Yep, change of labelling. See my profile if you already didn't know. Sorry, Rory/Amy fans, it just wouldn't have worked.

There's a line some people might recognise from Utopia at the end of this chapter. Its usage is deliberate.

Big rating reminder on this chapter.

Leave a review! Need to know people are still reading this.

Love is a decision - not an emotion.
~ Anon

CHAPTER 16. Don't Look Back – 24 October 2010

She rifles through the mangled remains of the house, desperately searching for what she needs. What she wants. What she's always wanted. She ignores the splinters in her hands, the fierce heat of the flames rising in the ruins. She doesn't care about them, she's already destroyed everything she loves, everything she's known. What's a little more pain amongst the multitude of daggers slicing through her hearts?

Aunt Sharon, left permanently comatose when she refused one too many times to acknowledge what had happened.

Leadworth destroyed by the hands of its own inhabitants, because she decided one day that she hated the little village, had enough of everything about it.

Rory Williams, dead, killed instantly at the crest of an argument over why she couldn't just move on and live her life, like a normal person.

Amelia Pond's pride, loneliness and anger, laid bare for all the world to see.

She should never, ever have come back here. Now, she's made her decision, she knows what she needs to do. What she should have done the moment she left the TARDIS doors and heard that whirring sound for the last time. That sound that had haunted her every moment since.

She lifts one burning piece of wood off the ruins, and spots it. There. That last flicker of something good, something better, something magical. What she should have been all along.

A little blue wooden box.

She grabs it with her shaking, singed hands, hugging it to her chest. She closes her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

It's time.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, to Aunt Sharon, to Rory, to all the lives she's ruined and destroyed in her selfishness. To herself. Above all, to the mad, raggedy man that she should have never have left all those years ago.

She lets go off the box with one hand and grips the cold metal. She raises the pistol to her temple, and squeezes the trigger with her index finger.

Amy awoke, gasping.

Jesus. What the hell was that?

She noticed the unpleasant jolt of brilliant sunshine streaming right into her eyes. Averting them groggily, she gingerly picked herself off the chair.

At least I'm alive. Not shooting myself in the head.

She shook her head. Just a nightmare, that's all. I've had worse. And now after yesterday, I know that that's definitely what WON'T be happening. Right. So forget that.

Her vision began to clear as she rubbed her eyes, and she looked around the room where she had fallen asleep. It was clearly mid-morning (wow, how long did it take me to fall asleep?) and both Rory and the Doctor had gone. She closed her eyes and concentrated, finding no sign of their presence in the wash of temporal and psychic noise that blanketed the city. She was moving towards the entrance hallway to find them when Jack sauntered into the room.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Didn't know Time Lords got so snoozy. I guess you need your beauty sleep more than most, though," he remarked, smirking rougishly.

Amy crossed her arms and tossed her slightly-tousled hair in mock indignation. "Time Lady to you, Captain Harkness, and don't you forget it."

Jack's smirk only widened. "My apologies, Miss Pond. I'll endeavour to improve my standards in future."

Amy had to suppress a giggle at that. "You better. How'd you know, anyway? Did he tell you? I was hoping to do that myself." A disappointed pout.

"Nah, I worked it out pretty fast. You stick out, and you aren't exactly subtle. Not that you should be with your looks."

Seemingly happy with this explanation, Amy walked over to the window, glancing unnecessarily at the leaf-covered street outside. "You seen Rory or the Doctor?"

"Yeah, they left to go get the TARDIS."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why'd Rory go?"

"Doctor mentioned something about fixing the Time Shield. Makes sense – the TARDIS isn't a fan of fixed points in time like immortal old me. Took us to the end of the universe to get try and get rid of me once. That's also why you might feel weird around me."

"Ah, right," Amy noted, understanding why she'd felt that bizarre unexplained instinct every time she'd been in the same room as Jack. "Hang on – Rory went with him because of that? Don't tell me he got him along to help."

Jack swallowed. "Now that you mention it – yeah. Yeah, I think he did."

Amy pursed her lips. "And did he care to explain why he brought him, and didn't bother to wake me up? Or, as I suspect, did he say something about my flying skills?" she asked in a voice far too sweet to be natural. Jack had only just met the Scottish firebrand, but he knew danger when he saw it. He decided to go with honesty.

