An uncomfortable feeling sat in Amy's stomach as she knocked her head back against the wall and tried to avoid eye contact with the Doctor for as long as she could – which was surprisingly hard as he had very intense eyes. She didn't like talking about this. She avoided talking about this at all costs. And usually that wasn't too much of a task because people didn't ask or didn't want to ask; didn't want to meddle in the complicated problems of another human being. Unfortunately, the Doctor wasn't 'people', as he'd told her time and time again. He was his own unique brand of creature. Of course, she knew he was the last of his kind, the Time Lords, but somehow she knew he hadn't been normal among them either. There was something about him that suggested he was one of a kind: an intergalactic, time-hopping nomad with a penchant for running and an odd obsession with saving the human race.

Therefore, it wasn't surprising that he was determined to discover the problem that was plaguing her. That's just who he was and, in a way, it left her with a vague warm glow to know that, although he cared so much about everyone, he cared for her in particular – just because he'd crashed, by accident, into her garden when she was seven and allowed her onboard his ship. In that respect, she did feel privileged. However, at the same time, he drove her up the wall and she didn't doubt that she did the same to him. They had a passionate, rollercoaster of a relationship.

But that still didn't mean that she was comfortable sharing her innermost, darkest secrets with him. They were her secrets. If he didn't feel the need to tell her about his past, his lost children, then why should she tell him about her tragic childhood? Just thinking about it made her feel sick.

This must have shown in her face because the Doctor suddenly placed a cool hand on hers.

"Amy?" There was so much tenderness in his voice that Amy wanted to hit him. How could he make her want to spill her messy guts to him? The traitorous words were edging up her throat and then being lodged there by her fierce determination to keep silent. "Please, Amy, tell me what's wrong?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed his concerned expression and that just made her feel even worse. There was a small frown on his usually perfectly smooth forehead and his hazel eyes were imploring her to tell him the truth. Well, she wouldn't. No. No. No.

When he didn't receive a reply, the Doctor just lapsed into silence once more, his fingers still curved over hers, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand. She could tell that he wasn't going to leave. She could tell that this wasn't all going to blow over. Dammit. Why did she have to react like that? Why did she have to have such a fiery Scottish temper? If she had just shrugged it all off, acted like a normal person, then she wouldn't be in this awkward situation. Then again, if she had the ability to shrug it off then she wouldn't have this problem, would she? And she wouldn't be absolutely terrified of drowning, so much that it made her heart beat increase at the thought.

It was as if he could feel her heart beat through her hand – which he probably could because he was irritatingly amazing at that kind of thing – because as soon as she started to think about the water and the shock and…the past….his grip on her hand strengthened.

"Amelia?" he tried again – he was a persistent bugger, after all. "Are you okay?"

Amy attempted to say, "Fine", but it just came out as a kind of unintelligible grunt.

He sighed.

"But you're not fine, though, are you, Amy?" he said but it was almost as if he was speaking to himself. He probably was. In fact, she guessed that he was probably using that humungous, incredibly clever brain of his to work out exactly what was wrong with her. And she didn't doubt that he could. She could almost hear the cogs turning; the pieces of the jigsaw slotting into place. Did she want him to work it out or should she tell him?

"Is it because you can't swim?"

The words snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned to look at him, abruptly, eyes flashing like emeralds caught in the light.

"No!" she exclaimed, surprisingly offended. Perhaps, he wasn't as good at working her out as she thought. She thought she was quite obvious but then again, he hadn't got her hints in the bedroom, had he?

Seemingly relieved that he'd got some kind of reaction out of his stony companion, the Doctor released her hand – Amy felt a strange sense of loss – and threw his arms in the air. "What then, Amy? Because, frankly, I am at a loss."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Amy quipped before she could stop herself. Immediately, she clamped her mouth shut but it was too late, the Doctor spun towards her, scrutinising her with those deep green-brown eyes. He cocked his head slightly to one side.

Finally he said, "Amy…Amelia, you're my friend," he paused, taking a deep breath, "So I'm not going to force you to tell me what is upsetting you but you should know that you will feel so much better if you just tell me." He ran a bony hand through his springy locks before adding, "I'm a good listener. You should ask the Gabbling Groob of Grenada."

Amy couldn't help herself, she spluttered.

"Ah!" The Doctor's face lit up, immediately. "There you go! Laughter is the best medicine."

"Oh, is that your professional opinion, Doctor?" Amy arched an eyebrow.

"Of course," he grinned. Amy felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips but then she sobered up when she remembered what they were talking about – or, in her case, not talking about. She looked away.

