time is all around us (chapter 2)
title: time is all around us (chapter 2)
chapters: one / two /
characters: The Doctor, Amy Pond, & Rory Pond
rating: M (suggestive themes/rated for other chapters)
word count: 2,811
summary: The Doctor knows what she is; but it's impossible. There's no way. It's an old magic trick, that's all. For now, all they can do is wait and hope that Amy doesn't remain a sleeping beauty forever.
Note: Hi. I can't stop writing this fic! I took a few liberties with the whole mind-meld thing. Teehee. Although, I gotta say; at first I was like “oh this chapter isn't long enough” but then I remembered that it doesn't matter; as long as I'm proud of it. :) Hopefully the format and stuff is easy to understand. (doctor's thoughts) inside Amy's head.
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It was hour five;
Nobody slept. The Doctor didn't stay in the med-bay, he walked back and forth, disappearing for a few minutes and then returning. Rory stayed by Amy; He only got up to go to the bathroom.
The Doctor returned with two cups of tea in his hand, “Cheers.” Rory said taking the mug from the Doctor. He sipped the warm drink but his eyes rarely left Amy's sleeping form.
“Can't you do anything?” Rory asked, his foot twitching as he sat crossed legged in the uncomfortable plastic chair.
“No. I...” The Doctor looked at Amy, “I could try to slip into her mind, though.”
“Like at the Hospital?”
The Doctor nodded. He had toyed with the idea before, but he suspected Amy would awake soon-and now they were nearing six hours with no response from the redhead. Her temperature was still cooler than normal; but the Doctor knew that was because her body had shut down as best it could in order to fix whatever the elder had done to her.
He neared her bed and carefully placed his hands on either side of her face. The Doctor bent forward and he heard Rory shift in his chair. The Doctor closed his eyes, carefully and slowly, entering Amy's mind. He waited for half a moment until he felt her let him in.
The Doctor's eyes opened and above him was a cloudy sky. Oh, Pond, where are you? He looked around. Her world was very open, fields of wheat in every direction, and a low rumble of thunder in the sky. The Doctor narrowed his eyes-ah. There she was. An ivory tower, slightly lopsided, in the distance.
The Doctor climbed the spiral staircase and pushed open the old wooden door. Amelia Pond was lying, curled on her side, in a room that looked like it was crafted from clouds. “Pond.” He breathed and she bolted upright.
“Doctor!” She got to her feet, little puffs and wisps of clouds being sent into the air. Her slim body covered in a deep green gown. The Doctor opened his arms and she fell into them-hugging him tightly. The scenery around them changed and they were in the TARDIS.
The Doctor swallowed, unsure what to say, and knowing exactly what had changed. Amy smiled; her eyes meeting his. “I see it...” She whispered, cupping his face with one hand, “I see it, Doctor. I feel it.” There was a quiet hum of energy between them; a sizzling physic connection about to be born.
He quickly snapped it in half.
“Amelia...” He placed his hand over hers and pushed her away. He turned his back on her, “Don't get your hopes up. It's nothing. It's not what you think it is.” The thunder suddenly cracked and the TARDIS interior fell away in large chunks. The Doctor flinched, feeling the hurt radiate from Amy like an angry wind. They stood together on a sleek, black rock in the middle of a raging ocean. The waves crashed against the rock and sprayed salt water at them.
“It's NOTHING?!” She shouted at him. Amy grabbed his arm, turning him around, and she placed his hand against her neck. The Doctor felt the strange-and-familiar double pulse. His eyes widened, searching, seeking, and pleading all at once; “Amy, Amy, it's not...it's impossible.” He tore both his hand and his gaze away from her.
Amy sucked in a deep breath and they were standing on a grassy hill. The transition was smooth, the waves shifting into taller grass blowing in the wind, rock replaced by short, green grass like the kind seen in the middle of spring when all traces of winter were gone for good. “Will I be okay?”
“Yes.” He answered quite confident of that. Amy fell back onto the grass and looked up at the cloudy sky. She took another deep breath. I know what I am, Doctor. I feel it...in my head, it's like there's so much space-so much time-and my heartbeat...you felt the pulse. I may not be from your planet, Doctor...but I'm...
“Amy, please stop.” The Doctor rasped. Amy sat up on her elbows, Ohh right. We're inside my head. You can hear me. You don't believe then? Hm?
“No.” His shoulders were tense. “It's impossible, Amelia.” (She's impossible. Always has been).
Are you afraid? He didn't answer her.
Sit with me. The Doctor sighed and laid beside Amy in the grass. She didn't want to talk/think about it any longer-especially if the Doctor was going to be so stubborn about the whole thing. She sought out his hand and laced their fingers together. Comfort.
“How's Rory?”
“Worried as ever.” Amy turned her head to look at his profile. They laid there together, the distant thunder (which she felt, must be the Doctor's presence) the only sound. The Doctor listened intently to her soft breathing, the warmth of her hand, and the youknowyouknowyouknow beating of his hearts.
