I'm sorry it's been so long! RL has been weird. But I'm back, hopefully for longer this time.
Oh god this one is so insanely meta. Because it isn't about the Doctor, not really, it's about me, and the strange connections I've been drawing this season. It's also about The Thing That Happened in Cold Blood and as such beware of HORRIBLE HORRIBLE SPOILERS. Also, some vague familiarity with the main characters of the EDAs is somewhat required.
Note: the scene with Amy and the Doctor walking down the track is actually a deleted scene from Hungry Earth. Go look it up, it's amazing.
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This is a story about someone who never existed.
Therefore, it can't be true.
"So is this what's going to happen to every romantic holiday, then?" Rory asks awkwardly, still caught up in a moment that might be something like joking camaraderie with the Doctor. This seems to be the wrong thing to say, so he hurriedly adds, "I don't mind or anything, honestly." He'd say whatever at this point, just so's not to mess up whatever it is he's so unexpectedly gained, but he's surprised to find the words are nearly true. He can still feel it, something almost physically tangible, stretching between them. We're so her boys. He looks around at the amazing, impossible ship and thinks he might just be all right here.
"Well," the Doctor begins, and then stops. "Possibly?"
Amy's laughing, and spinning a little bit, amongst the blinking lights and tiny dangling technological wonders, and the world seems to pause for a moment to wonder at her beauty. This happens so often Rory is surprised it hasn't yet decided to stop for good.
He laughs a bit himself, and looks back at the Doctor, and then he stops, and feels the heavy awkwardness descending once again, because the mad, brilliant man is looking back at him with the strangest sort of lack of expression, and he wonders what it is he's done wrong now.
The Doctor is not quite used to this new body yet, but already some very strange things have been happening to him.
Nostalgia. That's always been his curse. Letting go of the past is oddly difficult for time travelers. He's experienced it in so many different forms over the years that he ought to have been used to it by now- but this was different. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Sure, he's always had a predilection for redheads- but it ought to be Donna he was moping over, not a woman he'd known three bodies ago who hadn't even been entirely human. So why is it that every time he looks at Amy's long legs and longer carroty locks, he finds his thoughts turning towards that girl who'd once been known as Laura Tobin, the girl who'd turned into a time machine, the girl who'd never existed?
He's been feeling rather out of sorts these last few weeks, and it was only the other day that he realized why. He's felt this way once before, in a different life, walking back into his old House, and finding it dangerously changed. Now, though, he felt as though he were walking back into his old life. And there are people there to meet him. People who've never met him before.
The universe has altered, once again, in some subtle, insidious way. It is full of more wonder, and more terror. And it haunts him.
It's not until this very moment, however, that it all clicks into place.
Something weird's going on. Rory doesn't know what. He's sitting in the library one day, struggling through Temporal Theory 101, by someone called Aaron P. Blinovitch, enjoying the quiet susurrations of the swimming pool, when the Doctor enters. Rory looks up, nods in acknowledgment, then returns to the page. After a moment he looks up again. Is the Doctor really carrying a guitar? A rather retro one too, by the look of it, although really the sum total of Rory's knowledge about guitars could be written down on a very small piece of note paper.
"Why're you holding a guitar?" Rory asks ingeniously.
The Doctor looks down, seemingly startled to find the instrument in his long hands. "I thought you might like it," he mumbles. "It's a present."
Rory blinks. He's a little pleased that the Doctor likes him enough to give him a present, but- "I'm, uh, not very musical." Actually that's a bit of an understatement. Amy's made it clear on multiple occasions that if she ever hears him singing in the shower again he can kiss his chance at matrimonial bliss goodbye.
The Doctor looks confused, and a little bit lost. "Oh," he says, sounding rather woebegone. Rory feels his nurturing nature kick in. Oh damn.
"I've always wanted to learn guitar, though. I'm sure it'll come in handy. Thanks, that's- that's really nice of you." He puts down his book a careful distance away from the edge of the pool, and stumbles over to take the thing from the Doctor. It's really amazingly heavy, and he nearly drops it, but eventually he manages to settle it in his protesting arms. "I guess I should go and put this in my room then," he says.