Detecting the sudden change in her mood, the Doctor seemed to deflate, dropping back against the hard wall of the ballroom and staring up at the ceiling. He had almost dried off completely now but Amy could still see a few droplets of water dewing his creamy skin. Her nightgown was still damp and clung to her like a cold second skin, sending gooseflesh rippling up her arms. A little shiver shuddered through her but if the Doctor noticed he didn't say anything. He merely continued to stare, defeated, at the smooth swirls and patterns on the ceiling, his legs splayed out in front of him.

Vaguely, Amy knew that he was trying the silent treatment in the hope that she would fill the gaping void left between them. It was the oldest trick in the book – well, in her aunt's book anyway. She could recall numerous times when she was younger and hadn't wanted to talk about something until her aunt stopped being interested. Then she'd blurted everything out. And she could feel it was working again. The truth was on the tip of her tongue.

"I had a baby brother." And there it was. The floodgate had burst.

The Doctor turned his head ever-so-slightly in her direction, as if he didn't want to scare her, as if she was a deer that would spook at any moment. "I had a brother once too," he murmured.

Although that quiet statement intrigued her immensely, Amy knew that she had to keep going if she had any hope of ever getting this all out. "His name was Alfie."

"Alfred and Amelia Pond," the Doctor said, almost reverently. "Cor, your parents had good taste in names."

A tiny smile escaped his companion's pink lips but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived and she just looked immensely sad again. He felt his hearts go out to her and he didn't even know why yet. He knew it must be an awfully sad truth that he was about to learn because otherwise Amy wouldn't be acting like she was. Right now, with her head bent slightly forward and her hair falling into her face, she looked like a small, lost child.

He waited. Then…

"They all died."

"They?"

"My parents and my brother." Amy was deliberately not looking at him but all he wanted to do was to look at her; to comfort her.

"Oh Amy…" Was all he managed. Usually he was the lord of words but right now he was at a loss.

In a slightly choked voice, she continued, "It was…a car accident, Christmas Eve, coming back from church. Scotland's snowy at Christmas, you know….not like everywhere else. The road was icy…..Dad lost control." This was accompanied with a little shrug of the shoulders. "I remember screaming and then we were off the road and in a lake. Water everywhere." A sob hitched in her throat. The Doctor immediately leant over and took her head, pressing it against his chest as he hugged her close.

"It's all right, Amy, its all right. You can stop now." He comforted her, stroked her hair, but still, brave as she was, she continued, determined to get it all out.

"I was scared and all I could think about was getting out. I didn't think about anyone else," she murmured, her voice muffled against his skin. The Doctor could feel her hot tears trickling down his chest. "I just left them…pulled the door and left. My brother…Alfie…he was only two. He couldn't get out. I left him!"

"It wasn't your fault, Amy," the Doctor promised, soothing her as much as he could. He now understood the nightmares, the words he sometimes heard her whimper, 'I'm sorry! It's my fault! I'm sorry!'

"I got to the surface and waited….I waited but they didn't come up," she whispered, "They never came up."

Her breathing was becoming more rapid and gasping so the Doctor pulled her away from his warmth and tried to calm her.

"Amy, Amy, listen to me." He took her chin in his hands, looking her in the eyes. "It wasn't your fault, okay? You were a child. You were scared. It wasn't your fault. It was nobody's fault except the weather's. An accident. If you had tried to help then you would have died too."

"I should have," the slender girl hissed, bitterly.

"Never say that," the Doctor replied, fiercely. His fingers dug into her jaw a little more than necessary. "You did what you had to and you should never be sorry about being alive. Don't succumb to survivor's guilt. Have you got that, Amy?"

The intensity of his voice was a little frightening but Amy found herself nodding and she suddenly realised that perhaps, rather unintentionally, she had learnt something more about the Doctor, though she wasn't quite sure what yet. So, she just immersed herself in the pools of his eyes and tried to control the tears still spilling down her porcelain cheeks. Fleetingly, she thought that this would be a very intimate moment if it wasn't for the circumstances – their faces were extremely close – but she fought back the idea and cursed herself.

Fortunately, she was saved from awkwardness by another tremor that ran through her entire body. It felt very odd.

"You've been cold for too long, Pond," the Doctor said, seriously, "Come on; let's get you some warm clothes."

Abruptly, he jumped to his feet with a spring to rival a kangaroo's and leant back down to grab her hand. Tentatively, she reached up and felt the rough, strength of his grasp close around her slim fingers. His skin felt very warm compared to hers. With ease, he pulled her up and then put a comfortable arm around her before steering her firmly towards the door. She had the feeling she wouldn't be escaping his company for awhile yet.

AN - Okay, thank you very much for the reviews of last chapter. I hoped you enjoyed this one with the caring Doctor. I promise we will learn more of his secrets. Please review!