"I think he might have mentioned that, too. Something about a volcano."

Amy shook her head, her eyes narrowed. "I'll be having words with that man later, believe you me." She caught sight of Jack's military-stiff posture and wide-eyed expression and a snort of laughter escaped her. "Don't worry, I'm not about to take it out on you, handsome. Just make sure you're in a different room when I unload, though."

"Sounds like a plan. Anyway, I was just about to ask what you wanted for breakfast. You're not going to object to anything normal, right? Because that's all we've got here. And please don't ask me for fish fingers and custard, because I am not making that again. Just way too out there for me."

"I'm an alien. Not weird," she retorted. "Normal'll do fine, thanks."

Breakfast was indeed pleasantly normal – fried bacon, scambled eggs, tomatoes and orange juice. Jack, ever the gentleman, had insisted on making it himself despite Amy's protestations that she really could cook it herself. She wouldn't say it out loud, but she had to admit that he did a damn good job of it.

"The Doctor must've been pleased to know he wasn't the last of his kind," he remarked, leaning back on the counter.

"Sort of. I think he felt sort of guilty for a bit, me losing my humanity."

Jack blinked. "Your humanity?"

Amy stopped eating for a moment. "Yeah, about that. I used to be human, up until a couple of months ago. But then something happened, and I turned into a Time Lord."

"Sounds like a long story in there somewhere."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Look forward to hearing it. So how'd you know Katherine?" Jack asked as he leaned back on the counter, watching the Time Lady shovel down a piece of black-rimmed bacon.

"Broad?" Amy just about managed to keep the instinctive contempt out of the word. "Oh, we were schoolmates in Leadworth. She was in the year below mine."

Jack grinned. "I can tell you two aren't best buddies. I got a bit scared for her yesterday, given what you are and all – that would've been one hell of an unfair fight," he mused, recalling the tension in the air when Amy and Katherine had laid eyes on each other.

"Perceptive, aren't ya?"

"I try."

Amy smiled. She was very rapidly warming to the immortal despite her Time Lord instincts. "So do I. Yeah, I guess you could say that. I should probably get over it now – I'll actually give her credit for once and say that she seems to have."

Jack nodded. "There's one thing that's been bugging me about this, though. Especially given that she knew you once. Why'd they go after her for information about Time Lords?"

"Grab information on the Doctor, I guess."

"Yeah, but why her?"

"She knows about him. Or, at least, she knows now. She'd only heard about him before."

"But how?"

"Me, obviously. Did the Doctor tell you how he met?"

"No."

"Long story short, he crashed into my garden when I was seven. Something went wrong with the TARDIS and he had to rush off to fix it. He promised he'd be back in five minutes and take me to see the universe."

Jack saw immediately where this was heading. "And how long did he take to come back?"

"Twelve years. And then another two for good measure."

He flinched. "Ouch. That can't have been fun."

"You're tellin' me."

"So I'm guessing Katherine teased you about it? Bullied you for being a crazy Scottish girl with an imaginary friend who had a time machine?"

"Do I look like a girl who can be bullied?" She retorted, forcing another slice of tomato into her mouth.

"No," he admitted.

"Damn straight. But I worked out who my friends were quick sharp. And Broad was as far from that list as they came."

"That explains a lot," he remarked. "Even so... a hell of a lot of people know about the Doctor."

"And so they went after someone who just happened to know one of his companions. Bit of a coincidence, but hey, these things happen." She shrugged, not seeing the issue.

"And a Time Lady." Having lived as long as he had, Jack had long ceased believing in coincidences.

"So? I haven't exactly advertised myself to the world, you know."

"Not yet, anyway."

She stared at him, puzzled. "What do you mean – oh. Timey wimey, huh?"

"Something like that."

"So you reckon they're going after me?" A bolt of concern shot through Amy, but after last evening, she resolutely pushed it away. This is the life I've chosen. "Well, let them. I can take them."

Jack frowned. "Amy, I don't think you should be so blasé about this. I can see this scares the Doctor, and he doesn't get scared easily. He worries about you, you know." And with good reason, he thought, recalling what the Doctor had told him about the young ginger in front of him.

"He worries about me a lot. Too much. It's sweet of him, but it does get annoying from time to time."

"He has your best interests at heart, you know."

"That's what makes it sweet."

