The Eleventh Smith:
Amelia Pond sat on the bench outside the adoption lady's office, swinging her feet back and forth impatiently. Her parents were inside, talking with the cheerful woman about her new sister and filling out paperwork.
The little red-headed girl was so excited she thought she would burst. After months of talking and planning, she was finally going to get an older sister!
Suddenly she stood up and began pacing back and forth as a terrifying thought occurred to her. What if she didn't like her new sister? What if she was mean, or scary? Then she thought of something even worse. What if the new sister didn't like her?! She quickly looked around the empty waiting room and took off down the hall, looking for a small enclosed space to kneel. She knew she wasn't supposed to wander off, but this was an emergency! She had to make sure that her parents had picked the right sister, and there was only one person she knew who was powerful enough to do that. If he could travel around the world to give presents to all the good boys and girls in just one night, then surely he could handle helping one girl get the perfect sister. Someone who would be smart and loyal and fun and maybe even be her best friend. She could use another friend. Rory was great, but she also wanted to have a girl best friend. That way they could try on makeup, and play dress up and even do each others hair! Not like with Rory. Rory always complained when Amelia gave him makeovers.
Ducking into a small room next to what looked like the kitchen, Amelia knelt down at a small fold up cot and closed her eyes.
"Dear Santa, thank you for the dolls and pencils and the fish. It's Easter now, so I hope I didn't wake you, but...honest, it is an emergency." She bit her lip and fervently hoped Santa would understand. "My parents are getting me a sister, and I just wanted to ask if you could send someone to help me find the right one. My mom said not to worry about it, but I don't think she realizes how important this is. So I really need your help. I need someone who'll be my friend, and-"
She was interrupted by a loud crash outside the door. "...Back in a moment." She quickly informed Father Christmas as she opened the closet and peeked around the corner into the kitchen.
A floppy haired boy with a big chin and almost nonexistent eyebrows was sprawled on the kitchen floor, groaning quietly. Next to him an old wheel chair was tilted on its side, one wheel spinning slowly in the air. He started to sit up, and upon hearing her muffled gasp at his unusual predicament, whipped his head around and grinned at her widely. He didn't seem to mind his wet, bedraggled clothes or mangled wheelchair. In fact, he barely noticed them as he stared intently at Amelia and she stared back at him in amazement, not sure what to say to the odd looking older boy.
For a moment she was tempted to just run away, go back to her bench and pretend she'd never left, but an odd mixture of worry, curiosity and hope kept her rooted to the spot.
Could this possibly be the person who Santa had sent to help her?
She was about to ponder this unlikely prospect further when he finally spoke.
"Can I have an apple? All I can think about. Apples. I love apples. " Amelia looked at him incredulously, taken aback at the boys first words. You were supposed to introduce yourself when you met new people, not talk about fruit. Everyone knew that! "Maybe I'm having a craving! That's new, never had cravings before. Must be a side effect.." He continued obliviously, wincing slightly as he carefully pulled himself onto the counter and examined his damp clothes, which were now ripped from his tumble into the kitchen. "Woooah...! Look at that! I really did a number on myself!"
Amelia finally managed to find her voice. "...Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah," He casually waved away her concern. "Just had a tiny fall, that's all. It happens all the time, really. I'm a mite clumsy. Plus I'm not used to this bloody wheelchair, and I'm still a little woozy from the medication, and I haven't been out of bed in forever!" he threw his bruised arms open for emphasis. "No worries though, just had a bit of a spill from turning the corner too fast. I was fine until then. Well, except for when I went by the library. I had a hell of a time getting back into that thing after I lost control from rolling over the huge book that idiot Mickey left lying out in the middle of the hall where anyone could trip over it. I'll have a few choice words to say to him next time Rose drags him over to the sick bay for a visit, that's for sure."
Overwhelmed by the boys sudden flood of information, Amelia found herself stating the obvious. "You're soaking wet."
He shrugged. "I was in the swimming pool."
Amelia looked at him suspiciously. That didn't make any sense. If he needed a wheelchair, how could he possibly have been swimming? If he was trying to pull a fast one, she was not impressed. "You said you were in the library." she said accusingly.
"The library is next to the swimming pool." He replied,as if that should be blatantly obvious
"..Really?"
"...No," he admitted. "Its in the backyard. But how cool would that be? Or, I know! Even better. The swimming pool could be IN the library!" He crowed excitedly.
