Crash Landing on [Who?]

As soon as it started, Callie knew this was gonna be worse than normal.

The gold was burning hot as it spread over her skin, quick as a match being lit. She could literally feel the Time Vortex ripping through her veins— fire covering her inside and out. She writhed and wriggled in the in-between space she often went when she jumped, but no matter what she did the pain would not abate.

If anything, her movements just made everything so much worse.

It was even more painful than when she'd been physically inside the Vortex, oh so long ago. Instead of the Vortex blistering her skin, it was boiled her blood and consumed her from the inside out.

She was so blinded by gold, she couldn't even see how the Vortex broke through her skin in parts, bursting through like miniature sunbeams shining through cracks in a wall. But she felt it— oh, she felt it so acutely she thought she might die.

Was she going to explode? Would the Vortex currently coursing through her insides rip its way out, burning her into nothing? Would she be left in ribbons, reduced to smoldering bits of a woman on the floor somewhere? As the jump lasted longer and longer, all she could think was that she wasn't going to survive this. This was too much Time Energy, even for Callie. No one could survive such an inferno inside.

The Doctor had warned her not to put off the jump, but maybe it was already too late. Maybe this was it, and Callie would be no more.

An eternity passed, and then another one. Normally, her jumps felt instantaneous almost, but not this one. She felt every second that passed like it was a year— and then she dropped into the Time Vortex proper. The gold ebbed from her eyes enough for her to see the swirling golden column around her as she dropped.

Down.

Down.

Down.

So very much like that first day, when everything changed. So very much like earlier than night, when she fell in the air during an air raid.

She never wanted to fall like this again.

Callie screamed— a guttural roar bursting through her lips without her permission. Fire licked down her throat until she clamped her lips shut tight. Her long, golden curls whipped into her face as she fell down the Vortex, so completely surrounded by golden energy that she couldn't tell the different between the Vortex, the energy in her eyes, or even her hair. Everything was gold, and everything was pain.

The Golden Child, born of the Time Vortex and filled with it in her veins.

Then— just as she was sure this couldn't possibly go on any longer— the Vortex opened beneath her feet. She fell straight out of the Vortex and down through the night sky. The gold faded from her vision just in time for her to see the green grass speeding up on her.

Then, she slammed straight into the ground.

Callie came to in slow bursts.

The first time, the ache in the side of her head was the only sensation she could focus on. Without even opening her eyes, she scrunched her face in pain and let out a pitiful whine. She tried to open her eyes— but they were so, so heavy, and soon she was pulled back under.

The second time, there was talking in the background. No— scratch that. Fighting. Two voices, muffled by walls and closed doors, yelling at each other. It made Callie's headache worse, increasing the pounding in her skull and the piercing pain behind her eyes.

She tried to move her arms, tried to shift in the bed, but her limbs felt leaden and heavy. Blearily, her eyes cracked up, only to shut again quickly as the light stabbed her in the eyes. She let out a cry, tears filling behind her eyelids.

The yelling stopped, and footsteps thundered on wood floors. A door slammed open.

Someone spoke near her, but she was already falling back under.

The last time she rose to consciousness, it was eerily silent. Callie's blood rushed in her ears, as loud as a wave breaking on the ocean. Her head still ached, her arms still felt a hundred pounds each, but she finally opened her eyes.

Her eyes watered from the bright sunlight filtering in through the windows. Callie groaned, trying to shift so she could sit up. Her arms shook with exertion.

Where was she? She could see that she was in a bedroom, but whose?

Maybe the room wasn't anyone's— it was cold, impersonal. White walls with soulless paintings hung in perfect intervals, a dresser with nothing but a simple clock on top of a doily for decoration. Even the comforter covering Callie's lap was grey, thin, and provided no real warmth.

Her head spun as she pushed until she rested against the wooden headboard. Through bleary eyes, she saw her arms were fully wrapped in filmy white gauze all the way to her fingertips. She shifted her legs and— yep, it appeared that she was almost fully wrapped up.

