Had seen her a complete mess in the library. He had finally noticed that something was wrong. Amy knew she could hide the worst from him.. She could hide the welts littered across her skin made by the husband she thought had loved her. She could declare that what the Doctor thought he had seen was simply bruising from where she had fell in the console room during a bumpy flight. But what Amy couldn't do, was take back her admittance that it was Rory. Her best friend knew now, and there was nothing she could do about it. no matter how hard she wished.
Rory would kill her, surely. He wouldn't think that whipping her with his belt would be enough this time, as far as she could guess.
Amy was pulled from her thoughts by the door opening. No one came in here anymore but her. It was her sanctuary and she doubted anybody even remembered it existed. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest as she saw the figure standing in the doorway and she wanted nothing more than for the darkness she was sat in to swallow her up. She couldn't face him again.. Not after what had just happened.
"Amy."
Hello again! Thanks for all of the rates and reviews for chapter one, and of course, thanks for reading! I wanted to give a little backstory to what had been happening to Amy, so in the next chapter we might see what the Doctor does. As always, all rates and reviews appreciated! :)