" I mean, come on, it would awe- ah- ah- aargh- ha!"
He broke off midway through his rant to clutch his chest and groan in pain, his lanky body going limp as he fell off the counter with a heavy thud.
Amelia looked down at the whimpering boy in concern. "Are you sure you're all right?"
He nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's okay... this is all perfectly nor-" He stopped again, jerked once, then he gave a little cry as he curled up in a ball and then suddenly relaxed, sitting back up and leaning against a cupboard as if nothing had happened.
Amelia stared at him in shock. He's crazy. She decided. How else could he deal with all these sudden painful looking spasms so calmly? She should probably check if he had just escaped from a looney bin or something. "Who are you?" she demanded, hands on her hips as she tried to read his body language like the coppers did on TV. "An' what's wrong with you?"
The boy held his hands in front of him, examining them intently. He tilted his head to the side and looked up at her gleefully. "Oh, I've been sick for a while, that's all. I'm still recovering. Have a few side effects to deal with. I probably shouldn't be out of bed yet, but I was just so bored!" He paused as he noticed Amelia scowl at both her inability to'deduce his motives and his refusal to answer her first question. "Does it scare you?"
Amelia shook her head quickly. "No. It just looks a bit weird when you're jerking around like that."
"No, no, no," He scoffed, looking surprised she thought he was talking about his antics. "Coming here and getting a new sibling, does it scare you?"
"...Yes." She admitted, wondering how on earth he had known her reason for being here. This interrogation was not going well. He was deducing stuff about her! And that wasn't how it was supposed to work. Maybe he wasn't a looney after all. A crazy person couldn't possibly be able to outsmart her.
He grinned and leapt to his feet suddenly, causing Amelia to take a step back.
"Well then! We're gonna have to fix that!" He declared, looking pleased at his newfound ability to stand on his two own feet. Suddenly something seemed to occur to him. "Oh, how rude of me! I know you asked a couple minutes ago, but I still haven't told you my name yet. I'm John Matthew Smith, but you can call me Eleven. Everyone else does." He waved off her question before she could even ask it. "It's a long story, don't ask. Anyway, do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off!" He turned abruptly and started to stalk off, but ended running right into the door frame. He fell backwards after a nasty smacking sound, looking slightly surprised.
Once again, Amelia stood over him, eyebrows raised. "You all right?" she asked yet again. This was getting repetitive.
"...Oh yeah," Eleven wheezed, climbing to his feet with shaky legs. "Early days still. Steering's a bit off. Should be fine in a while. Still, probably best we sit down for now, eh?" he sat down on a kitchen chair gingerly. "Now why don't you go get me that apple I asked for, and we'll see what we can do about your little problem."
Amelia looked around the large kitchen and spotted a bowl of apples across the room. She quickly ran over to it, and grabbing an apple, ran back. "How'd you know I'm here for a new sister anyway?" She demanded.
Eleven took the apple from her, looking slightly affronted at her demanding tone and sniffed it. After taking a bite, he chewed it once or twice, and then lazily spit it out, not taking his eyes off Amelia.
She was quite taken aback as the piece flew past her, not sure whether to feel confused or annoyed, and looked at him in disgust as he coughed slightly, holding up the apple. "That's disgusting." Eleven declared. "What is that?"
"An apple." said Amelia, feeling more than a little miffed at his reaction. She'd run all the way across the kitchen for that apple!
"Ugh!" He made a face. "Apples are rubbish, I hate apples."
Amelia mentally face palmed. "You said you loved them." she was quickly giving new consideration to her escaped lunatic theory.
"No, no, no," Eleven shook his head vehemently. Suddenly his face brightened. "I'll have yoghurt! Yoghurt's my favourite. Gimme yoghurt."
Rolling her eyes, Amelia ran to the fridge, rummaged around for a minute, and got out a container of yoghurt. Eleven took it from her eagerly, ripped the lid off and drank a bit. He almost immediately spit it out again, and it splattered across the front of the fridge as Amelia pulled another face. Yep, he definitely had some screws loose.
"I hate yoghurt, it's just stuff! With bits in." pouted Eleven, who didn't seem to care that he now had yoghurt all over his face.
"But you said it was your favourite!" said Amelia, throughly exasperated with his flighty demands.
