DW Oneshot: Of Mightier Suns
Title: Of Mightier Suns
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Amy/Rory
Summary: After the end of 6X6 the Doctor and Rory have to have a conversation about what they're going to do and Rory has to face his past in order to be able to help Amy.
Disclaimer: I don't own DW. Spoilers for A Good Man Goes to War. The title is by LM Montgomery.
Of Mightier Suns
“No, you’re not. And you haven’t been for a long time.”
And just like that Amy was gone. Rory stood still in shock for several minutes just staring while the Doctor turned around and started doing things to the Tardis, muttering names and places and times Rory had never heard of. Slowly Rory sank down into a crouch on the floor and put his hands to his mouth just staring at the white flesh that now coated the Tardis floor. He couldn’t even think, could barely understand. He wasn’t aware of anything. And then something pushed at his paralyzed mind and he looked up and saw the Doctor just…going on, like nothing had ever happened, and Rory rose to his feet and strode up the ramp and pushed his way in front of the Doctor so he could see his face.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked furiously. “Doctor, tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have time for this,” the Doctor said impatiently, moving around him. “I can’t
deal with your silly emotions right now, Rory; I have to figure out where to go. Don’t you see
that? No, of course, you don’t, you’re so human.”
“No!” Rory yelled, grabbing the Doctor and holding him firmly in place.
He was so mad he thought he might punch the Doctor again, but something stopped him. Something
keeping him on that sane side of rationality. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge,
but he would give the Doctor the benefit of the doubt. For a moment.
“Rory-“ the Doctor began.
“Shut up!” Rory shouted, shaking him a little. “I trusted you. You told me to do
something that is so insane, so unlike anything that I would ever do and because it’s you,
because I trusted you, I did it. Now…she’s gone. She’s just gone. Tell me what happened.
There’s no one listening, you said it yourself, you cut off the signal. Explain it to me. I
know we have to do things and I know it’s complicated, just explain it to me. Tell me and
maybe I can help, maybe I can’t, but at least I’ll know. Give that to me, Doctor. Give me
return for my trust.”
And Rory’s grip slackened and he swallowed a sob. But he didn’t break down, he held
on, and he looked the Doctor in the eye.
“Okay, Rory,” the Doctor said quietly, “okay. After America when Amy told me she was
pregnant, I scanned her. It kept saying she was and was not pregnant. Obviously, I thought
that was strange. So I kept watching her. And somewhere around the pirates I figured out it
must be a flesh avatar with us. The pregnancy and her absence were confirmed by her pains and
by the woman with the eye patch she kept seeing popping out of walls and things. I had to find
out more about it so I took us to the monastery. Now I know enough about the flesh to gather
what probably happened. Amy was taken from us likely before America. They’ve had a signal
cutting directly into my Tardis, showing us a ganger Amy. You can guess, surely you know, who
it is who has her.”
“The Silence,” Rory said, gulping and finally letting the Doctor go all the way.
“Yes, the mysterious Silence. And we’re going to find her now so if you’re quite done
having an emotional breakdown I’ll get back to it.”
Rory snapped his head up and looked the Doctor in the eye.
“Don’t you dare!” he said. “This is normal, what I’m doing, and I won’t apologize for
it. Be straight with me about my wife and you’ll find me as cooperative as you like.” The
Doctor nodded curtly. “So, Amy, the actual Amy wasn’t here? We’ve been running around with a
ganger and…” Rory’s eyes went wide “…oh my word, I’ve been sharing a bed with her. Amy’s going
to kill me.”
The Doctor finally smiled slightly and clapped Rory on the shoulder.
“Relax, Rory. Amy’s heart, her mind, her soul, that’s all been here with us. She
thought she was with us. That wasn’t a flesh ganger impersonating Amy, tricking us, that was
Amy without her body. She’ll remember all those…things you did, were doing, I don’t want to
know.”
Rory nodded, putting his head in his hands and allowing himself another second or so of
panic before standing up tall.
“What’s the next step? What do we do, Doctor? What can I do?”