"Quite the couple, you two," he remarked, only mostly joking.

"Don't go playing matchmaker now," Amy warned him. "I'm engaged, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Duly noted." He hesitated before continuing. No point continuing this charade. For her sake. "When are you going to tell him?"

"Sorry, what?" Amy asked, taken aback. "Tell who what?"

"Rory. When are you going to tell him?" Amy just stared blankly at him, uncomprehending. "Amy, you know what I'm talking about. What you're planning to do."

Amy continued to stare for a few more seconds, then the penny dropped. Her eyes became circle-round, the knife and fork clattering from her trembling hands onto the plate. Her mouth fluttered open and closed. "How... how do you know about that?" She whispered.

He smiled sympathetically. "I've been around a long time, Amy. I can tell. Don't worry, I'm not judging you or anything. It's natural – to you, he's the alien now. It makes sense that you'd, erm, go with your own."

Amy shook her head emphatically. "It's not like that. It definitely isn't like that." Jack looked unconvinced. "Look, Jack, you're right, I am gonna call us off, but it's for Rory's sake. I'm doing this for him."

"But surely if you love him that much, you can get around it?"

She shook her head again. "You don't understand. How dangerous I am to him. How much I'll ruin his life if I try to live a normal life with him. It's the old saying – if you love them, let them go. That's what I'm doing. Otherwise I'll kill him. And myself, because I'll never be able to live with myself if – when – I do."

Jack gazed at the young Time Lady's vivid green eyes, searching them for any trace of a lie or a misdirection. There was none to be found – she genuinely believed what she'd just said. Even so... he couldn't possibly miss the way the two Time Lords interacted, even in the brief time he'd gotten to know Amy. The way that they seemed to be able to communicate with no more than a raised eyebrow and a glance. He decided that it would be best if he left it to them to work it out themselves. They surely will. In time.

"Alright. I get it. So when are you going to tell him?"

Amy broke from his gaze, staring out the kitchen window. He could clearly see the anguish this decision had caused her. Was causing her. Would cause her when the time came. "When I'm ready."

He nodded, slowly. Relieved that the subject had been closed, Amy returned to her breakfast. "So where's Broad now? Taking one last stroll of the neighbourhood?" She asked, scooping up another forkful of scrambled egg.

Jack laughed. "Nah. I told her to stay indoors at all times."

"I doubt she's listening, to be honest. She's stubborn, you know. Like me, I guess."

"Yeah, well, it's for her own good."

Amy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Way too dangerous, she'd almost certainly get ambushed without protection. Precept may be goons, but they're 50th century goons with vortex manipulators and someone nasty behind them – they'd track her down in a flash." He noticed Amy's frown hadn't dissipated, but had in fact deepened. She closed her eyes and placed her fingers on her temple. "Why? What is it, Amy?"

"Quiet." Jack knew an order when he was given one. Amy sat motionless for several seconds, plainly concentrating on something. What's she doing? It's as if she's trying to do something with her psychic... oh. OH. That's not good. At all.

"Where is she, Amy? Tell me. Right now." He asked quietly, fear rising in his throat. Oh please, please, please be nearby. Please.

The girl opened her eyes at last.

"Not here."

Katherine marched down the street, wrapping the black coat around her petite body. A thousand random thoughts buzzed through her head like angry wasps. She was aware of Captain Jack's warning to her. Under no circumstances was she to leave the house.

Like I was gonna listen. When have I ever let people push me around? I'm not going far, anyway. Just one last stroll around the place where I live, see the sights one last time. That's all.

She'd been scarcely able to sleep the previous night. She was already shaken by the experience of being caught in a dark alley and threatened with things she didn't want to even contemplate by strange men who had blabbered about something she had no comprehension of. Then, just when things were taking a decided turn for the worse, she'd saved from certain death and worse by an equally strange man with what could only be laser guns. She wasn't so shaken by having her life put in danger, but the things they said they'd do to her, had been doing to her... she shuddered at both the memory and the thought.

Last night was the last straw. She'd been thrown utterly by the re-entrance of those three people into her life having. One whom she secretly quite liked, one of whom she'd sworn didn't exist and one who'd she'd hoped never to see again.

Especially not in these circumstances. Guilt didn't come naturally to her, but boy, when it came, it made its presence felt, wrapping its cold hands around her throat and holding on for dear life.

