Episode: Silence in the Catacombs
Chapter: Hello, Sweetie [1/6]
Summary: Amy Pond wanted a peaceful outing, just for once. Doctor River Song wanted a lift from her partner in crime. Father Octavian wanted an army to defeat one of the most terrifying monsters in the galaxy. The Master wanted everything to start making sense again. Or the one where legends and statues come to life and the past and the future conspire against Amy and the Master.
Rating: T
Amy looks at the planet, with its mesmerizing purple clouds and cerulean grass, round fluffy flowers in shades of green everywhere – and presses the button to see the next.
She feels like she's been at it for hours, but it has only been about fifteen or twenty minutes. Still, she'll be damned if she quits before finding somewhere cool yet nice for her last trip before the Raggedy Man joins her in the control room.
He's taking a shower now, or something, feeling much better than the day before.
Yes, the day before. Amy still can't believe how quickly Time Lords heal, but apparently, all he has left to deal with is some soreness and so they can move on.
Amy still doesn't trust his definition of 'better', though. So that's why she's here, in the control room, checking on the list of planets the TARDIS has put together after she asked for a place for a calm trip.
The issue is finding the balance between 'calm' and 'boring'.
On Amy's first encounter with the Doctor, he closed a crack into an alien prison. On the second, twelve years later, he finally returned to hunt down the escaped prisoner and scold the careless guards. Two years after that, he came to pick Amy up for an apology trip to Starship UK, in the twenty-ninth century, where they met the Queen and saved a Space Whale. Amy convinced him to take her on two more trips, so they answered a call to meet Churchill on 1941, and now Amy has one last adventure to enjoy.
Only, after how their last trip ended, she is willing to put aside all her hopes for yet more exciting adventures in favor of someplace a bit calmer, where he won't be able to find any trouble.
1941, the middle of the London Blitz. Churchill's call, a month before their arrival, was to ask the Doctor's opinion about some super robots a Scottish inventor created to help win the war. By the time they got there, though, Churchill was convinced of how good they were and refused to accept they were actually alien.
Daleks. The creatures that had exterminated the Doctor's species, who had destroyed his planet, and who technically should have died with it. The Doctor freaked out, holed himself in the TARDIS for an hour, and, when he'd finally come out, he refused any kind of name and had threatened to kill Churchill to try to unmask the Daleks.
He got himself shot instead, managed to give a speech about the Daleks truly being Daleks instead of Ironsides, and had had to chase them into their spaceship to stop them from using his words to revive their race.
As he'd told her this morning, after Amy helped him out of the infirmary's machines but before he could run away to shower, he failed.
The Daleks had created better ones, who had obliterated the Ironside models and escaped while the Doctor returned to Earth to stop Bracewell from blowing it up.
Only, he may have not been completely sincere about that. He had played with his words, left enough unsaid or worded vaguely to give an impression that was actually different than the truth. He had made it seem as if Bracewell was a sleeper agent of the Daleks, but as he'd confessed to Amy, he was actually a cyborg.
The Daleks aren't telepathic, Time Lords are telepathic. The Doctor had hypnotized Bracewell into thinking the Daleks had hypnotized him, and thus deactivated the bomb.
Humans don't blow up, and Bracewell was human. So, no explosion.
Amy is still trying to wrap her head around that, but she had let him go take his shower and relocated to the control room instead of trying to get an actual comprehensible explanation out of him. His insistence on big words and precise terms, combined with his reluctance to breach the topic and the lingering gloom from the encounter, hadn't helped.
Not even the TARDIS' efforts had seemed to have an effect on that, though she'd been extremely helpful with everything else.
The TARDIS had put an extra bed in the infirmary while Amy was talking with Churchill and Bracewell, right next to the Doctor's machine. She had been able to sleep like a baby and hold the Doctor's uninjured hand all through the night, to keep at bay nightmares – his and hers.
Amy's not sure if it was her presence or something the TARDIS put in his drip, but he had slept peacefully all night long too.
Still, Amy thinks a picnic somewhere alien enough but not too exciting will be for the best. All his organs are working properly now, second heart included, and his fingers are attached and perfectly functional too, if still working on the lingering burns. But still…
"I can't believe how hard it is to find someplace that's nice but not a spa," she grumbles to herself, pulling up yet another planet. "I know we could always go to Earth, past or future, but I really want to see more of space. I mean, so far, all I've seen is the UK of the future and the one of the past. What about, say, Mars? Can't we go to Mars?" she asks the TARDIS, but the next pictures are definitely not from Mars, judging by the underwater city they show. "Atlantis. Yay. So not what I signed for."
And, as if in answer to her bemoaning, a phone rings.