“We’re going to call in every favor, every bargaining chip I have,” the Doctor said,
starting to whirl again. “Everybody who’s ever owed me anything. I’m going to get Amy back if
I have to blast through an entire army to get to her and you’re going to help me. They are
going to find out exactly what happens when they try to hurt me through other people. They’ll
find out what my own people knew, what the Daleks would tell their children at bedtime if they
had them. You do not kidnap the family of the Doctor. You do not hurt those loved by the
Oncoming Storm.”
Rory stepped back from the ferocity of the man’s eyes; after all, the other man loved
Amy too, and, for one second, felt pity for those who had taken Amy. But it only lasted that
long because the anger that the Doctor felt couldn’t possibly compare to the rage of red that
was tinting Rory’s vision at the moment. He’d never been an angry person, never struck anyone
in anger, never gotten into fights, barely stood up for himself, but he felt quite capable of
murder thinking about Amy alone, somewhere in the universe. It was a primal instinct, a basic
human emotion, and this was his family they were talking about.
“I need to help. I need to have a role in this. I’m going to get her back. She knows
I’m coming for her,” he said firmly, “so just let me help.”
“Then I need you to do something for me,” the Doctor said, coming quite close to Rory
and making him feel uncomfortable. “That door in your mind, the one you always keep shut so
tight, locked up against the madness, the one you keep Rory the Roman behind. You need to open
it. I need that man. Amy needs that man. The one who knows how to fight, who knows strategy,
who knows no fear, no weakness, the one with infinite patience and courage and strength. The
Last Centurion needs to come back to life.”
Rory’s head swam with the idea because he always tried so very hard to keep exactly
that man locked up. He didn’t want to be that man, that warrior, that legend. He wanted to be
Rory Williams from Leadworth, healer not killer, a bumbling nurse who everybody liked and
nobody remembered to talk to and who had the most amazing wife in the world. So naturally he
nodded.
“I know. I know, Doctor.”
“Then we’ll be needing to get you your uniform back,” the Doctor said. “I’m going to
make a list of all the people I can cobble up, we’ll get everyone together and get a plan
going. I’ve got so many ideas already. And you go into the wardrobe, fifth floor, second
aisle on the right, and you’ll find exactly what you need to be Rory the Roman again.”
The Doctor gripped Rory tightly in a hug for a few seconds and Rory felt the man’s
apology in that one gesture and gave his own in return. Then he left and went to the wardrobe
and found the armor. It was slightly awkward putting it on because he had only fake memories
of doing so. He’d really just been created as wearing it. But it was like shedding a second
skin and putting one on at the same time. It was like becoming a Roman again. It was the
final key he needed to push away who he was and become what he had been. In service of those
he loved.
And he was the Last Centurion from that point on. He did not take that armor off and
it wheedled its way into his head and cracked and then flung open that door. The memories and
the knowledge and the languages and the skills all came rushing out and flooded Rory’s entire
being. He didn’t try to stop it, he embraced it. He needed it as they gathered Silurians and
Sontarans and Judoon and Space Pirates and so so many others. He faced the Cybermen and didn’t
flinch, every inch of him completely committed to the cause of finding his wife.
Only with River did he feel a bit of Rory coming back in. Somehow he didn’t think he
looked that impressive to her and he didn’t feel the need to impress her, but he felt like he
should and that was unsettling. But the way she looked at him and said his name, it made him
feel so very queer, like she knew him or wanted something from him or might suddenly hug him or
pull a gun out of her muff and kill for him. It was all very odd. But her words made him
angry and made him fearful and made him all the more determined to be what he needed to be in
order to get Amy and his child back.
And he held a sword to a woman’s throat and he would have slit it if need be. Instead
he gave her over to the Doctor and maybe that was really the worst punishment he could think of
for someone who’d taken his wife and baby. Even with all the inventive and cruel practices
he’d experienced over the years coming back to him. The Romans had been all too clever about
maintaining discipline and that was just the beginning before things like the Inquisition had
added to his repertoire. But that wasn’t why he had opened that door in his head. He went to
find his family instead.