“How are you feeling?” The Doctor asked, turning his head to look at her. She was lovely, her wild red hair splayed out across the grass. The Doctor locked his emotions up tight, he didn't want her to feel what he was feeling, and he didn't want her to know that he'd burn ten thousand galaxies if it meant he could just once more (only once) press his lips to hers.
“Okay.” Amy shrugged a bit, “Tell Rory that I hear him when he talks to me. It's nice...I like the company.”
The Doctor smiled; “You got it.” He tapped Amy on the nose. He pulled his hand away from hers (stay longer-stay-stay-stay-) and stood up, brushing the grass off his trousers. The grass around them evaporated and shimmered until clouds filled up and they were back in the room where he found Amy sleeping. Amy yawned loudly and stretched her arms over her head.
“Come back soon, yeah?” She said with a tiny smile.
“Okay.” An easy lie.
The Doctor placed his hand on the heavy oak door and looked back at Amy. She had curled up again, her eyes closed and her expression peaceful. He could feel her mind floating away, into her fantasies, dreams, and that was not a place for him. The Doctor pushed the door open and his mind left hers.
Rory sat up straight in his chair. “Well?”
The Doctor checked his watch; he had only been in her mind for two minutes-at the very most. Yet, while there...it had felt like seconds passed. He beamed at Rory, “She's fine!” He clapped his hands together.
“That's it?” There was edge of annoyance to his voice.
“She also said she likes it when you talk to her. She can hear you.” The Doctor said, turning on his heel and waltzing out. Rory flushed but, smiled nonetheless.
“I'm glad you're okay...just...come out of it, okay?” He spoke softly. He could feel his exhaustion creeping up on him, trying to tug him down, but he wasn't going to sleep. What if he fell asleep and she woke up? He scooted his chair closer so that he could rest his cheek on the mattress. He kept his hand curled around hers.
Amy listened to the quietness around her. Oh, so very quiet. She missed the rumble of thunder. She missed the Doctor's presence in her head. Now, Amy wasn't very fond of people poking around in her mind. But, the Doctor was careful, he didn't barrel into her mind simply because he could. He 'knocked' and then entered; what a gentleman. He didn't snoop around or dig up childhood memories. He didn't even stay for her dreams (even though most of said dreams involved him).
She rolled over onto her side, the Doctor lying next to her (not the real Doctor, of course), yet she didn't really care. “Marvelous, Pond.” He whispered, running his hand from her ribcage to her hipbone. Amy smiled and curled herself into his side. His arms wrapped snugly around her and Amy let the images flicker through her mind. What would happen once she recovered? What would they do? She saw herself, running beside the Doctor, red hair fanning out around her face. There would always be running.
“It's an old magic trick, dear.” The Doctor said quietly to the TARDIS console. The TARDIS scoffed and bright, crystal clear images of Amy sleeping flashed into his mind. Those images then collided with images of himself (previous regenerations) sleeping soundly in the same manner.
“Okay!” He grumbled and she stopped the little slide show. She hummed; her point was proven. The Doctor's hearts suddenly skipped a beat (or two) when he felt Amy whimper. The TARDIS was as worried as he was-but Amy was still sleeping in the med-bay. She hadn't moved, hadn't filched, and there was no way she had whimpered.
The TARDIS urged him to check on her. “I can't just climb into Pond's mind as I please.” The TARDIS fell silent. The Doctor took a seat on the jumper chair near the console and waited. He cradled his head in his hands, Oh, if it's true-which it can't be-then I'll have to find a way to reverse it. She can't actually be a...a...she can't!
Amy covered her ears with her hands. Two shadowy figures stood over her and they were shouting. Come on, Amy! It's your head! You have control over it...She couldn't suppress a small whimper. Then, there was a soft, glowing light, and Amy felt only affection, safety, warmth-she blinked a few times and the shadowy figures disappeared.
“Doctor?”
There was a hum. Amy gasped, “TARDIS?”
And then the light flickered and was gone.
“She's okay...just a bad dream...right.” The Doctor nodded as the TARDIS reported back to him, feeling numb and drained-he wanted her to wake up as badly as Rory did. He lifted himself up and down the corridor, letting his ship find him some place quiet and away from the med-bay. For one woman, one human, to put everything to a stop. The universe on hold. The Doctor couldn't think of anything but Amelia Pond.
A part of him hated himself for being completely, entirely, solely focused on her.
Another part of him didn't really care-because she was his companion. He is supposed to be worried about her.
Then that dark, dark part of him was growling in satisfaction at the way Amy looked at him-the way only he was able to enter her mind, how it's his name she calls out in the darkness, the connection, the bond, the if it's true, she can be yours forever.
No. No. She is married to Rory-she's made her choice and she will always have a choice. Amelia Pond is not and will never be mine. Well, that sounded a tad possessive, didn't it? Perhaps that's not the word I was looking for...nevertheless, I am going to stop thinking about it starting: Now.