Life always comes back to bite you in the arse, eh? Turns out Mad Amelia Pond wasn't so mad after all. But she is angry. Katherine knew what Amy Pond was like when she was angry. Especially after whatever had happened when Amy was fifteen – she'd turned from a girl whose rages and tantrums were moderately frightening but provided a consistent and reliable source of adrenaline rush for the group of school girls she'd been at the head of, to a girl that had put some of them in hospital. No, she didn't want to get on the wrong side of Amy Pond's temper right now. Especially now that she was going to have to live with her.

On a bigger-on-the-inside time machine. Yeah. Work that one out. I'd call Jack mad too, and he probably is, but he did save my life, so I guess I have to go along. She had no idea what to expect. All of time and space... what the hell did that even mean?

So she'd decided to take a walk. Clear her mind. Steel herself for whatever curveball fate was about to throw her way next, what insane turn her life was going to take.

She continued her brisk walk down the street, not really knowing where she was going, engrossed in her own tattered thoughts. So much so that she bumped straight into a lamp post.

She swore softly, rubbing her head where it had made contact with the cold iron. She took the break in her train of thought as an opportunity to take one last look at the tranquility of St. John's Wood. Such a beautiful place to live. Pity it's now filled with people who want to rape and kill me, and can teleport. Apparently.

The sunlight glinting off a street post caught her eye, and she glanced at it. She was surprised to see that it wasn't where she had expected to be at all – she'd gone about two streets further than she'd intended. Oops. Didn't even notice. Probably should go back now. She looked around for a shortcut and spotted a narrow alleyway between two terraced houses. That'll do. Save me about ten minutes of walking. She turned on the spot and headed over to the alleyway, briefly pausing to peek around the corner to glance within. It was empty. Obviously. Don't be stupid. They're not gonna just wait in some alleyway for you. She wrapped her coat back around her, pulling it tight, and moved down the darkened alleyway.

She was halfway to the other side when there was a sudden noise, akin to arcing electricity, and a small rush of air. She froze.

Out of nowhere, a person had appeared in the alleyway, right in front of her.

"Well, my pretty," the bald, dark-suited man said, a cruel, leering smile on his face, "you didn't really think you could get away that easily, did you?"

Oh shit. She turned and sprinted as fast as she could in the other direction, but she'd barely made ten metres before another crackling noise rent the air and she ran headlong into another man, this one wearing a leather jacket, who forcefully spun her around and crushed her against him, pulling her into a dark cleft where they were out the sight of the street beyond. She tried to scream, but his other hand was clasped firmly over her mouth, and all she got out was a pathetic muffled moan.

"So, Miss Broad," the first man drawled, an evil glint in his eye. "Shall we have our fun now, or shall you tell us about the Time Lords first?"

She closed her eyes, readying herself as best she could for the horrors about to befall her.

Amy sprinted up the terrace-lined street, her eyes darting left and right for any sign of long strawberry-blonde hair. Six months with the Doctor had made her an adept runner, and she covered ground quickly, now onto the sixth street from Broad's house.

That idiot. That stupid bloody fool. She's gonna get herself killed all because she didn't listen. All she had to do was stay inside, but nooo, she's too bloody stubborn to even to that.

Like you would have done any differently, a voice inside her retorted, but she ignored it.

Jack hadn't even needed to say anything. The moment they'd realised what had happened, they'd both raced out of the kitchen, Jack grabbing a pistol and Amy her sonic phone. They'd decided to split up, to try and cover as much ground as quickly as possible. This time, at least, the task was genuinely straightforward. Find Broad before time-travelling mobsters could. Get her home safe and sound. Yell at her.

Jack had briefly warned Amy about the potential dangers the Precept goons posed, but she shrugged them off. It'd take her a lot more than some mooks with guns to get in her way right now, given how pissed off she was. She carefully placed barriers around the more unstable parts of her mind, not wanting her extreme irritation and anger that this lot would have a second shot at someone she knew – not someone she liked, but someone she knew nonetheless – to escape in some unpleasant way. She'd save Broad, no matter what was in her way. And then she'd give her a good old punch in the face for being such a moron.

Right now, though, she had to find her. She reached the end of the sixth street, having found no sign of her. Damnit. She wouldn't be able to sense her psychically until she was within shouting distance – she was very much human and hence had a very tepid psychic presence, and the temporal noise littering the city made it even harder.