So, someone was taking care of her. That was good— but still, who was it? Obviously, she hadn't run back into the Doctor yet. She would be in the TARDIS if she had.

Her head snapped to the side when the sound of footsteps filled the room. She groaned, the sharp movement sending the world spinning inside her head. The footsteps hurried, and the white wooden door opened with a slam.

"Hello," Amy said baldly, staring at Callie with an air of wonder. Callie sighed, relaxing slightly at the familiar face. "You're finally awake."

"Yeah, I guess," Callie said, wincing. The words scratched their way out of her raw, dry throat with great pain. She swallowed, but it did nothing to help. "Where are we?"

Amy furrowed her eyebrows. She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorjamb. "My house. Where else would we be?"

Callie blinked. If she had been in her right mind and not still reeling from the hellish jump she'd just endured, she might have realized just how weird this was. Might have realized she needed to play this differently. But, of course, she was still reeling from her jump and was not in her right mind, so—

"The… TARDIS? Obviously?"

Amy eyebrows rose, her entire body visibly tensing. "The TARDIS. Is that the name of the police box?"

Callie blinked.

"What?"

Amy pushed herself off the doorjamb, sauntering into the room. She looked just like she always did as an adult, but her face was stony. Like she wasn't happy to see Callie— like she was angry at her. Instead of answering Callie's question, she asked, "How are you feeling? You were pretty burned when you crashed into the garden."

"Like I fell out of the sky and crashed into a garden," Callie responded dryly. Not to be deterred, she added, "But what do you mean, 'is that the name of the police box'? Amy, when exactly—"

Amy plopped down on the bed next to Callie's legs, and it was all Callie could do not to scream in pain.

"Why are you calling me 'Amy'?"

"Oh my god, I'm in too much pain for this," Callie gasped, her head spinning. She shifted, and the burns littering her body flared painfully. It was a struggle to collect her thoughts. "Amy— Amelia. You haven't seen me since you were a little girl, have you?"

"You talk like you've seen me since then." Amelia did not sound amused.

Callie opened her mouth, then closed it again. Floundering. It was hard to concentrate with all the pain, but she pushed through. Tried to figure out what to say.

She didn't want to get it wrong. Amy— Amelia— whatever, was important to her, and to the Doctor. She didn't want to mess up and say something wrong, especially since this was sometime in the twelve years between the Doctor's visits. This time was important.

"How much did the Doctor explain to you— when you were seven, I mean?" she asked carefully.

"You disappeared into thin air," Amy replied, her eyes guarded. She clearly didn't trust Callie. It hurt, but Callie understood. Amy wouldn't even trust the Doctor at first when he arrived, and Callie had been present for much less time.

Callie wasn't Amy's magical imaginary friend, after all.

"Right— I jumped," Callie muttered. Amy raised her eyebrows. "I'll explain, I promise. But I need to know what you already know first."

"Or," Amy argued, "you can just explain everything and if I have any questions, I'll ask."

Callie sighed. "The TARDIS— the police box— is a time machine. The Doctor uses it to travel throughout the universe, often running into aliens like the one in the crack in your wall. Prisoner Zero, right?"

Amy's stunned silence was all the confirmation she needed.

"And since the TARDIS crashed— something went wrong. The Doctor left, but promised to be back."

"You can't know that," Amy whispered in shock. "You weren't there. You disappeared before any of that happened."

"I'm kind of a special circumstance," Callie said awkwardly. She was about to say more, to try to explain jumping, when a door downstairs slammed so loudly that both women jumped.

"Aunt Sharon's home," Amy muttered, turning to look through the open door and down the hall. "Stay here," she told Callie, as if Callie was in any sort of state to go wandering off.

Amy hurried out of the room, down the stairs, and out of view. Callie sighed, slumping back against the wood of the headrest. Her head still hurt dully, but fortunately that was fading fast.