Amy dug her toes into the sand and looked up-the people in front of her were faded, like ghosts, and she could barely see their faces. She could, however, feel their emotions.
Hurt/Despair/Longing/Loss/GoodbyeGoodbyeGoodbye
The brown haired man in the suit faded away.
Amy sucked in a deep breath as she was pushed into the TARDIS-the man wearing a suit and converse stood there. Amy got to her feet, the TARDIS floor cold underneath her, and she stepped up to see the man. He was handsome but, an ordinary type of handsome. Spiked hair, brown eyes, oh...his eyes. His eyes. “Oh god, it's you! It's the Doctor!”
Amy reached out to touch him-he just faded into dust. She wasn't in the Doctor's head (there was no thunder-no presence of him). So, how was she seeing this? Seeing him? Too many questions and not enough answers. The TARDIS hummed quietly and Amy leaned against the old interior, running her fingers along the old console, it was different-not bad different, just different from the TARDIS she saw every day.
“He gets a new face-and you get a make over.”
Amy looked at her reflection in the TARDIS console, she pulled at her cheeks and stuck her tongue out. “Does that mean I'll get a new face?” Amy didn't like that idea...especially if it meant that she wasn't going to have her red hair anymore. “But maybe I'll keep it...” Amy said, absentmindedly twirling a lock of it in between her fingers, “You never know.”
“Pond, how could you be anything but ginger?” Amy spun around, seeing her Doctor leaning with his elbows propped on the railing.
“You're jealous.” She smirked and flipped her hair dramatically.
The Doctor laughed and the TARDIS interior slowly shifted back to what Amy was used to.
“Do come back to us soon, will you?” He said, his voice ever-so soft, and she felt his hand brush against her cheek-but her Doctor hadn't moved from the railing. Her brain registered that her Doctor's lips hadn't moved. A second ticked by.
The Doctor had tried to put distance between himself and Amy. But, he found he couldn't sleep without saying something to her, anything, just a small reminder that she had him and Rory waiting for her. The desires and comforts of one's own mind can be tempting-there is an urge there, to stay in a world created for and by you. 'Amy's stronger than that...and it's only the eighth hour. She'll come back before tomorrow starts...I'm sure of it.' The Doctor's hand hovered near her cheek before he pulled away.
Rory was snoring quietly beside Amy, his head resting near Amy's hip, and his arm half-dangling off his lap.
A pink and white blanket fell out of one of the medical cabinets. The Doctor smiled briefly; the TARDIS could be such a mother hen. The Doctor draped the blanket over Rory's shoulders and left the room.
He'd check on Amy in two hours. Every two hours. There! That was reasonable! He could get a few things done, maybe finally fix the chameleon circuit, there was that door that's been covered in slime for the past week-he should look at that. Yes! There was plenty to do around the TARDIS. The Doctor ran his hand along the wall, absentmindedly, as he thought of all the things he could do to spend his time.
Going on an adventure just didn't feel right if Amy wasn't there with him. And Rory. Amy and Rory. Can't have one without the other.
Amy pushed the heavy oak door she had seen the Doctor leave out of. It wouldn't budge. “Bugger!” She tried once more and then cursed again. Amy huffed, crossed her arms, and stood in the TARDIS. She tried those doors and the same thing happened; absolutely nothing.
“I'm stuck in my own head.” She laughed, throwing her arms into the air.
“'S not too bad...” Rory said, standing behind her.
A frustrated groan left her lips. Anxious/Worried/Confused/Optimistic/Bored/Lonely/Worried
“Wait...” Amy hadn't even realized that she had started pacing. She looked at Rory, “Who's feelings are these? Mine? The Doctor's? Yours?”
Rory shrugged.
Right-he couldn't help her because he was just a figment of her imagination and he only knew as much as she did.
“TARDIS? A little help would be fantastic.” Amy asked the ceiling.
Rest.Rest.Rest.Rest.MustGetBetter.
“I'm not tired.”
DoctorWorried.RoryWorried.MustHeal.BodyTooWeak.HurtYourself.
“Fine. I'll keep resting, but only if you tell me who-or what I'm feeling.”
Image: The Doctor pacing the Library; Anxious/Worried/Confused/Lonely.
Rory sleeping next to Amy; Worried/Confused/Tired
Glowing orange light; Optimistic/Somewhat Annoyed at Amelia for being stubborn.
Amy smiled, when the Doctor didn't have all the answers, his ship was able to fill in the blanks quite nicely. “Thanks...one last question. Please?”
Curious.
“Why am I feeling what they're feeling?”
AskTheDoctor.
Amy fell back onto her bed in her room back in Leadworth. She stared up at the ceiling, seeing the glow-sticker stars that she stuck up there when she was younger. She could communicate with the TARDIS now, more than before when she'd have to go by visual cues like dimming lights and a pressure on her temple.
Amy let out a loud and long sigh.
Rest.Rest.Rest.MustGetBetter.PleaseAmelia.
“Alright, mom.”
DeeplyAmused.