"Yes," replies the Doctor, looking relieved. He rocks on his heels a little, tugging at his bowtie.
What kind of sad statement is it, Rory thinks, that this isn't even a particularly bizarre encounter, for his new life onboard the good ship TARDIS.
He remembers the look the Doctor had, though, for a while afterward. He looked so oddly wanting. Wanting what, is the question.
Rory's gone back to make sure the ring's safe- dawdling, he's always been a dawdler- but Amy's happy right now, just walking down a rather peaceful country track, her and the Doctor. It gives her a chance to ask him about something that's been occupying her mind. "Me and Rory on the hillside, future us. That's good right? That happens? We get our happily ever after."
"As things stand in this time stream-" the Doctor is gloomy as ever- "time's not fixed, so things can change."
Amy sighs. "Yeah, I see your point." It doesn't matter anyway. It's a nice, comforting thought, her and Rory on a hill, waving- and she can keep that for herself. Right now she's happy to talk about anything with her not-so-Raggedy Doctor. They're together and they're out here having adventures, and all that is just fine with Amy.
The Doctor speaks, suddenly, surprisingly. "But yes," he says quietly, "I like him." And then, even more softly and shyly, sort of awkward- "A lot."
Amy doesn't know what to make of that. The Welsh countryside is green and misty, and the Doctor's eyes are very far away.
He feels on top of the world right now. Nasreen is brilliant, she really is; but now, now when she's being assertive and diplomatic and negotiating, representing the best of humanity- now he feels like he has Anji back, and he's starting to believe it's all slotting into place, starting to hope he can actually regain what he's lost. That would be so, so wonderful- and surely he deserves it, after all he's been through?
A part of him is whispering, in the back of his head- reminding him that he of all people should know it's not outward appearances that matter, and if Amy is the spitting image of prickly Compassion and Nasreen somewhat resembles his fierce Anji they're really, really not the same people at all-
He ignores it.
"Let's play Raggedy Doctor," Amy cries, excited and pleased with herself. "Except now you have to wear a bowtie, too."
"Amy, this is ridiculous," Rory says, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "We're not kids, and- and we're here in the actual time machine,why do you want to pretend?"
"I want to," she says, because she doesn't really know, herself. "Please, Rory? Please please please?"
"Fine," and he starts to remember how to do it, how to get in the right mindset, and then the shame and embarrassment just melts away.
"Hello, Amelia Pond," he says, starting to grin crazily. "There's a Tyrannosaurus Rex in the study, and I need some help catching it. You look like a resourceful young lady. Would you mind lending a hand?" He feels a great weight lifting off his shoulders. Suddenly he's crazy and amazing and he can walk on air and dance across time.
"I don't know," Amy replies, smiling slyly. "What's in it for me?"
This isn't the way they usually play it, but he tries to run with it anyway. "Perhaps you would like a rare diamond from the caves of the spider planet circling a cold star in the fifth galaxy? Or I could give you a goldfish that will speak and grant your wishes."
"I think I know something else you could give me," she says, and she pushes him back into the wall. Suddenly her mouth is on his, her hands are tightening in his hair; he is hyper-aware of her hips sliding against his and her tongue slipping between his teeth.
This is wrong, he knows it is, but all of a sudden it doesn't matter because he's the Doctor, he's the mysterious man from the stars, he's the man that Amy wants and that's a delicious feeling, icy and hot at the same time, to be the man that Amy wants. He slips his hands under her shirt.
"Kissing me again, Amy Pond?" says a quiet voice as distant and chilly as a black hole.
They break apart. Amy tugs down her shirt, eyes wild, shoulders hunched, frightened and desperate and ashamed. But the Doctor's not looking at her. He's looking at Rory.
Rory stares back, angry and defensive and upset.
The Doctor's fingers tighten on the railing, knuckles whitening, and then he lets go, and leaves, without another word.
Once upon a time there was a boy named Fitz Kreiner. But this is not that story, because this story is true, and Fitz Kreiner never existed.
Neither did Rory Williams.
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