Still, it was taking more time than usual. That fact, coupled with the whole body burns she was now sporting, showed how badly this jump had gone. She'd never been actually injured from a jump before.

God, she just wanted to go back to the TARDIS. Curl up in her safe bed, the TARDIS humming softly all around her. Distant noises as the Doctor worked in the console room.

Home. She wanted to go home.

It would be soon, wouldn't it? Obviously, the Doctor hadn't come back for Amy yet, but it must be any day now. Amy looked just the same as she did when they dealt with the Weeping Angels. And anyway, Callie's jumped were tied to the Doctor. The most she'd ever been off was when she arrived a few minutes before he did.

All she had to do was wait, and he would come. And hopefully he had nanogenes, or something of the sort, in the TARDIS that could heal her.

Voice floated up through the stairway, drawing Callie's attention. Amy and her aunt were arguing downstairs, their voices getting louder with each word. Amy's aunt sounded pissed. She was yelling about—

Oh. It seemed Aunt Sharon wasn't happy that Amy had brought Callie into their house. Her footsteps practically shook the whole house as she stormed up the stairs, and then Aunt Sharon appear in Callie's doorway like there was a storm on her tail.

Aunt Sharon was a fierce-looking, but well-put-together woman. Her dark hair was pulled up in a sleek updo, her skirt pressed and her shirt tucked. She even wore stockings! Callie found her quite intimidating, to say the least.

"Aunt Sharon—" Amy cried, coming up the stairs behind her.

"Good, you're finally up," Aunt Sharon snapped at Callie, ignoring her niece. Her hands planted themselves on her hips, giving her the aura of a very strict schoolteacher. "You can get out of my house now, thanks."

"Um—" Callie started.

"She's hurt," Amy argued, pushing past her aunt to get into the room. She stood between them, partially blocking Callie's view of Aunt Sharon. As if she were protecting Callie. "She's not going anywhere."

"If she's so hurt, she can go to the hospital," Aunt Sharon said tersely. "They'll take lovely care of her there." Callie was interested to notice that she had much more of an English accent than Amy— proof Amy purposefully hung onto her Scottish accent in an attempt to reject her English home.

"Rory can take care of her just fine here," Amy insisted. Oh— suddenly the well-wrapped bandages across Callie's whole body made a lot more sense. Rory was a trained nurse and obviously knew how to bandage a patient properly.

Callie chose not to think about the bandages underneath her clothes, and what they implied.

"It's okay, Am— Amelia," Callie said, catching herself before using the wrong name. "I can call someone to come get me."

She turned, swallowing a cry as her skin burned with the movement, to look for her phone. Surely Amy would have left it on the bedside table, right?

But it wasn't there. In fact, as far as Callie could see from the confines of her bed, it wasn't anywhere in the room.

"See, she can leave—" Aunt Sharon started, and at the same time Callie asked, "Where's my phone?"

"You can use mine to make a call, if you must," Aunt Sharon said impatiently, opening the purse she had slung over her shoulder.

"Amy, where's my phone?" Callie tried again, her breath quickening. She could not have lost her phone already! River had said the TARDIS wouldn't make another— "It's about this big, looks like clear plastic but lights up when you touch it."

"Just use mine—" Aunt Sharon said, holding her flip phone out for Callie to take.

"No, I need mine," Callie insisted, anxiety tightening inside her chest. "My contacts— I can't call River or the Doctor without—"

"I didn't see anything like that when I found you," Amy said quickly. She patted Callie's hair awkwardly, like she wanted to comfort her but didn't really know how. "I'll go look again, okay?" Amy dragged her aunt out of the room, whispering fiercely in her ear.

Callie was left alone, and it felt like the world was spinning. She ignored her screaming burns and the tight hold of her bandages, curling herself forward until she was in a little ball in the middle of the bed.

No phone meant she couldn't call the Doctor to hurry up. Couldn't call River to come pick her up. Couldn't call Jack, or Rose, or Clara—

But the Doctor would be there soon. She didn't need to worry— she wasn't going to be trapped in Leadworth for long.