And when he held his baby for the first time the facade cracked all the way from his
head to his feet and he didn’t even care. He was holding his child, his baby, his little girl,
and he was going to protect her forever. He hadn’t even known he was going to be a father and
now it was thrust upon him and he was so very happy. And he was a bit proud of what he’d
accomplished and he wanted to tell Amy, show her - he didn’t even know what - that he could
take care of her, that he would always come for her, that they could be a family. And when he
did see her all he could do was cry and that was okay too. The Centurion was fading and Rory
coming into view and they were melding together in their desire to keep this family safe.
Then came the fight and the smoke and the laser blasts and the feel of cool steel in
his hands while the nurse faded into the background. Rory had learned to fight and fight
well. He’d been trained under Rome’s best and he’d had centuries to practice. Even Vastra
couldn’t keep up with him as they battled the Headless Monks and he killed and killed and
killed again. For Amy, for his little Melody, and for the Doctor. For forever it seemed, he
was whirling around, dealing out death to the deathless and already dead, until that horrified
scream hit his ears and he knew, he just knew.
Afterwards, the numbness and the coldness set in. But it was very much of his
Centurion self. He barely spoke to the Doctor, feeling again that cold rage against the man.
But it didn’t last very long because Rory was still there too, lurking very close to the
surface, and he understood what it was like to lose something, to accept a heavy burden to gain
it back again, to lose yourself in the weight of a title you hadn’t asked for, only to have it
not mean anything.
Watching the Sontaran die was a whole new revelation. It was odd to see someone who’d
lived their whole life longing for battle, glory and honor, forced into compassion, caring and
thankless drudgery, and then at their last breath, find meaning in what they’d been thrust
into. Rory knew that the Commander had meant that Rory too was a nurse, but it made him
think. Think too hard perhaps, because his story was the opposite. Rory had always wanted
peace, security, and to help others. Lately all he’d done was deal out death, revenge and
justice. Did that mean that he, as a nurse, would end up a warrior and never be able to go
back? Clutching Amy to him, trying to ease her pain, he felt enough of Rory to give him hope
that it wouldn’t always be that way.
Then his whole life turned over once again. After the pain, after the shock, after the
grieving, there was the knowledge that his daughter did survive. She might be a little bit
sociopathic and she might be possibly snogging the Doctor, which was a scary thought, but she
was his. His and Amy’s and she was alive. It only helped a little bit, to be honest. River
took them back home and didn’t answer any more questions and he wanted to ground her or
something. She might have all the answers, that was fine for her, but he and Amy were still
left alone, child-bereft, with no Doctor and one little bit of information.
He was still confused and still angry and still sad and the tidal waves of those emotions were
too much to bear along with the weight of his Roman years. And those emotions were more
important so he opened the door in his mind again and chucked everything Roman back in and was
Rory. Just Rory. Rory Williams, nurse, with a warrior inside his head. But perhaps there was
just a little more steel in his eyes as he went about Leadworth. Perhaps those of his peers
who met him would see just a little bit of something that frightened them when he talked.
Perhaps he used words that hadn’t been used in centuries and in dead languages. It wasn’t as
easy to put the Roman away this time and he guessed that was because he was that Roman as
simple as that may sound. Shutting the door hadn’t been erasing what he’d become and he found
now that he didn’t want to. Not completely.
He never wanted to give up everything that made him human, that choice, that love, that
loyalty, that had made him become the Centurion in the first place. He wanted to heal and he
wanted to protect and he wanted to have peace. But he would fight for it if need be and he’d
follow his family and his dreams and his faith in what he believed across the cosmos if he had
to. Die and die and die again. Be not one, but two men, not just Rory Williams. He could
never be just Rory Williams again.
Because his daughter was still out there. His Doctor was still searching. The war was being
fought in the heavens through all of time. He would need to be all the best things that he had
never known he could be. Roman and human, Rory and Centurion, husband, warrior, father,
legend. The war wasn’t over yet, it was just the quiet before the storm. Someday soon, if he
and Amy had anything to say about it, the battle would begin again and the full wrath of the
Last Centurion would be unleashed until Rory Williams finally got to hold his baby girl in his
arms.
