Title: The Cure of Cotter Palluni
Author:
gwendolyndGenre: AU
Characters/Pairing: Amy/Eleven, and others
Rating: NC-17 (overall fic rating)
Word Count: Part 1 - 2,255
Spoilers: 5.09 - Cold Blood
Warnings: Dark fic
Disclaimer: Owned by people who are not me.
Summary: After the crack in the Silurian world erases Rory from the world, the Doctor succeeds in helping Amy keep his memory alive. He thought it was for the best, really he did, he knew his Pond could do anything she put her mind to-but he wasn’t ready for the future he had created in doing so.
As Amy sat under the console of the TARDIS for the fifth day in a row, the Doctor began to seriously question whether it had been wise to help her hold on to Rory’s memory instead of letting it get washed away with the light and that cursed crack in the universe. The glow and life that was the embodiment of Amelia Pond was gone. Her hair hung lifelessly down her back, face half obstructed by the way chunks fell over her shoulder. Her skin was pale and her eyes stared at the panels across from her, unfocused and mostly glazed over.
At first the Doctor had tried consoling her about it being a hero’s death, but it only seemed to upset her more so he’d tried distracting her instead. He’d given up after he’d made a (in retrospect horrible) joke about his Fez and the Last Centurion and she’d withdrawn completely into herself and shut down. Now, he was ready to force her back into her life-their life-because as much as he couldn’t admit it out loud, the Doctor needed Amy, needed to hold onto her. Now he’d landed the TARDIS in Rio, swearing to himself he would never...ever...break another promise to his dear Pond again. She would wait no more.
He scooped her up, his hearts sinking as she made no effort to even hold herself up, simply slumping against his chest without even blinking. Snapping his fingers to open the TARDIS doors, careful not to lose his hold on Amy, he stepped out into the warm air, smiling-he was sure this would work. “Look!” He turned sideways and gently sat her down on a nearby boulder, facing out onto the beautiful skyline of the city. Holding onto her shoulders to prevent her from slumping backwards, the Doctor leaned forward to look at her face, to see the light come back.
Smile fading, the Doctor sunk to sit beside Amy, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. “Oh Amy, beautiful, brilliant Amy, I’m sorry,” he whispered. He supposed he was expecting a magical transformation, to walk out, get her into the light and she would bounce right back to life. Standing carefully so she could keep her balance, he paced behind the TARDIS. Wringing his hands together, he kept an eye on her, mind racing. “Think,” he whacked himself on the side of the head, “think!”
Flying through a hundred scenarios that might help Amy within the next minute didn’t help in making things clearer. The Doctor turned for the thousandth time in his pacing and stumbled backwards with a cry as he found himself face to face with Amy. She was just standing, still staring, but she had moved. On her own. As far as the Doctor was concerned, this was progress.
*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*
The Doctor had realized fairly quickly that it was the process of the adventure that had sparked what little life Amy showed. When they returned to the TARDIS, she had slumped back into her usual spot, staring and just as unresponsive as ever. He racked his brain all evening, and decided their next stop would be the planet of Zom, where all emotion was outlawed. Perhaps then Amy would see others behaving as she was and her shell would crack with a joke.
She didn’t.
*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*
Avalon sparked enough interest that Amy actually blinked and focused on the six moons spanning the horizon. That night, the Doctor allowed himself time for a swim-something he’d been too worried and wound up to do for a while, but now, he wasn’t concerned to leave Amy unattended for a minute, confident that she was beginning to regain a sense of living again, though not yet being alive.
A spin out to Florana gained actual movement. The Doctor wasn’t sure if it was wonderful or sad how excited and pleased with himself he was to see Amy’s hands trailing through the swan down soft sand while he sunk into the bubbling ocean where it was near impossible to sink. She looked around, watched her hands create patterns in the sand, watched the bubbling waters lap at her buried feet.
Weeks after...well, after, Amy finally spoke. One word, if it can be called that, as they stepped out of the TARDIS. “Wow...” The Doctor grinned then, hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels briefly as he stared out at the electrical lightning storms that dramatically kept the atmosphere alive on Cotter Palluni. They walked the roads of shredded rubber in silence, but he could see it-he could see the horizon where Amy would forget-no, not forget, bear with the pain of their-her-great loss. It may still be distant, but it was there.
Determined that the travel was doing her well, the Doctor whisked them off to a gorgeous coastline filled with diamond coral reefs and silky waters. Kataa Floko was known across the stars and suns as the galactic paradise. Natural, free range, so to speak, unlike Midnight, where species had taken advantage of the beauty and made money off the visitors. The Doctor was pleased with himself, enjoying the view and the waters until he noticed Amy retreating back into her protective shield.
It didn’t make sense, two more planets and various cities and civilizations, and Amy was closing off more and more. Desperate to avoid falling into the pattern he was so sure he’d beaten, the Doctor skipped across universes faster than he ever remembered in order to return to the place Amy seemed most alive. Back to Cotter Palluni with their continual lightning storms, and the result was instantaneous. With the first flash of lightning, the first crackle of electricity sweeping across the ground, Amy blinked and her eyes focused again, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips as she stared at the skies.
This was it. He wasn’t sure how or why, but for some reason, this world was the key to waking Amy up.
*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*
Another month passed, and the Doctor had begun to feel at ease. Nothing was back to normal, but they had created their own new normal. There wasn’t laughter in the TARDIS anymore, but then, she wasn’t flying much anymore either. Whenever they flew away, he could see that it wasn’t where Amy wanted to be, and it hurt. He couldn’t remember hurting like this before, and he was as desperate to ease his own pain as he was to help her get back to the best she could be.
