A huge thank you to Eleanor B-F, this tale's first reviewer, and to everyone else who has reviewed!
I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.
A comforting warmth enveloped Amy's body and she sighed, turning over and nuzzling herself against into it. A soft voice stirred her, her eyes opening slowly as she awoke to find its source.
"Good morning, Pond." The Doctor's lopsided smile greeted her and she felt something in her give way as she realized they were nose to nose, their limbs entangled upon the now-warm leather couch. She choked back a sob and forced a smile, but at that proximity the Doctor could see even the faintest of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. He reevaluated the situation; realizing that her face was swollen, her eyelids red and raw from too much friction. Something was most defiantly wrong, something more than what he'd assumed to be a nightmare by her unconscious cries of "Don't go...", "Please..", but he wouldn't pry, despite his obvious want to. 'No', he thought. Whatever could make his impossibly brave, impossibly stubborn Amelia this unhappy, was something that she would need to come to him with. He'd wait, no matter how long it took for her to find the words. He had all the time in all of the worlds to wait for her.
Amy simply lay there, the Doctor's hand rubbing reassuringly along her arm as she tried so hard to be as brave as he thought she was. She really wasn't all that brave, though, she never had been. Only in her moments with him had she somehow found the strength to fight, to continue on. He made everything and everyone around him better, stronger. That was why she loved him.
Her eyes squeezed shut, the building tears within them falling away and across her reddened cheeks. 'Tell him everything. No... Yes!' she argued with herself. The facts were there, so clear and perfectly plain, and somehow they were so difficult to deal with when they should have been the easiest... well, perhaps not the easiest, but certainly not so hard to face. She cleared her throat, finding it parched, and opened her eyes to see the Doctor's face etched in concern. 'He knows,' she thought, 'he always knows these things. He just never talks about it.' She wished he would, just this time, just make it a little better... a little easier. 'Just do it, Pond. Open your mouth and say something, anything.'
"I love you..." she blurted, though it came out as a mangled cry. The Doctor's eyes widened for a moment, more confused than anything else. Of coarse Amy loved him, she always had. He loved her just as much, so why is she...? 'Oh.' realization hypothetically smacked him across the face. She loved him. That did present a problem, what with her being, well, married. 'Married to Rory, no less.', he thought with a slight frown.
It wasn't that he didn't like the man, he just... well, him. The Doctor had no idea how Amy could have agreed to marry someone like Rory, for as genuinely sweet and doting as he usually was, he was still quite thick. 'Very thick, in fact.', he continued on in his head before realizing he'd retreated into his mind and left his Amelia just staring at him, waiting for a response. Her bottom lip was quivering, as if everything in her world hung on his next words. 'She really has no idea.' he said to himself, stopping the incessant rubbing of her arm and gently gliding it around her waist.
Amy winced slightly as the Doctor's hand grazed her side, cursing herself for it as she felt the Doctor's posture stiffened immediately with worry. He pulled away, sitting up as he looked down at her and spoke.
"What's wrong?"
"I say 'I love you', and you ask me what's wrong?" She sniffled slightly, hoping she could distract him. 'Well,' she thought, 'I suppose something would have to be wrong with anyone who could love a mad alien.'
"You winced." His voice brought her back from the brief thought. She knew he'd noticed. 'Damn it.'
"Its nothing," she averted her eyes and cursed herself as she did so, hoping he'd think it just another bruise or bump from a rough landing of the TARDIS. "I'm fine."
'She's a horrible liar', he thought before demanding, "Let me see."
Her eyes flooded with panic as she stumbled to find her voice, sputtering, "No, thank you, I-"
"That wasn't a request," his eyes narrowed, his usually light tone suddenly becoming very authoritative, "Let me see."
She let out a breath that she'd been unaware she'd been holding as she sat up slowly and untied the sash of her robe. As the thick material fell away from her shoulders, she lifted the side of her nightie just enough to show the Doctor what he wanted to see. He really hadn't wanted to see it, he realized as he took in the sight before him with shock.
Several thin, finger-shaped bruises littered Amy's right side, varying in shades of green, yellow, purple and black. Streaks of molted red bruises intersected the others. His eyes then trailed up to the hand holding up her gown, noticing several small bruises it as well. 'Defensive marks.' he realized. The Doctor drew a careful breath, unsure of what to say next as she looked at him as if he were angry with her. 'Oh, my Amelia, what has happened to you?'
He met Amy's gaze and held it for a moment before speaking. "This," he motioned to her injuries, "Is not 'nothing'." Leaning forward, he reached out to check her marks for signs of broken ribs but stopped when she dropped the cloth back over her and inched back. He could see the confusion flash across her face, he knew that she knew she could trust him and yet here she was... cowering.
Amy squeezed her eyes shut, upset with her reaction. He was the only thing she had now, the one person who could never hurt her and she'd not only lied to him, but insulted him by not trusting him to touch her.
"I'm sorry." She spoke finally, opening her eyes to find the Doctor's face wrinkled with confusion.
"For what?"
"Lying to you." She replied, "I won't do it again, I promise." The worry in her voice threw him further into the loop he was in. 'That's it,' he thought, 'It needs to be done.' His expression softened as he reached up to cradle her head in his hands, their faces hovering closely.
