Dropped out of the Sky

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who (unless I do and haven't noticed yet, but I strongly doubt it).

*A/N* I decided this chapter had to be written from Amy's point of view, because the video sort of depicted it from her point of view, too. I might do one or two chapters from the Doctor's or maybe even Sherlock's point of view. But don't worry, John's still the main narrator (mainly because I'm just much more used to writing him than Amy).

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and once again, do have a look on the video ("Elysium" made by The Pteryx, to be found on YouTube) if you haven't yet, it's a piece of art!


An oddly familiar noise jerked her out of sleep. She felt the familiar jolt of excitement as she opened her eyes, but then reality hit her. She was in New York - in the late twenties. Stuck forever with no means of ever going back to her time, back to her hometown that she had always despised until she lost it.

And that noise she'd dreamt right before she'd woken up - she was never going to hear it again.

Yet the well-known whooshing was still in her ears, almost as if she was really hearing it, almost as if there was actually a blue phone box materializing in her garden… But it was impossible and she was probably still dreaming.

She was never going to see her best friend again, her Raggedy Doctor.

The sound was still there, it wouldn't go away. Incredulously, she threw off the blankets and scrambled out of bed. Running towards the window, she experienced a strong Déjà-Vu. Just like when she'd been seven.

The sight of her garden was like a slap in the face - because there it was, the one thing she had expected to never see again in her life. A big blue box, fading in and out of view as it appeared, complete with blinking light on top and big sign over the door. POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX.

The TARDIS.

"Not you," she muttered and pressed her fingers against the cold window pane as if she could reach out for it through the glass. "It can't be."

The next moment, she was running through their modest little house in the suburbs of New York and burst through the front door just in time to see the TARDIS door open.

That was him, no doubt. Impossible, but there he was. The Doctor. He left his time machine in a more cautious way than he usually did, but it was him. The Raggedy Man.

She almost crashed into the fence and a disbelieving giggle welled up inside her. "Doctor?"

However confused he had seemed before, when his eyes fell on her, he looked absolutely nonplussed. Pain, disbelief, sorrow, surprise, hope and happiness flashed through his eyes in the fraction of a second.

"Amy?" He cast a helpless glance around, taking in the suburbs, the small garden, the freshly painted house, the skyline in the distance. Then he suddenly spun back around and demanded harshly: "Where are we and when was the last time we met?"

"Don't you remember?", she asked and wondered whether this could be a younger Doctor, one who had never been to Manhattan, who had come across her by accident. The thought hurt for some reason. Was this how River always felt like?

"Answer the question, Amy." Still this harsh tone. It had to be important, then.

"We're in New York, and the last time we met was in…", she tried her best to keep her voice steady, "in Manhattan."

"But you can't be here…" he whispered, sounding almost anxious. "It's not possible…"

"This is where the Angels sent us, Doctor. Me and Rory. We got here about two years ago, Rory got a job in a local hospital, I took one in the grocery shop. We lived in the city for a while, until we had enough money to buy the house."

He stared at her, complete confusion written all over his face again, along with a tint of cautiousness. "What was the first thing I ever said to you?"

She could do nothing but to stare back, fighting back the tears. Some of them were sad ones - he didn't trust her, how could he not trust her - but most of them were tears of joy. He'd said they'd never meet again, and now she had him back.

"Can I have an apple. You asked for an apple."

The hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Amelia Pond. It's really you."

"Of course it is, idiot. Who else? Did you already forget what I look like?"

He laughed. "Did I make you wait again. Well, you should've known."

"Yeah," she answered, grinning.

He jumped over the fence with a surprisingly light movement for these over-long limbs and hugged her so tightly it almost hurt. "Pond, you'd better appreciate this because I've got no idea what the hell is happening right now."

"Me neither," she admitted with a laugh and buried her fingers in his jacket - he'd abandoned the tweed, she noticed suddenly. Wriggling out of his hug and taking a few steps backwards, she scrutinized her friend. He looked older, she thought, which was odd because he couldn't really be, could he?

"What happened to the tweed?"

He shrugged. "It got too heavy to carry. I wanted something without bad memories."

How could he say something so sad and look so happy at the same time?

"I still liked it better," she decided, ignoring his comment because there was nothing she could say.

"Yeah, well, sorry. I was in need of change, and I like it."

"You kept the bow tie," she teased, reminiscent of their usual banter.

"Bow. Ties. Are. Cool," he snapped back, a smile in his eyes.

Usually, she would have rolled her eyes at this, but this time she could just laugh. Gosh, she'd missed him so much.

"Hey, who's that?" she asked and nodded towards the TARDIS.

"He's from London," he explains. "I'm helping him look for a friend."

"London, what time?" she inquired and glanced over the small man in the horrid jumper who walked over to them.

"2010." He turned to John and rambled: "John Watson - Amy Pond, Amy - John."

"Hi," John said and threw her a smile. "Friend of yours?"

A malicious grin on his lips, the Doctor replied: "Mother in law."

"You married a two year-old?"

Amy chuckled about that. She was starting to like this guy. "Time travel, it's not that easy. When I first met my daughter, she was in her forties."

A deep frown appeared on John's face. "I'm afraid I can't follow."

"Well, come on in. You can do the explaining," she her best friend a poisonous glare, "son in law."


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