A/N: Once again, I've been horrible about updating, but I have a new chapter up finally! I'll do my very best to make the gap between this chapter and the next one shorter. Thank you so much to all of you that have favorited, followed and reviewed for this story!


Three months had gone by and the Doctor had scarcely left Amy's side.

She was looking better, despite the fact that she wouldn't move. The nutrients that the hospital were supplying her helped to give her some substance. Amy didn't look like a skeleton anymore, and some color had returned to her cheeks, but she still looked too hollow, too weak, to broken.

It killed the Doctor to know that he was the one who had broken her.

Why didn't I just tell her? He thought bitterly, sat next to her bed, a cheap cup of tea in his hands. He could brew a much better pot back on the TARDIS, but he wasn't really tasting it anyway. Besides, he didn't like leaving her side unless he had to.

Visitor hours didn't apply to him, after all, considering he could hide away in his spaceship until she was left alone. Still, the Doctor didn't like being apart from her. If he could take her away into his TARDIS and look after her there, he would, but he knew it would only cause more harm than good. Her aunt Sharon had come to visit a week after Amy had fallen comatose, and was constantly informed on her niece's status. The Doctor didn't trust taking Amy away. The TARDIS, after all, had never been good with coming back on time where Amelia Pond was concerned.


"Who the hell are you?" Sharon asked, narrowing her eyes at the young man sitting beside her niece. There was something familiar about him that she couldn't place, and for some reason, he made her think of Amelia's imaginary friend. The stress was getting to her, because the man before certainly wasn't an alien with a time machine. He was real, so unlike Amelia's Raggedy Doctor.

The man looked over at her slowly, and she couldn't help but shudder. He was a young man in every aspect except for his eyes. He had eyes that had seen far too many rotations of the sun. He looked beaten down and destroyed as he sat beside her niece, holding onto Amelia's still hand.

"Doctor John Smith," he replied, sounding as though he'd said it many times before since taking his place beside Amelia. "I... I was her psychiatrist."

Sharon had to stop herself from snapping at him, something along the lines of him not doing a very good job of helping out Amelia. Of course, no one had really done a very good job of helping Amelia. Wasn't that how she'd ended up in that institution in the first place?

"So why are you still here?" She asked, bitterness creeping into her tone as she clutched her handbag closer to her, taking a few, small steps towards Amelia.

Doctor John Smith's hand tightened slightly around Amelia's. "I feel as though I... I need to protect her. It's my fault that she's here, after all."

"Well, certainly not! It's not as though you beat her within an inch of her life!" Sharon said, watching as he flinched. Apparently it was a very sore topic for him. But why should it be? He didn't care for Amelia, he was just her psychiatrist.

"I may as well have," he muttered, and Sharon pointedly ignored it. It wasn't directed at her, after all. It was only too apparent that he was speaking to himself.

Sharon didn't look at him as she moved to the other end of Amelia's bed, gently brushing the hair off of her forehead, pressing a light kiss to the cool skin. Straightening up, she looked over at the Doctor, her expression hard.

"You take care of her," she said firmly. "I want to know that she is safe with you. Is she?"

He looked up at her and nodded. "I won't let anything happen to her ever again."

Sharon nodded, pressing her lips together in a thin line before she moved towards the door. "Good. Thank you... Doctor."

Without another word, Sharon left room 304B. When she dared to glance back, it was only to see the ragged man with her niece bow his head in what could only be described as defeat.


Sharon hadn't come back to the ward since then. She got updates from the hospital, of course, but she never came in person. Her niece was in the hospital, and she couldn't even bother to drop by. No wonder Amy had been so lonely.

Wasn't Amy supposed to have woken up yet? It had been three months, and she was almost entirely healed. All of her cracked and broken ribs had been fixed without a hitch. All of her cuts, bruises and abrasions had disappeared, leaving faint scars on her pale skin. CT scans and MRI scans showed that she had healed spectacularly (with a bit of help from the Doctor, of course).

"Why won't you wake up?" He asked desperately, feeling a certain tightness in his chest that had became for too common over the past three months. Three months where he hadn't time traveled, refusing to leave her to avoid taking the slow path.