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Amy/Rory
Summary: After the end of 6X6 the Doctor and Rory have to have a conversation about what they're going to do and Rory has to face his past in order to be able to help Amy.
Disclaimer: I don't own DW. Spoilers for A Good Man Goes to War. The title is by LM Montgomery.
Of Mightier Suns
“No, you’re not. And you haven’t been for a long time.”
And just like that Amy was gone. Rory stood still in shock for several minutes just staring while the Doctor turned around and started doing things to the Tardis, muttering names and places and times Rory had never heard of. Slowly Rory sank down into a crouch on the floor and put his hands to his mouth just staring at the white flesh that now coated the Tardis floor. He couldn’t even think, could barely understand. He wasn’t aware of anything. And then something pushed at his paralyzed mind and he looked up and saw the Doctor just…going on, like nothing had ever happened, and Rory rose to his feet and strode up the ramp and pushed his way in front of the Doctor so he could see his face.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked furiously. “Doctor, tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have time for this,” the Doctor said impatiently, moving around him. “I can’t
deal with your silly emotions right now, Rory; I have to figure out where to go. Don’t you see
that? No, of course, you don’t, you’re so human.”
“No!” Rory yelled, grabbing the Doctor and holding him firmly in place.
He was so mad he thought he might punch the Doctor again, but something stopped him. Something
keeping him on that sane side of rationality. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge,
but he would give the Doctor the benefit of the doubt. For a moment.
“Rory-“ the Doctor began.
“Shut up!” Rory shouted, shaking him a little. “I trusted you. You told me to do
something that is so insane, so unlike anything that I would ever do and because it’s you,
because I trusted you, I did it. Now…she’s gone. She’s just gone. Tell me what happened.
There’s no one listening, you said it yourself, you cut off the signal. Explain it to me. I
know we have to do things and I know it’s complicated, just explain it to me. Tell me and
maybe I can help, maybe I can’t, but at least I’ll know. Give that to me, Doctor. Give me
return for my trust.”
And Rory’s grip slackened and he swallowed a sob. But he didn’t break down, he held
on, and he looked the Doctor in the eye.
“Okay, Rory,” the Doctor said quietly, “okay. After America when Amy told me she was
pregnant, I scanned her. It kept saying she was and was not pregnant. Obviously, I thought
that was strange. So I kept watching her. And somewhere around the pirates I figured out it
must be a flesh avatar with us. The pregnancy and her absence were confirmed by her pains and
by the woman with the eye patch she kept seeing popping out of walls and things. I had to find
out more about it so I took us to the monastery. Now I know enough about the flesh to gather
what probably happened. Amy was taken from us likely before America. They’ve had a signal
cutting directly into my Tardis, showing us a ganger Amy. You can guess, surely you know, who
it is who has her.”
“The Silence,” Rory said, gulping and finally letting the Doctor go all the way.
“Yes, the mysterious Silence. And we’re going to find her now so if you’re quite done
having an emotional breakdown I’ll get back to it.”
Rory snapped his head up and looked the Doctor in the eye.
“Don’t you dare!” he said. “This is normal, what I’m doing, and I won’t apologize for
it. Be straight with me about my wife and you’ll find me as cooperative as you like.” The
Doctor nodded curtly. “So, Amy, the actual Amy wasn’t here? We’ve been running around with a
ganger and…” Rory’s eyes went wide “…oh my word, I’ve been sharing a bed with her. Amy’s going
to kill me.”
The Doctor finally smiled slightly and clapped Rory on the shoulder.
“Relax, Rory. Amy’s heart, her mind, her soul, that’s all been here with us. She
thought she was with us. That wasn’t a flesh ganger impersonating Amy, tricking us, that was
Amy without her body. She’ll remember all those…things you did, were doing, I don’t want to
know.”
Rory nodded, putting his head in his hands and allowing himself another second or so of
panic before standing up tall.
“What’s the next step? What do we do, Doctor? What can I do?”