"I apologize in advance for this." He murmured, searching her eyes for some sort of understanding.
"For wha-" She stopped, her eyes slamming shut as his forehead met hers and his finger slid upwards to her temples.
It wasn't something he would usually do, but even when in obvious distress Amy seemed to give him no other choice in how to help her. As he delved into her mind, he realized for the first time just how lonely his brave Amelia had always been. He pushed aside images of her as a girl, making dolls of them alone in her room as she hoped for him to come take her away, with a heavy heart. Ridicule from her peers as she exclaimed that there were indeed such things as aliens, spaceships, time travel; it all but drowned him, this isolation. He'd done this to her. In a way he knew he did it to all of his companions, but not to this extent... not like Amy.
She'd had no friends, no one to turn to and no one to tell her it would be alright, all because of a slight miscalculation. His miscalculation, his fault. 'The Girl Who Waited' was not the fairytale title that he'd always treated it as. His Amelia had waited. Alone. For twelve years. For him.
An image caught him, drawing him out of his distraction as he watched the scene carefully:
The three of them sat in the control room, the Doctor adjusting the TARDIS's controls as they left their most recent planet, Pliexia. Amy sat on the railing looking on the Doctor adoringly, seemingly in a trance as a small but very content smile curled on her lips. He'd been too distracted with his work at the time to notice Rory's expression as he watched Amy. He was nothing short of furious.
He grabbed Amy's arm and quietly pulled her to him, whispering what the Doctor couldn't hear then but could now.
"I can see, you know, you don't have to rub it in my face."
Amy looked back at him, her eyes wide as she spoke, "What are you talki-?"
"The way you look at him, Amy." he interrupted, "I see it." His voice broke as if he might cry, but his anger won out. "Do you love him?" He finally asked, his voice still quiet as his watched her with wild eyes.
"Rory..." Amy tried to find the words, tried to be so careful. "Let's go back to our room." He nodded in agreement, this was a private matter, even if it did involve the Doctor himself.
Once inside the small bedroom, Amy leaned against the door and let out a shaky breath as she decided to be truthful.
"Yes."
Rory met her eyes, "What?"
"Yes, I love him." She repeated. The words hung in the air like smoke, lingering as she watched Rory turn away from her and place one hand on the side of his head. After a moment of silence, Amy finally spoke again, "Rory?"
"Shut up." It came out calmly, but his body betrayed his tone as he began to shake slightly. Amy stepped forward and reached out for his shoulder. Despite her feelings for the Doctor, she couldn't let Rory suffer this way. Though, she supposed, she'd been making him suffer all along.
"Rory..." she tried again.
"I said 'SHUT UP!'" he bellowed, spinning around to grasp Amy's wrist as he flung her away from him. He stepped forward as she stumbled back, trying to catch her balance. "You're my wife. My WIFE!" She struggled to speak, never having seen him this way before in all their time together. Fear began to creep up inside of her.
He shot out one hand, catching her shoulder roughly as she lost her balance fell back against the floor. This wasn't the same person she'd once known, she could see it in his eyes as he towered over her for a moment before kicking her in the side.
"Get up!" He growled, and Amy tried to do as he said as the pain in her side shot up and caused her to fail.
"I can't, it hurts." she whimpered, terrified as she watched the eyes she'd come to know so well become black with fury. He bent over, gripping her shirt as he pulled her up and threw her forwards onto the bed. She cried out in pain as her ribs smacked the mattress, struggling to turn over and faltering. She felt him approach her from behind, grasping the thin material of her skirt and ripping it away.
"You're my wife! My wife!" he kept repeating the words, drowning out Amy's cries to stop. Rory's fingers grabbed at her sides, digging into the already-bruising flesh as her cries became unintelligible. They simply were.
The Doctor wouldn't hear, Rory knew, their room was far enough away for the 'privacy' of the newlyweds. As he held her in place, Amy's arms tried to swing behind her helplessly and caught his side, enraging him further. He turned her over and raised one arm, using his weight to hold her down as he struck the side of her head.
A deep ringing sounded in her ears as her head fell to the side, her body unable to respond to what it was going through. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her open, empty eyes stared off and one last word fell from her mouth in a whisper, "Doctor..."
The memory faded to black as the Doctor opened his eyes and allowed Amy to wake. She was shivering as she looked at him, so many feelings flashing across her face. He realized they'd been to the planet Pliexia only just after their wedding, and now understood that for one entire week this had been his Ameila's life. He should have seen the changes in her sooner, noticed Rory's sudden dominate attitude, something... anything.
He had, yet again, allowed her to be hurt. She had been alone this entire time, with him just within reach. His hearts broke as she continued to look at him, unsure of what he thought of her now. Somehow, even after everything she'd been though, he thought, she found it in her to love him. He embraced her gently, her head resting in the curve of his neck as he kissed her cheek. She had stopped crying, but she body still shook with sadness, or perhaps relief now that he understood. Rocking her softly, he felt her begin to relax in his arms and he murmured, "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry."
He didn't deserve that kind of love.