Amy's first reaction is to reach into her pocket, but she soon realizes it is not hers.
It's the TARDIS'.
The same phone that Churchill called.
"Oh, you have to be kidding. I know he said he's better now, but I don't think this is what he needs," she tells the TARDIS, walking around the console to see that, yes, the flip phone's screen is lighted up. "Please tell me it's not something crazy," she whispers under her breath before taking a deep breath and flipping the phone open. "Hello?"
"Hello, Amelia," the person on the other side answers calmly, and Amy startles as she recognizes the voice.
"Raggedy Man? How many phones do you have in this place?" she asks, looking back to the corridors to make sure he really isn't there and playing some kind of prank on her.
"Who knows?" he answers with a shrug that's almost audible, and Amy rolls her eyes with a huff. "Listen, I know what our next destination will be. The Delerium Archive, 171st century. It'll be fun."
"Your definition of fun is most often than not synonym of danger, you know. Or something gross," she tells him with a smile but with her nose scrunched, shaking her head. "Your sense of humor is all twisty, Raggedy Man."
"That's what Rule 6 is for," he tells her with a smile she can practically hear through the phone, and Amy frowns when she realizes she doesn't know that one. "If I ever scare you, if it ever looks like I'm losing my mind… Rule 6. Remember that one."
Alarm bells start tolling in Amy's mind.
Is this new rule because of that scene in the laboratory, when he ordered the Ironsides to shoot him? Has he finally realized how much he scared her, how much Amy cares about him, and is trying to fix it? Is there something else she should worry about?
"Raggedy Man? What is that about? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's good to know you have something like that in place, but you already have Rules 1 and 2," she points out, trying to come across as merely curious to see if she really needs to stage another intervention.
Perhaps she should have taken Rory along. It's starting to look more and more like having a trained nurse around might be beneficial to both the Doctor's health and Amy's sanity.
But with just one trip left on the horizon, why worry?
… Well, because this is the Raggedy Doctor. Of course Amy will worry.
"I have a good feeling about this next adventure. It'll be magnificent," he tells her instead of answering, sounding more cheerful and perkier than his previous calm, and Amy can't help but relax, chalking it to his still being sore and tired from their last trip. "We'll see it all the way through, won't we?"
"Don't we always?" Amy retorts with a snort, pressing a couple keys to get the planet list off the screen and leaning against the controls. "Besides, if this is going to be my last trip, I'm going to get as much out of it as I can."
"That's the spirit…" he whispers, his voice trailing off almost as if in a sigh, and Amy tenses all over again.
"Raggedy Man? Are you alright? Where are you, do you need help?" she asks, worried and looking at the corridors, waiting for a sign as to where to go.
The last thing she wants is to realize they missed something, or that he should've staid in the machines for longer, and find him passed out somewhere. Or, worse, find out he passed out but not know where.
"Amy, it's alright. I'm just a bit tired, that's all. Remind me to take a break when all this is over," he answers reassuringly, amusement in his voice, and Amy relaxes once more against the console.
"If I find out you lied to me, you're grounded!" she scoffs, and blushes when she realizes what she just said, hearing him chuckle on the other side. "Oh God, I sound like your babysitter. Is that what I am now, your babysitter? Ugh, whatever," she huffs, smiling mostly to herself but hoping he can hear it in her voice too. "Alright, I'll play babysitter this once, but this way we're even, you hear me?"
"I owe you," he tells her, and Amy rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to repeat that they are even, not owing anyone anything because that's not how friendship works, but he speaks before she can. "I'll take care of you. Whatever happens, however dark it gets, I'll take care of you. Never doubt that."
It's the emotion in his voice, the promise, which steals Amy's breath away and takes her back to that night fourteen years ago, when her Raggedy Doctor had held her hand and smiled at her and told her to trust him.
Her Raggedy Man, her Raggedy Doctor… Hurt as he is, broken and grieving, with all those bad memories brought back by the Daleks…
Amy smiles. Her Raggedy Doctor is still here, no matter what.
So, Amy takes a deep breath, finally putting to rest all those terrifying dark thoughts about him choosing to blow himself up with the Daleks, and feels light enough to simply float off the ground.
"I know, Doctor. I could never forget."
"Doctor…" he repeats, fond and exasperated at the same time, and Amy's eyes widen in realization before she hurries to apologize, because he doesn't want to be called that despite the fact it is his name. "Always the Doctor, isn't that right?" he muses, ignoring her stammering, almost as if he was talking to himself, and Amy stills, frowning in confusion. "Thanks, Amy. And don't worry. It'll be alright."
And the call cuts.