“We’re going to call in every favor, every bargaining chip I have,” the Doctor said,
starting to whirl again. “Everybody who’s ever owed me anything. I’m going to get Amy back if
I have to blast through an entire army to get to her and you’re going to help me. They are
going to find out exactly what happens when they try to hurt me through other people. They’ll
find out what my own people knew, what the Daleks would tell their children at bedtime if they
had them. You do not kidnap the family of the Doctor. You do not hurt those loved by the
Oncoming Storm.”
Rory stepped back from the ferocity of the man’s eyes; after all, the other man loved
Amy too, and, for one second, felt pity for those who had taken Amy. But it only lasted that
long because the anger that the Doctor felt couldn’t possibly compare to the rage of red that
was tinting Rory’s vision at the moment. He’d never been an angry person, never struck anyone
in anger, never gotten into fights, barely stood up for himself, but he felt quite capable of
murder thinking about Amy alone, somewhere in the universe. It was a primal instinct, a basic
human emotion, and this was his family they were talking about.
“I need to help. I need to have a role in this. I’m going to get her back. She knows
I’m coming for her,” he said firmly, “so just let me help.”
“Then I need you to do something for me,” the Doctor said, coming quite close to Rory
and making him feel uncomfortable. “That door in your mind, the one you always keep shut so
tight, locked up against the madness, the one you keep Rory the Roman behind. You need to open
it. I need that man. Amy needs that man. The one who knows how to fight, who knows strategy,
who knows no fear, no weakness, the one with infinite patience and courage and strength. The
Last Centurion needs to come back to life.”
Rory’s head swam with the idea because he always tried so very hard to keep exactly
that man locked up. He didn’t want to be that man, that warrior, that legend. He wanted to be
Rory Williams from Leadworth, healer not killer, a bumbling nurse who everybody liked and
nobody remembered to talk to and who had the most amazing wife in the world. So naturally he
nodded.
“I know. I know, Doctor.”
“Then we’ll be needing to get you your uniform back,” the Doctor said. “I’m going to
make a list of all the people I can cobble up, we’ll get everyone together and get a plan
going. I’ve got so many ideas already. And you go into the wardrobe, fifth floor, second
aisle on the right, and you’ll find exactly what you need to be Rory the Roman again.”
The Doctor gripped Rory tightly in a hug for a few seconds and Rory felt the man’s
apology in that one gesture and gave his own in return. Then he left and went to the wardrobe
and found the armor. It was slightly awkward putting it on because he had only fake memories
of doing so. He’d really just been created as wearing it. But it was like shedding a second
skin and putting one on at the same time. It was like becoming a Roman again. It was the
final key he needed to push away who he was and become what he had been. In service of those
he loved.
And he was the Last Centurion from that point on. He did not take that armor off and
it wheedled its way into his head and cracked and then flung open that door. The memories and
the knowledge and the languages and the skills all came rushing out and flooded Rory’s entire
being. He didn’t try to stop it, he embraced it. He needed it as they gathered Silurians and
Sontarans and Judoon and Space Pirates and so so many others. He faced the Cybermen and didn’t
flinch, every inch of him completely committed to the cause of finding his wife.
Only with River did he feel a bit of Rory coming back in. Somehow he didn’t think he
looked that impressive to her and he didn’t feel the need to impress her, but he felt like he
should and that was unsettling. But the way she looked at him and said his name, it made him
feel so very queer, like she knew him or wanted something from him or might suddenly hug him or
pull a gun out of her muff and kill for him. It was all very odd. But her words made him
angry and made him fearful and made him all the more determined to be what he needed to be in
order to get Amy and his child back.
And he held a sword to a woman’s throat and he would have slit it if need be. Instead
he gave her over to the Doctor and maybe that was really the worst punishment he could think of
for someone who’d taken his wife and baby. Even with all the inventive and cruel practices
he’d experienced over the years coming back to him. The Romans had been all too clever about
maintaining discipline and that was just the beginning before things like the Inquisition had
added to his repertoire. But that wasn’t why he had opened that door in his head. He went to
find his family instead.
