(no subject)
I'm sure that I'll stop drowning in angst soon. Probably. Eventually.
new words for old desires
eleven/amy, 740 words, pg, for this prompt
"Last stop, Leadworth," he says, glancing over his shoulder. "Never thought I'd have to say that."
"Yes, well." Amy's eyes dart to the floor and she squirms against the railing. "I never thought I'd want you to."
He studies her hands, now, when he can't recall ever doing it before. She picks the polish off her fingernails, little chips of metallic blue glittering on the floor. She never bit her nails, not a nervous habit in sight, that one. Anxious fingers, though-long and pale and never entirely without a tremor. She notices the blue specks blinking up at her from the floor and stops, folding her hands behind her back instead. He still doesn't look up at her face.
"You stopped picking your nails. Why did you stop picking your nails?" he asks hurriedly.
Her brow furrows. "I don't know, because I did. Is it really that important?"
Yes, because it's one less thing to remember her by. "It could be terribly important, but obviously I can't tell you whether or not it is or isn't if you can't even tell me why-"
"Doctor," she says sharply, and winces. "Stop it. Just stop it. You're not-you're just rambling like it's going to make a difference, but it isn't. So don't."
"Alright, Pond," says the Doctor softly. "But if it's not making a difference, then why haven't you left yet?"
"Because-this is rubbish, why are we even discussing this?"
"Oh, I don't know. Possibly because you're making a mistake and you know it, but what do I know? I'm just a raggedy doctor, after all."
She glares at him. "Why do you insist on making this harder?"
"What, you expected it to be easy?"
"Nothing else has been," she says, just this side of anger, and runs a hand through her hair. "I guess that'd be asking too much, right?"
"Don't go," he says simply. She stares at him. "Stay. It's been a lot to deal with. I know that. But-"
"But what, Doctor?" she asks, with a sigh that's half bitter and half desperate. "A lot to deal with isn't even close. We saved the universe, rah-rah, but what about my universe?" Amy shuts her eyes and exhales. "That sounds selfish. I don't care. I'm done. Rory's gone, and I didn't realize-I don't have anything at all in the world that's just for me. Anything to keep me here."
"Then why leave?" he says. He crosses the room and takes her hand. "You've got me."
"That's just the thing, Doctor. I don't have you at all. If I didn't do this now, then it'd happen too late. You'd be through with me eventually, and then where would I be?" She leans her forehead against his. "If I don't go now, if I don't learn how to live with normal, regular people-do you see what I mean? There's no way this'll end well."
"Amy, Amy, Amelia Pond," he murmurs. "Why can't you just let your fairy-tale have a happy ending?"
Amy tenses. "You really do love people, Doctor. But you don't understand them at all."
"Then teach me. You can make me understand, I'm not so old that I can't learn." He kisses her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, and then, lightly, the corner of her mouth. "Stay?"
Her eyes are closed, her lips are parted, but her spine is stiff and resolute. "I'm sorry," she says, and disentangles herself from him.
"For the record," he says, when he hears the door open, "I'd never be through with you."
She lets out a little puff of air that's almost a laugh. "We'll always have Venice. Or the gaping hole that tried to eat the universe. Or something. Good-bye, Doctor." The door shuts.
The TARDIS seems to narrow, as if to stretch towards her absence.
-
Leadworth is quiet at night, almost eerily so, but the Doctor thinks nothing of it, because as soon as he steps out-
"You came back!" shrieks Amelia, all of seven years old and radiating joy. She runs over to meet him, goes to hug him and pauses. "You're five minutes late," she informs him matter-of-factly.
He kneels down and lays his hands on her shoulders. "Amelia Pond," the Doctor says seriously, "if I can promise you one thing, it's that I will never make you wait again." He breaks into a smile. "Now, how do you feel about adventures?"
new words for old desires
eleven/amy, 740 words, pg, for this prompt
"Last stop, Leadworth," he says, glancing over his shoulder. "Never thought I'd have to say that."
"Yes, well." Amy's eyes dart to the floor and she squirms against the railing. "I never thought I'd want you to."
He studies her hands, now, when he can't recall ever doing it before. She picks the polish off her fingernails, little chips of metallic blue glittering on the floor. She never bit her nails, not a nervous habit in sight, that one. Anxious fingers, though-long and pale and never entirely without a tremor. She notices the blue specks blinking up at her from the floor and stops, folding her hands behind her back instead. He still doesn't look up at her face.
"You stopped picking your nails. Why did you stop picking your nails?" he asks hurriedly.
Her brow furrows. "I don't know, because I did. Is it really that important?"
Yes, because it's one less thing to remember her by. "It could be terribly important, but obviously I can't tell you whether or not it is or isn't if you can't even tell me why-"
"Doctor," she says sharply, and winces. "Stop it. Just stop it. You're not-you're just rambling like it's going to make a difference, but it isn't. So don't."
"Alright, Pond," says the Doctor softly. "But if it's not making a difference, then why haven't you left yet?"
"Because-this is rubbish, why are we even discussing this?"
"Oh, I don't know. Possibly because you're making a mistake and you know it, but what do I know? I'm just a raggedy doctor, after all."
She glares at him. "Why do you insist on making this harder?"
"What, you expected it to be easy?"
"Nothing else has been," she says, just this side of anger, and runs a hand through her hair. "I guess that'd be asking too much, right?"
"Don't go," he says simply. She stares at him. "Stay. It's been a lot to deal with. I know that. But-"
"But what, Doctor?" she asks, with a sigh that's half bitter and half desperate. "A lot to deal with isn't even close. We saved the universe, rah-rah, but what about my universe?" Amy shuts her eyes and exhales. "That sounds selfish. I don't care. I'm done. Rory's gone, and I didn't realize-I don't have anything at all in the world that's just for me. Anything to keep me here."
"Then why leave?" he says. He crosses the room and takes her hand. "You've got me."
"That's just the thing, Doctor. I don't have you at all. If I didn't do this now, then it'd happen too late. You'd be through with me eventually, and then where would I be?" She leans her forehead against his. "If I don't go now, if I don't learn how to live with normal, regular people-do you see what I mean? There's no way this'll end well."
"Amy, Amy, Amelia Pond," he murmurs. "Why can't you just let your fairy-tale have a happy ending?"
Amy tenses. "You really do love people, Doctor. But you don't understand them at all."
"Then teach me. You can make me understand, I'm not so old that I can't learn." He kisses her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, and then, lightly, the corner of her mouth. "Stay?"
Her eyes are closed, her lips are parted, but her spine is stiff and resolute. "I'm sorry," she says, and disentangles herself from him.
"For the record," he says, when he hears the door open, "I'd never be through with you."
She lets out a little puff of air that's almost a laugh. "We'll always have Venice. Or the gaping hole that tried to eat the universe. Or something. Good-bye, Doctor." The door shuts.
The TARDIS seems to narrow, as if to stretch towards her absence.
-
Leadworth is quiet at night, almost eerily so, but the Doctor thinks nothing of it, because as soon as he steps out-
"You came back!" shrieks Amelia, all of seven years old and radiating joy. She runs over to meet him, goes to hug him and pauses. "You're five minutes late," she informs him matter-of-factly.
He kneels down and lays his hands on her shoulders. "Amelia Pond," the Doctor says seriously, "if I can promise you one thing, it's that I will never make you wait again." He breaks into a smile. "Now, how do you feel about adventures?"