April Showers Prompt #12 -- Something Else (Doctor Who; Rory/Amy)
Title: Something Else
Author: firstbreaths
Prompt: #12, alien
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Rory/Amy
Genre: romance
Rating & Warnings: PG13 | none
Word Count: 453
Summary: Rory Williams loved aliens, once.
Author's Notes: This is what happens when you know that the new season of Doctor Who is premiering in less than a week, and you realise exactly how much you've missed all the delightful possibilities that this show brings. Or when you're procrastinating writing other things.
Rory Williams loved aliens, once.
He'd grown up with them as a boy, in a room littered with Star Trek posters and the knowledge that they had this untapped potential, not just as characters in science-fiction movies, but as a gateway -- a bridge in the gaping chasm between here and somewhere else. In a world that sometimes seemed too bland and monotonous, he liked knowing that somewhere out there, just beyond the vastest extent of their knowledge, there was something -- something else.
His father had been quick to dismiss it as a foolish dream, once, one that wouldn't make it across that entirely similar black hole that seemed to exist between childhood and adolescence, like there was a moment where any hope you'd ever had could just drop out of you, never coming back.
But, he'd clung to that dream for as long as possible, however, until in high school he was the boy who could sprout facts about faraway galaxies most of his classmates had never heard of and wrote reports about Andromeda and Neptune for extra credit. It wasn't scientific curiosity that made him do it, exactly; Rory didn't want to be an astronaut, cataloguing the seemingly impossible, breaking it down into quantifiable parts as though he had to justify to someone that yes, this is real. He didn't even want to be a science fiction writer, really, because it wasn't like Amy with her stupid Raggedy Doctor to him, all hopeless romanticism and make believe.
Mostly, Rory just liked the possibility that there was something out there, somewhere -- a world that didn't need explaining because it couldn't always be explained.
Then he fell in love with Amy Pond, and he realised - he didn't need the promise of aliens, anymore. Because the way she made him felt couldn't be explained, either; the way he felt like his heart was constricting in his chest every time she kissed, her fingers warm against his hypersensitive skin as he thought that he was dying, yes, but that he'd also never been more alive. He felt that he could lose himself in her, an infinite world of possibilities that he found himself mapping out, because it was no longer the world he needed to prove something to, but himself. Because the way she made him feel, making him feel safe and vulnerable and loved all at the same time, in a way he couldn't quite explain -- most of the time, he struggled to believe that it was real.
But it was, the something else he'd been looking for somewhere else turning out to be right here.
The fact that, later, she introduced him to aliens, too -- that was just an added bonus.
Author: firstbreaths
Prompt: #12, alien
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Rory/Amy
Genre: romance
Rating & Warnings: PG13 | none
Word Count: 453
Summary: Rory Williams loved aliens, once.
Author's Notes: This is what happens when you know that the new season of Doctor Who is premiering in less than a week, and you realise exactly how much you've missed all the delightful possibilities that this show brings. Or when you're procrastinating writing other things.
Rory Williams loved aliens, once.
He'd grown up with them as a boy, in a room littered with Star Trek posters and the knowledge that they had this untapped potential, not just as characters in science-fiction movies, but as a gateway -- a bridge in the gaping chasm between here and somewhere else. In a world that sometimes seemed too bland and monotonous, he liked knowing that somewhere out there, just beyond the vastest extent of their knowledge, there was something -- something else.
His father had been quick to dismiss it as a foolish dream, once, one that wouldn't make it across that entirely similar black hole that seemed to exist between childhood and adolescence, like there was a moment where any hope you'd ever had could just drop out of you, never coming back.
But, he'd clung to that dream for as long as possible, however, until in high school he was the boy who could sprout facts about faraway galaxies most of his classmates had never heard of and wrote reports about Andromeda and Neptune for extra credit. It wasn't scientific curiosity that made him do it, exactly; Rory didn't want to be an astronaut, cataloguing the seemingly impossible, breaking it down into quantifiable parts as though he had to justify to someone that yes, this is real. He didn't even want to be a science fiction writer, really, because it wasn't like Amy with her stupid Raggedy Doctor to him, all hopeless romanticism and make believe.
Mostly, Rory just liked the possibility that there was something out there, somewhere -- a world that didn't need explaining because it couldn't always be explained.
Then he fell in love with Amy Pond, and he realised - he didn't need the promise of aliens, anymore. Because the way she made him felt couldn't be explained, either; the way he felt like his heart was constricting in his chest every time she kissed, her fingers warm against his hypersensitive skin as he thought that he was dying, yes, but that he'd also never been more alive. He felt that he could lose himself in her, an infinite world of possibilities that he found himself mapping out, because it was no longer the world he needed to prove something to, but himself. Because the way she made him feel, making him feel safe and vulnerable and loved all at the same time, in a way he couldn't quite explain -- most of the time, he struggled to believe that it was real.
But it was, the something else he'd been looking for somewhere else turning out to be right here.
The fact that, later, she introduced him to aliens, too -- that was just an added bonus.