He’d never imagined it, never thought that he would be... settling. He supposed that was the best word for it. Amy spent most her time walking the roads under the storms, they didn’t talk a lot, and he’d been spending a lot of time working on various things around the TARDIS. He may have destroyed some part of his precious Amelia Pond, but he was confident that his efforts were being rewarded with the life that had come back to her, bringing her back to him.
Eventually the Doctor lost track of the time that passed-which on its own wasn’t unusual, but standing still and losing track of time, that was new to him. All that mattered was he couldn’t remember the last time that Amy had spent a night away from the TARDIS, and he couldn’t see how that could be a bad thing.
It was when he was jolted out of relaxation in the pool by Amy’s smooth voice, that he knew something was wrong.
“Doctor...” Amy seemed to purr.
Ignoring the urge to swallow down the fear that suddenly rose, the Doctor opened his eyes, leaving himself submerged in the sparkling green waters. Yes, something was wrong. It hadn’t clicked until now, until she’d spoken, that she hadn’t spoken in...since Rory. He’d conditioned himself to ignore the fact, and to his surprise, he had actually forgotten. Now that, combined with the unfaltering gaze and slow seductive blinks, he was sure, sure, something was wrong, but that feeling didn’t match the sultry vision in front of him.
Wiping the water hastily from his eyes, the Doctor pushed himself to a sitting position as he did a quick once over her, making sure his eyes didn’t leave hers. A perk of being a Time Lord, looking around without seeming to really look around--part of the psychic thing. Her hair was in loose curls around her bare shoulders, the red complimenting the blue of her halter dress-a dress that from this angle did nothing to hide---
The Doctor quickly dropped his eyes to the surface of the pool. Rubbing a hand over his arm, he felt her slide into the water beside him, and he shifted in his seat unable to shake the uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Amy...” he said slowly, cautiously, glancing nervously between her half lidded eyes and her one delicate hands floating out to caress his shoulder.
“My Raggedy Man, shh,” she whispered, one hand smoothing down the side of his face.
Her voice was so silky, he wasn’t sure how he’d forgotten that, but to hear words-real words-again, he knew he craved more. He knew this was not supposed to happen, didn’t want it to happen, but there was a dazzle to her eyes he couldn’t pull away from even as they drew closer and closer.
Her hand slid down his shoulder, over his arm and, despite a short lived struggle to move backwards and away, across his naval to cup his barely covered cock. Words-were they protests or encouragement?-faltered at his throat as she palmed a slow circle and when her tongue slid gently across his upper lip he practically came unglued. What little brain power he had left wondered if she knew the specialty of the pool, the powers within it to sate a Time Lord’s (perhaps anyone’s?) needs, so this-this was almost torture. He has sexual needs too, he’s only human after...well not quite but same rules.
Running a rough hand through his bangs, the Doctor gasped as Amy’s fingers curled around his hard cock, pulling once, twice, before her lips pressed fully against his. Her lips felt cool against his, but her hand seemed to pull the heat from his entire body right to his groin, leaving him light headed. He had no idea what to do with his hands and they flitted from pushing at her shoulders with open palms, to scrambling to find purchase on the pool’s edge or the seat he was on. When Amy fit her body flush against his, knees on either side of his hips, he couldn’t help himself from sliding his hands on either side of her face to pull her in for a deeper kiss.
It had been so long since he’d-well done anything really, and he knew, he knew the pool was numbing his thoughts, slowing him down enough to enjoy the moment, keeping from being his usual all over the place self. He knew it, and yet he couldn’t help but revel in the silken skin against his. He couldn’t deny how much he craved more, had since she first shoved him against the TARDIS and pulled at his suspenders.
“Amy....Amy!” The Doctor’s voice went from a groan to a strangled cry as she shoved him off the seat and towards the middle of the pool. He scrambled to tread water and stay afloat as she smiled and swam slowly towards him. God those lips-were they that red before, or had he made them that red? He hoped it was him, if the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine was any measure.
He hadn’t realized how far out Amy had managed to shove him out until he was watching her steady glide towards him, her dress impossibly tight and deliciously revealing and *distracting*. He needed to shake his head to clear it on two occasions to avoid slipping under the surface, but he had a moment of clarity just as she reached him, a clarity that allowed him to notice the flash of silver under the surface in her hand.
“What is---“
“Shh...” she cooed, hair impossibly perfect and framing her face, a warm, painted finger pressing against his lips.
As Amy’s hand slid around to cup the back of his neck, the Doctor fought to remember what he was about to protest, what it was that he was needing her to answer. As her lips kissed their way up the line of his jaw and to his ear, he struggled to remain above the surface of the water, his mind spinning with the pleasure, his cock aching for her body to be pressed against him again. The plea he was about to groan out cut short with a gasp as a sharp pain blossomed out across his throat. Pulling his head back and frowning, the Doctor reached for his neck quickly, senses sharpening and sending a signal of panic to his muddled brain.
Amy was quick, catching his wrist before he could check the skin, her tongue suddenly soothing over the line. She released him, shoving him again so he was against the side of the pool again, shallow now, and the way she seemed to have a haze around her made the Doctor unsure if he was seeing correctly. If he was, then Amy had just lapped up blood from his neck and was making a show of licking her lips with it before swallowing the blood down.