She repeated the thought four more times before her chest finally began to loosen.

Amelia hadn't searched the garden well after hearing Callie crash land into the bushes. After insisting, quite harshly, that Aunt Sharon allow Callie to stay as long as possible and to leave her alone, she went back to the garden for a proper look.

It still didn't feel real, her imaginary friend appearing in her back yard once more. Between the two of them, Callie had always seemed more magical. Hell, the woman had disappeared into thin air before Amelia's very eyes! Her eyes glowed! A magic, time traveling box had nothing on that.

It wasn't hard for Amelia to find the phone— if that really was what it was. It was just like Callie described: it was rectangular, and made of a heavy, clear plastic. When Amelia brushed the dirt off the front, the plastic lit up with multiple apps and notifications.

Amelia marveled at the futuristic phone for a moment, before frowning. Callie wanted to call someone— some River— and leave. And Amelia would be all alone, once more.

Rory and Mels were nice— were important— but they didn't understand. Didn't believe in the Raggedy Doctor or Callie, the Golden Angel. No matter how Amelia loved them, they were never able to fully alleviate the loneliness that crushed her from within.

Carefully, Amelia slipped the phone into her back pocket before returning to the house.

"No luck," Amy said as she reentered the bedroom. "Sorry."

Callie deflated, uncurling herself from her little ball. "'S okay. My fault anyway. I shouldn't have dropped it."

"You can stay here as long as you need," Amy said confidently. "Aunt Sharon won't bother you. Once you can move around some, we can look for your phone or find a way to get in touch with someone for you."

Callie took a steadying breath. "It's okay. The Doctor will come for me."

Amy frowned, sitting back on the bed. This time, she climbed all the way on top and crossed her legs, facing Callie. "He said he would come back for me, but he hasn't. It's been almost twelve years."

"I never got to explain about my disappearing that day," Callie said, not-so-gracefully changing the subject. Amy didn't call her out on it, though, so she launched into a halting, and probably not very good, explanation of her Time Jumping ability and how it had gone so wrong and hurt her this time.

She carefully avoided mentioning knowing Amy in her future.

Slowly, as she spoke, Amy's shoulder's relaxed. "So, you can't control it at all?"

"I tried this time, and it nearly killed me."

"Are you going to… jump now?"

Callie shook her head. "I get a headache and can see the gold of the Time Vortex before it happens," she said. "Honestly, I hope it doesn't happen for a while. I don't know if I would survive another jump before all this heals up."

Amy's eyebrows furrowed. "I'll call Rory, see if he can change your bandages. The burn cream seemed to help before."

Though Callie was still upset about her lost phone, about almost dying from the jump, and was still in incredible pain— the thought of finally meeting Rory was enough to put a smile on her face.

"What's that smile for?" Amy asked suspiciously as she pulled out her own phone. It was so very 2010— a sleek gray phone that slid up to reveal the keyboard.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Callie said instead of explaining. "You really didn't have to."

"Shut up, of course I did," Amy muttered, texting Rory as she spoke.

"You could've taken me to a hospital, like your aunt wanted." Amy spluttered at that.

"You have glowing eyes and jump throughout time and space!" She said, waving her hand. "Who knows what the doctors would have found when they x-rayed you. Did you want to end up in a museum?"

Callie's smile grew fond. While Jack had been almost unrecognizable when she met him the his first time, Amy was just the same as Callie has always known her to be. Caring, but abrasive. Worried, but abrupt. Loves you, but refuses to say it.

If Callie had to end up anywhere before the Doctor showed up, she was glad she ended up with Amy.

A/N: Is this the best chapter ever? No, it most certainly is not. Am I still going to post it just so I can fucking get past it and move on with the story after six months? Yes, yes I am.

Sorry for the long break. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up soon! Please drop a review letting me know what you thought :)