Eleven shrugged. "I haven't eaten proper food in ages! Its like I've got a whole new mouth." He wiped a hand across his mouth and smeared the yoghurt around. "And new rules. It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes WROOOOO-"
He once again interrupted himself, as he jerked backwards, flinging his hand up to slap his forehead as he straightened up again.
"What is it? What's wrong with you?" asked Amelia, getting more and more worried as what he had referred to as 'side effects' refused to go away.
Though she wasn't exactly scared, it made her very uncomfortable that Eleven kept jerking around and screaming. She was half sure he was going to fall down dead every time it happened.
Eleven was immediately defensive. "Wrong with me? It's not my fault. Why can't you give me any decent food? You're Scottish, fry something."
"...Like what?" he must be joking.
"Bacon!" he suggested excitedly.
"No!" she shook her head firmly. If he really was serious then she might as well use this opportunity to get some information out of him. "I'm not getting you anymore food till you tell me why you keep jerking around like that."
"...Fine!" Eleven heaved a long suffering sigh. "But don't blame me if you don't understand half of what I say." He leaned back in his chair and regarded her shrewdly. "I've got a rare genetic disease. Its called Gallifrey. Do you know what that is? No, of course you don't. Don't be silly. You're seven."
Amelia scrunched up her nose in outrage at his flippant remark about her age but didn't interrupt for fear she'd never get him to finish explaining after she'd told him off. "Anyway, it means, among other things, that I've got Gallifreyan hearts." she looked at him with a baffled expression. "Basically, instead of one heart like most people, I've got two, all squished together in my chest without enough room to grow properly. So they act up sometimes, and make me sick. It got really bad a couple months ago, and I've been stuck in my room for waaaay too long, which is why I'm all over the place. Haven't been doing much socializing lately, as I'm sure you've noticed."
"So your messed up hearts are making you flop around?" Amelia asked, trying to wrap her head around the idea of Eleven being as physically unusual as his mannerisms and nickname. She hadn't known it was possible for someone to have two hearts.
He shook his head. "Oh no, thats a completely different kettle of fish. The problem right now is that I got some medicine recently, and it helped a lot, but I'm still getting used to it. All that 'flopping around' is my body adjusting to it. Just a few mini-seizures and stuff like that. Nothing to worry about really." Amelia gaped at him incredulously. Nothing to worry about? There was plenty to worry about. Wasn't medicine supposed to make you feel better? "Can you make me some bacon now?" He looked at her hopefully and she momentarily forgot about her confusion and his apparent ability to brush off his troubles without a second thought as she scowled at his ridiculous request.
"No, I'm not allowed to cook things! I'm seven, remember! Besides, this isn't my kitchen, I don't even know where I'd find bacon!"
"Well, I suppose that is a bit of a problem." Eleven admitted sheepishly. "But I'm so hungry! Can't you find me something to eat?!"
"Well.." Amelia looked in the fridge for something easy to make. If he was really was that sick the least she could do was make him a snack "It looks like we've got some carrots in here."
Eleven looked at her as if she'd just suggested eating a baby covered in jelly. "Carrots? Are you insane?!" suddenly he paused as he thought of something. "No, wait, hang on. I know what I need."
He carefully made his way over to the freezer, opened it and started poking around.
"I need... I need... I need... I. Need." He pulled out two boxes, grinning triumphantly. "Fish fingers, and custard!"
Amelia made a face as he started to prepare his unusual dish, and in no time at all, they were both sitting at the table. He dipped his fish fingers into a bowl full of custard, while she sat on the other side, digging into a large tub of ice cream which they had found in the freezer as well. She knew it was rude to take someone else's food, but she was so exhausted from dealing with the cheerful and picky Eleven that she figured she deserved some ice-cream. Looking back at Eleven, she giggled as she watched him lift the entire bowl and drink some custard, which left him with a ridiculous looking custard moustache.
He looked back at her and smiled as he wiped it away. "Why are you laughing?"
"Cause you're funny." She answered honestly. She still thought he was a little crazy, but she liked him, quirks and all.
"Am I? Good. Funny's good."Eleven nodded to himself, and finally thought to ask a very basic question. "What's your name?"
" Amelia Pond." She replied.
"Ohh, that's a brilliant name. Amelia Ponnnd." He stretched the name out and smiled as it rolled off his tongue. "Like a name in a fairytale. Are you from Scotland, Amelia?" He abruptly switched topics.