She turned and sprinted into the seventh street from Broad's house, her head flipping from left to right as she desperately searched for any sign for the girl. She was almost at the end of the street and starting to lose hope that she'd find her at all when there was a sudden cry within her mind.

A little burst of terror.

That wasn't me. That definitely wasn't me.

She skidded to a halt, turning on the spot to try and locate the source of the psychic cry for help. Another burst washed through her mind, stronger, emanating from a little alleyway on the side of the street about fifty feet behind her. She'd glanced within, but hadn't found anyone within. A small smile found its way onto her lips.

Gotcha.

"You got one more chance," the bald Precept goon snarled. "Tell us everything you know about the Time Lords or I promise we'll make you wish you were never born. We'll do that anyway, but you might live to tell the tale if you talk."

"I swear," the blonde gasped, her hands trying vainly to dislodge the iron-like arm wedged under her chin, partially constricting her windpipe. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't have any idea what Time Lords are, who they are."

"Don't give us that crap. You know who they are. You knew them personally, knew them well. We know this."

"How the hell can I know Time Lords personally when I don't even know what they are?" she hissed, her natural temper flaring even at this dire juncture. The man's face screwed up, adopting a terrible expression bereft of all goodness. He took a step towards her.

"Wrong answer, Miss Broad."

"We should take her back to 50th-cent HQ. The drugs'll break through." The other Precept man said, the one with his arm around her throat.

"Oh, we will. But let's have some fun first, shall we?" A grin wrought of pure evil made its way onto his face, and he began to move towards the young girl. Her eyes widened and her breaths became ragged as she thrashed within the jacketed man's grip, throat too constricted to scream, trying to make one last, futile effort to escape.

The suited man had moved within touching distance, and was reaching his stubby, coarse fingers out when a lilting, Scottish-accented voice called out from behind them.

"Excuse me."

The three froze, the suited man turning to see a tall, pale red-headed girl standing behind them. Her black leather-clad arms were folded over her chest and her vivid green eyes blazed with the fury of a hundred supernovae.

"Hello, pretty lady." The suited man drawled. "I'd advise you to run away, unless you want to stick around for some fun," he added, his eyes raking greedily over ample amount of exposed leg beneath the short denim skirt.

The red-head curled her lip. "Somehow, I don't think so." She cocked her wrist, pointing a strange block-like device with some purple attachment to the end. Her thumb jammed down on a button and a buzzing noise filled the air. Without warning, sparks erupted from the devices on the wrists of both Precept men. They stared at them in identical gestures of astonishment – their manipulators had just died. Just like that. Burnt out. They were stuck, thirty centuries from their home.

The suited man looked up from his wrist to the red-headed girl, shaking, fury etched on his face. "You're going to pay for that, you stupid pathetic little human girl, after we've dealt with Broad."

The girl's smile widened. "Nope."

He narrowed his eyes. "No?"

"Not after you realise who I am."

He froze, taken aback. "How the hell am I meant to know who you are, human girl?" He spat at her.

"Well, you're looking for Time Lords. And..." she unfolded her arms, spreading them wide in an open, seemingly welcoming gesture. "You found one."

The faces of both men paled instantaneously, as white as Katherine's had been five minutes beforehand. Their arms fell weakly to their side, their previous plans long forgotten. Katherine, now freed, stood transfixed, trying to process the scene that was taking place before her.

"You worked it out yet?" Amy's voice was gentle, soft, almost sing-song, but there was a hidden fury buried beneath that chilled Katherine to the bone. The two men nodded swiftly, trembling. "Do it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Use my name."

"A-Amelia Pond."

Amy's smile broadened even more, the corners of her lips upturned in what would usually be described as a sweet smile. She refolded her arms, cocked her head and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. It was quite possibly the most menacing gesture Katherine had ever seen.

"I'll make it simple," she intoned in that same silken, honey-sweet lilt, as a parent would when offering their youngest child a chocolate treat. "You let Broad go. You run. You don't look back and you never come near here again."

The man in the suit swallowed. "Or?"

"Or I'll make you wish you were never born. With my mind."

They didn't look back.

So she saved Katherine, but that last bit won't please the Doctor when he hears about it, don't you think?