For about half a minute, Amy can do nothing but stand there, frowning at empty air, before she finally comes back to herself and flips the phone closed.
What was that about? Is he really feeling better? Because, right now, she's more inclined towards worry than relief.
She has just put the phone back in its slot, pondering over whether he's really cheered up or just had a moment, when she hears footsteps from the central corridor.
The Raggedy Man is walking out without the limp or any stiffness of the day before, clad in comfy blue jeans and a gray sweater over a white shirt, and muttering unintelligibly under his breath as he glares at the wall. The only signs of his being injured just the day before, actually, are the bandages carefully wrapped around his right hand and forearm, and likely the reason for his rolled-up sleeves.
"Are you talking to yourself?" Amy asks before she can think about it, and the Raggedy Man startles, as if surprised to see her there, before rolling his eyes and waving his bandaged hand dismissively without any sign of pain or stiffness.
"Why would I do that? It's not like I'm crazy, or something. Now, ready for the next trip?" he asks with a huge grin, and Amy smiles in relief before straightening with a chuckle.
Looks like it's both, him having cheered up and having a moment. Oh well, he did warn her he was weird.
"The Delerium Archive, 171st century. Ready to go!" Amy answers, boxing a bit in show, and he looks startled for a moment before throwing his head back with a bark of laughter and a huge smirk.
"Alright! Largest museum in the universe, here we come!"
And Amy's smile slips off her face at the words. A museum? Did he seriously con her into going to a museum?
But as she watches him adjust the controls, cackling in glee as they take speed and the bubble strings piston inside the central column, Amy decides to let it slide. At least she'll get a million tales in one single trip.
Though, as she discovers when they actually get there, she gets more than a million tales, especially once the Doctor sees some of the labels on the exhibits and scoffs at just how wrong they are. So, Amy gets some brief interesting facts and a lot of anecdotes, as well as more accurate explanations about the items in particular. She also learns that the Archive is the final resting place of the Headless Monks, called such because they believed in trusting the heart over the mind.
It's a strange outing, even with all the alien exhibits, but it's still quite fun, once the Doctor gets more into the stories and his gloom lifts completely. Maybe later they'll stop in some market or something, get a bite, visit some 'tourist spots', and that'll be it, but Amy's pretty sure she won't feel as disappointed as she first thought she would.
"What's a home box?" Amy asks when she reads the few lines of text on the next glass exhibit, frowning in confusion at the rusted box with all the strange symbols on it.
"It records all flight data of the ship and, if something happens, flies back to base," the Doctor explains absentmindedly, twisting his head this way and that in front of another of the exhibits at Amy's back.
"Like a black box?"
"Let's say it's the improved version," he answers with a shrug, finally looking up with a lifted eyebrow. "What's so interesting about a home box? Other than its age."
"Says here that this one belonged to the starliner Byzantium, which crashed after being sabotaged. No survivors."
"Boooring," he drawls, turning back to the display and twisting his head the other way, as if that would help him make sense of what looks like a bunch of French presses.
Amy snorts but looks down at the text one more time, frowning, before analyzing the box. She squints and tilts her head, but the symbols don't change. The TARDIS translates everything in her head, spoken and written languages alike, but it takes a bit for it to do so with text. And yet, whatever is written on the box doesn't change to English.
"Hey, Raggedy Man, I found another wrong exhibit," Amy calls with a huff when she confirms that the symbols aren't actual text. "They say here that someone carved a message on this home box, likely the saboteur, and no one has been able to decipher it. But the TARDIS doesn't translate it," she explains as the Doctor joins her by the exhibit, grinning widely at the opportunity to insult people some more, and Amy doesn't even roll her eyes anymore, just gesturing at the box. "See? No text, the saboteur was just messing with them."
And then she looks up and sees the Raggedy Man has gone pale and his jaw is hanging open in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" Amy hurries to ask, resting a hand on his arm, and he blinks and closes his mouth with a sharp inhale.
"That's Old High Gallifreyan. The lost language of the Time Lords," he answers with a breathy voice, carefully resting his hand on the glass. "The language that could burn stars, raise up empires and topple gods. The TARDIS doesn't translate Gallifreyan. She can't, Gallifreyan doesn't translate," he explains, refocusing on the present and recovering some color, and Amy looks down at the graffitied box with a small frown.
"What does it say?" she asks, meeting his pale green eyes.
The Doctor takes a breath, swallows once and opens his mouth.
"Hello, sweetie."
AN: If I'd been told two-parters would be this hard to write, I would have thought twice before starting… Then again, you can blame it on River and Moffat too. And the fact the whole of the Doctor Who series is one big ball of wibbly wobbly timey-wimey stuff.