"Yeah." Amelia sighed. "But we had to move to England. It's rubbish."
"Cool." he smiled. "I've never met someone from Scotland before." he looked up at the clock in surprise. "So what about your mum and dad then? You've been here with me for a while. Thought they'd have come looking for you by now."
Amelia shrugged. "They're still in the adoption office, I guess. Signin' papers and stuff. They told me to stay put outside the office, but I-"
"-decided to go have a look around and see if you could find your new sibling." Eleven interrupted her again and finished her sentence, more or less correctly.
Amelia stared at him. She could tell he was awfully clever, but even so, how could he possibly have known what she was going to say? "...how'd you-"
"-Know why you're here? Its simple really. I've never seen you around here before, and River usually brings new arrivals to meet me, since she knows I get bored, being stuck in a bed half the time. Besides, you don't look like you've been recently orphaned. You don't have that sad look in your eye, the one that all the new kids have. And since you're not staying here, there's only one other reason a ginger seven year old would be wandering around an orphanage. Your parents are adopting a kid from here!" he finished proudly. "...Wait a minute," his eyes widened. "Pond, Pond, Pond. I know that name. How do I know that name?" He started hitting himself in the head as if to dislodge a memory. "...Oh! Of course!" He grinned, eyes bright. "River told me that name a couple days ago, how could I forget?! Amelia Pond," Eleven grabbed Amelia by the shoulders and gave her an unexpected hug. "You're River's new sister!"
"...Wait, what?" said Amelia in shock.
"My best friend, River! Oh, this is brilliant!" He enthused. "River's great, you're going to love her! She's so funny, and clever, and brave! I'd have gone mad from boredom years ago if it weren't for her. And I'm sure she'll love you too! She was so nervous when she found out her new parents already had a daughter, -not that she said so of course, but I could tell- but I'm sure you two are going to get on swimmingly! You're just such a fantastic little girl!"
Eleven beamed at Amelia, who was slack jawed from his torrent of information and optimism. She had been surprised enough at how he had figured out her reason for being here, and then to suddenly be told that he actually knew the girl who would be her sister was a lot to process at once.
Slowly she began to smile as she realized her prayers had been answered in the form of this odd, sickly older boy with a ridiculously big chin. She was so eager to find out more, she found herself asking the first question that popped into her head. "My sisters name is River?" She asked.
"Well, no. Not exactly. Her real name's Melody, but everyone calls her River. It's a...nickname. Like mine."
"What's wrong with her real name though? I think the name Melody is beautiful." said Amelia in confusion. It really was a gorgeous name. If she was naming someone, she would totally name them something like Melody.
He shrugged. "She hates her real name. Says her parents gave up the right to control what she's called when they gave her up. So she picked a new name. I don't get what the big deal is, but she says I'm too young to understand." He rolled his eyes at Amelia's questioning look. "She's only a few months older than me, but she loves to lord it over me anyway." he pouted.
"How old are you anyway?"Amelia asked, marvelling at his ability to go from sounding grown up and wise to immature and whiny in the blink of an eye.
"Nine hundred and seven." Eleven replied with a perfectly straight face. Amelia raised an eyebrow and gave him another unimpressed look. "Ok, fine, I'm ten. But the funny thing is, Ten is eleven!" He laughed.
"...What?" said Amelia, feeling confused yet again. It seemed to be a major factor in having a conversation with Eleven.
"I'm Eleven, but I'm ten, while Ten is eleven. See?" Eleven tried and failed to explain.
"No, I don't see." said Amelia, becoming cross. "Are you ten or eleven?"
"Its, its just a joke we do. My name -well, nickname- is Eleven, but I'm ten years old. I have a friend called Ten, and he's eleven years old. See? Its funny!"
"You're only ten?" Amelia asked, tilting her head to the side and examining him intently. "You don't seem ten. I mean, you look ten, but you don't seem ten. You know?"
Eleven shrugged. "Well, I'm stuck in a bed a lot, so I do a lot of reading and stuff. Just for fun, and to have something to do. So I know a lot more than most people my age. And if you had to deal with some of the stuff I've had to, you'd be different too. I'm also grades ahead of where I'm supposed to be, but Nine says I'm not supposed to brag about that"
"Ok, I know you said don't ask, but seriously, what's with the numbers?" Amelia asked him, thoroughly fed up with the unexplained numbers used as names she was hearing. Nicknames were one thing, but this was ridiculous!