And when he held his baby for the first time the facade cracked all the way from his
head to his feet and he didn’t even care. He was holding his child, his baby, his little girl,
and he was going to protect her forever. He hadn’t even known he was going to be a father and
now it was thrust upon him and he was so very happy. And he was a bit proud of what he’d
accomplished and he wanted to tell Amy, show her - he didn’t even know what - that he could
take care of her, that he would always come for her, that they could be a family. And when he
did see her all he could do was cry and that was okay too. The Centurion was fading and Rory
coming into view and they were melding together in their desire to keep this family safe.
Then came the fight and the smoke and the laser blasts and the feel of cool steel in
his hands while the nurse faded into the background. Rory had learned to fight and fight
well. He’d been trained under Rome’s best and he’d had centuries to practice. Even Vastra
couldn’t keep up with him as they battled the Headless Monks and he killed and killed and
killed again. For Amy, for his little Melody, and for the Doctor. For forever it seemed, he
was whirling around, dealing out death to the deathless and already dead, until that horrified
scream hit his ears and he knew, he just knew.
Afterwards, the numbness and the coldness set in. But it was very much of his
Centurion self. He barely spoke to the Doctor, feeling again that cold rage against the man.
But it didn’t last very long because Rory was still there too, lurking very close to the
surface, and he understood what it was like to lose something, to accept a heavy burden to gain
it back again, to lose yourself in the weight of a title you hadn’t asked for, only to have it
not mean anything.
Watching the Sontaran die was a whole new revelation. It was odd to see someone who’d
lived their whole life longing for battle, glory and honor, forced into compassion, caring and
thankless drudgery, and then at their last breath, find meaning in what they’d been thrust
into. Rory knew that the Commander had meant that Rory too was a nurse, but it made him
think. Think too hard perhaps, because his story was the opposite. Rory had always wanted
peace, security, and to help others. Lately all he’d done was deal out death, revenge and
justice. Did that mean that he, as a nurse, would end up a warrior and never be able to go
back? Clutching Amy to him, trying to ease her pain, he felt enough of Rory to give him hope
that it wouldn’t always be that way.
Then his whole life turned over once again. After the pain, after the shock, after the
grieving, there was the knowledge that his daughter did survive. She might be a little bit
sociopathic and she might be possibly snogging the Doctor, which was a scary thought, but she
was his. His and Amy’s and she was alive. It only helped a little bit, to be honest. River
took them back home and didn’t answer any more questions and he wanted to ground her or
something. She might have all the answers, that was fine for her, but he and Amy were still
left alone, child-bereft, with no Doctor and one little bit of information.
He was still confused and still angry and still sad and the tidal waves of those emotions were
too much to bear along with the weight of his Roman years. And those emotions were more
important so he opened the door in his mind again and chucked everything Roman back in and was
Rory. Just Rory. Rory Williams, nurse, with a warrior inside his head. But perhaps there was
just a little more steel in his eyes as he went about Leadworth. Perhaps those of his peers
who met him would see just a little bit of something that frightened them when he talked.
Perhaps he used words that hadn’t been used in centuries and in dead languages. It wasn’t as
easy to put the Roman away this time and he guessed that was because he was that Roman as
simple as that may sound. Shutting the door hadn’t been erasing what he’d become and he found
now that he didn’t want to. Not completely.
He never wanted to give up everything that made him human, that choice, that love, that
loyalty, that had made him become the Centurion in the first place. He wanted to heal and he
wanted to protect and he wanted to have peace. But he would fight for it if need be and he’d
follow his family and his dreams and his faith in what he believed across the cosmos if he had
to. Die and die and die again. Be not one, but two men, not just Rory Williams. He could
never be just Rory Williams again.
Because his daughter was still out there. His Doctor was still searching. The war was being
fought in the heavens through all of time. He would need to be all the best things that he had
never known he could be. Roman and human, Rory and Centurion, husband, warrior, father,
legend. The war wasn’t over yet, it was just the quiet before the storm. Someday soon, if he
and Amy had anything to say about it, the battle would begin again and the full wrath of the
Last Centurion would be unleashed until Rory Williams finally got to hold his baby girl in his
arms.