The Doctor was rarely so distracted. Maybe that was why he didn't hear the footsteps coming into room 304B.

"It's you, isn't it? The Raggedy Doctor."

The Doctor stiffened at that. The Raggedy Doctor, the title that Amelia Pond had bestowed upon him. A title that the people of the town had used to mock her relentlessly. He turned slowly, only to see a young man with a prominent nose wearing nurse scrubs.

"I am." He stated simply. No use in lying, not really. "And who are you?"

"My name is Rory Williams," he said, looking over the Doctor's shoulder to see Amy, the color draining from his face when he saw her. "I just got back from school, no one bothered to tell me that she had been locked up, and..."

Slowly, as if in a trance, Rory moved to the other side of the bed, taking the hand that the Doctor wasn't holding.

"Everyone thought she was crazy because of you," he mumbled, not bothering to look up at the Doctor, keeping his eyes on Amy. "She even started to think she was crazy."

"Did you?" The Doctor asked, keeping his voice level. "Think she was crazy, did you ever think she had lost her mind?"

Rory just shook his head sadly. "I felt awful for her. Trapped in a fairytale. I didn't believe her, but I didn't think she had lost her mind. I mean, she was getting better. And then something happened and she started to believe in you again..."

"How did you know I was the Doctor?"

"Amy said that you weren't ragged anymore, that you wore bow ties. No one wears bow ties. Besides, she has a bunch of crafts and things that look like you." Rory mumbled. A few moments of silence passed before he looked back up at the Doctor. "So what happened to her? What really happened?"

The Doctor looked down at Amy, reaching out to lightly touch her cheek before turning back to Rory. "We traveled together, Amy and me. She didn't make it up. I was adamant about her stopping back home every once in a while. Except then she..." The Doctor trailed away, closing his eyes briefly.

"She got into the accident." Rory finished.

"She lost her memories of our travels. She only really remembered them in her dreams, keeping extensive journals about our adventures. I didn't want to rush her, the brain is so delicate. As soon as she'd recalled all of our trips, I was going to tell her. But then some women in the psychiatric ward beat her practically to death." The Doctor looked up at Rory, managing a smile that just looked bitter and withering. "I was too late. Of course, I'm always too late for her, aren't I?"

"So you really crashed into her garden when she was seven?" Rory asked, clasping his hands together in his lap. The Doctor could tell that he was reeling. Amy had been telling the truth her entire life, and she'd been humiliated for it.

"Yes, I did."

Neither of them moved for a moment before Rory stood up, walking over to the Doctor. Somewhat stiffly, the Doctor stood up so that he was face to face with Amy's friend.

"You left her alone, and she suffered for years." Rory snapped, his voice low and firm. "But she never stopped believing in you. She deserved so much better and she only ever wanted you."

The Doctor couldn't find it in him to say anything, his lips parted slightly in surprise. Rory Williams wasn't wrong, it was all his fault. Not that the Doctor was oblivious to that fact, of course. He knew that he was the cause of Amelia's suffering.

"You're a Doctor, aren't you? Bring her back."

"I can't." He mumbled, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know how, don't know what to do without making things worse. Her mind and memories are at war, I can't do anything."

Rory glared at the Doctor. "Then what is the point of you?"

At that, the Doctor straightened up. "Listen to me, Rory Williams. I may not know what to do, but at least I'm trying. Not a day has gone by that I haven't wracked my brain for some way to help her, to wake her up. This girl is precious to me, and I will not abandon her. Not again." His voice softened slightly as he continued. "I will not give up on her, Rory Williams. I will find a way to save Amelia Pond."

That seemed to be good enough for Rory. His features relaxed slightly, and his stiff posture sagged. "Good."

Rory left a few hours later with the promise that he would come in to visit as often as he could. The Doctor didn't say goodbye to the nurse, refusing to look away from Amy. He didn't speak until he was sure that he could do so without his voice breaking.

"I will find a way to save you Pond, I swear. I swear on fish fingers and custard, I won't let you down again."


A/N: I can't seem to stop writing angst. Anyway! Please let me know what you think! I appreciate reviews!