"Oh, that?" said Eleven in surprise. "Its fairly obvious I should think. There's a tradition at this orphanage to name any unnamed boys or foundlings after the founder, John William Smith. Its just the way people differentiate between us. I'm the eleventh boy to be named John Smith since this place was founded over fifty years ago, so I'm called Eleven. Make sense?"
"I guess, but-" Amelia was cut off by someone's enraged shouting, which echoed through the empty halls.
"JOHN MATTHEW SMITH, YOU GET YOUR BUM BACK IN BED THIS INSTANT OR YOU WON'T BE SEEING YOUR FRIENDS FOR A MONTH! AND YOU CAN FORGET ABOUT ME GETTING YOUR TV FIXED!"
Eleven looked up in fear, the blood draining from his face as he scrambled to set his wheelchair upright and get back in it. "Oh bloody hell!" He swore. "I forgot about Idris! She's gonna kill me."
"Whats going on?" asked Amelia, as she helped him climb into the broken contraption.
"I'm not supposed to be out of bed for another week at least." Eleven admitted sheepishly. "But I was finally feeling well enough to move, and I just couldn't stand staying still for another moment! I told Idris I was tired and then snuck out, but I guess she came back to check on me. Listen, I've got to go tell her what's going on and calm her down, but maybe after I can take you to see River?" He looked up at her hopefully with his blue-green eyes.
"Yeah, okay." Amelia nodded, a little unsure. She liked Eleven, and was grateful to him for his help, but she wasn't sure she wanted to get on the wrong side of whoever this Idris person was, and besides, she had to be getting back before her parents noticed she was gone.
"Great." He smiled in relief, and started to wheel himself out. "Five minutes." He called back over his shoulder as he left. "Give me five minutes! I'll be right back."
" ...People always say that."Amelia snorted to herself.
Eleven stopped in his tracks and wheeled back around to give her a damp hug and reassure her. "Am I people? Do I even look like people?" He laughed and gestured to his odd features and bedraggled clothes. "Trust me." He turned back and careened through the hall shouting gleefully.
"Geronimoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
Amelia waited for five minutes.
Then she waited for ten.
When twenty minutes had come and gone, she heaved a disappointed sigh and trudged back to her seat outside the office.
"Oh, Amelia," Her mother sighed some time later. "Thank you very much for staying put Sweetie."
"Yes.' Her father nodded. "I'm sorry it took so long, but your sister's paperwork was a bit more...complicated than expected." Her parents shared a look, and Amelia briefly wondered what was in her sisters file.
"No worries though," smiled her mother, eyes twinkling. "We got it sorted, and I'm sure you'll find it worth the wait. Amelia," She stepped aside to reveal a curly haired ten year old standing awkwardly behind her with a battered blue suitcase, and Amelia promptly forgot about her parents odd behaviour as she got caught up in the excitement of the moment. "Meet your new sister, Melody Pond."
"Hey," Melody took a shy step forward, shook her hair out of her eyes, and stuck her hand out with a smirk. "Its awesome to meet you, but please, call me Mels. I can't stand 'Melody'."
Amelia stared at her hand for a moment, and then wordlessly ran forward and gave her new sister a big hug.
She looked up at the ceiling with gratitude."Thank you Santa." she whispered under her breath, and then proceeded to pick up Mels' suitcase and headed out to the car, her happy smile almost as big as the one that graced Melody Ponds shining face.
A/N: ok, so in case you couldn't tell, this is a standalone retelling of the first part of 'The Eleventh Hour', set in an alternate universe where the TARDIS is an orphanage and each incarnation of The Doctor is a child who grew up there. I'm focussing on NuWho Doctors, but I will have some Classic Who characters as well, in a much longer story called 'The Smith Home For Orphaned Children' or something along those lines, which I am currently writing and will tie in to this oneshot. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get around to posting it, but feel free to follow me if you're interested in seeing more of this world!
btw, I skipped some of Eleven's food shenanigans, because it takes a lot longer to write out and read than it does to watch it, and I felt it was getting a bit tedious. hope you don't mind that I cut it a bit short, and this will probably sound weird, but I also hope they sounded British enough. I'm from Canada, so despite my obsession with a number of British actors, movies and TV shows, I'm not as familiar with British slang as I would like to be, in order to make my characters sound more authentic.
anyway, please review and tell me what you think!