Fic #4: Frozen Memories
Title: Frozen Memories
Author: miracleofmercy
Characters: Amy (and Rory) + Eleven
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The Beeb and the Moff own it, I just borrow.
Summary: Amy keeps crying, but she doesn't know why.
Author's notes: This is my favourite piece that I've written yet! Written for Challenge 03 at she_is_to_me. Beta-ed by the ever so marvellous beingfacetious. Set sometime between The Lodger and The Pandorica Opens.
This was definitely not Rio.
Snow, biting wind, big frozen plain below. Nope, this was definitely NOT Rio.
"Doctor!" Amy Pond was freezing, standing on the cold, snow-packed ground. The TARDIS had landed on the top of a hill. "You flew the TARDIS wrong again!"
"I know how to fly my own TARDIS, thank you very much. Don't believe River Song too much. It's Rio, I'm certain of it!" The Doctor emerged from the TARDIS indignantly; ready to counter Amy's claim, and almost tumbling down the hill as he strode out swiftly. Catching his balance, he stopped, noticed the snow, and that stopped his planned remarks to Amy right in their verbal tracks. "Oh."
"Oh?" Her reply dripped in sarcasm.
He looked sheepishly at her and brushed snow from his hands. "Seventh time's the charm?"
Amy glared at him. "I'm going to grab some warm clothes in TARDIS. Might as well make an adventure out of this." She stomped back to the TARDIS. "Don't YOU want any warmer clothes?"
"Nope, I'm fine." He grinned, fiddling with his burgundy bow tie. Amy rolled her eyes in response.
There were warm clothes in the trunk under the stairs next to the kitchen past the library containing the swimming pool. She dug through the layers of clothes, finally settling on a thick white jacket and a pair of red woollen gloves. She was putting the rest of the clothes back when she saw several plaid ponchos. She grinned at the sight, remembering the Doctor in a poncho, the time they were stuck in the Dreamlord’s fantasies, the different dream worlds, the TARDIS falling towards that cold star.
My boys, my poncho boys.
The phrase made her suddenly and immensely sad, but she had no idea why. The grin was wiped from her face, replaced with puzzlement as she fingered a red plaid poncho. Why was she sad about her poncho boys? She and the Doctor came out all right from that. So why was she so bothered about it? A single hot tear started a trail down her cold cheek, ignored.
What is it about this poncho?
"Amy! Did you get lost in there?!"
The Doctor's yell shook Amy out of her reverie. She stuffed the rest of the clothes back into the trunk, but she took the poncho and quickly folded it into a small triangle, stuffing it in the pocket of the newly acquired jacket. She had no idea why she was doing it, but it felt right. She brushed away the wetness she now found on her face, surprised by the salty tang that had trickled to her mouth. She was crying again, and she realized that she didn't know why, just like she did not know why the poncho was so important. She had been unknowingly crying at the littlest instances lately. Vincent van Gogh had told her that he sensed her loss and the reason she was crying.
But why do I not know it?
Sometimes she could feel the Doctor looking at her intensely and sadly when he thought she wasn't looking, and she would say something quick and chirpy as if she didn't notice. It’s as if he knows too. But why doesn't he tell me?
"Amelia!"
She grabbed the red gloves and got up. "Alright, I'm coming!"
* * *
"TARDIS scanner says we're in Reykjavik, 2003. Brilliant. See, not too far from the name ‘Rio’, is it?" The Doctor walked excitedly along the sidewalk, a big boyish grin on his face. "Probably got the coordinates slightly off when I was trying to fix the zig-zag plotter you broke."
"It was an accident!" Amy answered indignantly. "You didn't warn me we were landing already." Despite the thick padded jacket and gloves, Amy was still very cold. How in the world was the Doctor able to stand the freezing conditions in that tweed jacket? Must be all that alienness. The Doctor had insisted that they walk into the nearest town and see some sights. "But no, you still owe me Rio. I'm not letting you forget about it."
"Oh all right. Seventh time's the charm, I said," the Doctor answered. He took Amy's hand and pulled her into a junction to a public park with a frozen pond in the middle, locals wrapped up in layers of thermals skating about on it. Tall majestic pine trees stood surrounded a clearing a little far off. "Look! Frozen pond! How's about some skating, Pond? Pond, on a pond? Get it?" He grinned idiotically, pointing at a skate-rental booth in the corner.
"Right. Like I've never heard that before. You're falling flat today, you are." Still, Amy let herself be pulled towards the booth, and was soon laughing at the weird pattern of the skates that the Doctor had chosen. A few rounds of skating, multiple falls and some awful twirls later, the Doctor and Amy plopped themselves on a free bench, cups of hot chocolate in their hands. They watched as children made snow angels on the ground, and laughed at some guys making some spectacularly odd-shaped snowmen.
"This place reminds me of the Ood sphere," said the Doctor. "All snow and ice but so very beautiful."
"And where is this Ood sphere? Is it near Rio?"
The Doctor refused to rise to the bait. "Oh, it is far far away. Very far away. A whole other lifetime ago type of faraway, actually." There was a look on his face that Amy recognized, like the time he had talked about his own planet. Amy wondered what he was being reminded of, perhaps a memory too sad to share. She fingered the folded poncho that was still in her pocket. Maybe it's not only me today.
A loud shriek of laughter broke through their thoughts. Several children were trying to roll snow to make a new snowman. Amy smiled at the sight. "You know, in Leadworth, I used to get so excited about winter, because there was so much fun that could be had in the snow. Made loads of snowmen; it used to drive Aunt Sharon mad because they crowded the garden and she couldn't put her decorations. Used to have loads of snowfights with the other kids, but I always won, ever since that first Christmas after I met you. All the kids said I was mad for having a Raggedy Doctor as an imaginary friend, but I had this great partner, he was ... " Amy's forehead scrunched in concentration, trying to remember. "Met him after ... he was ... he was ...”
The Doctor looked at her with so much compassion in his eyes, young yet still ancient and wise. "He was ...?"
"I don't know. There's something ... someone ... I can’t remember." Amy shook her head, shrugging it off as if it didn't matter, but inwardly it nagged at her, just like that poncho in her pocket was nagging her. She slipped a gloved hand into her pocket, fingering the folded poncho. Why am I so bothered about a poncho? Silly thing. Biggest crime against fashion since lederhosen. That last thought sounded so familiar. She withdrew her hand from her pocket and took a sip of her hot chocolate, letting the heat emanating from the cup warm her face and her hands.
"It's okay," said the Doctor softly. He reached out a hand and gently brushed away the tears pooling in her eyes. She was surprised by her own tears again. Cup of chocolate abandoned, the Doctor put his arms around Amy, hugging her tightly as more tears threatened to flow, her frustrated mind and her sad heart coming together to evoke a gallimaufry of confusing emotions. The red velvet box in the Doctor's jacket pocket weighed his heart down more with each passing day of Amy not remembering. "It's okay."
* * *
They finally left the park and its frozen pond when darkness began to fall. They began to walk back to where the TARDIS was parked, the Doctor deciding that perhaps it was best that he would try for some other sunny destination other than Rio. Maybe Space Florida. They trudged back up the hill they'd come down earlier, watching the lights beginning to turn on in the houses downhill. It was a lovely sight, a small suburb tucked away in swaths of white snow and pine trees and warm yellow lights, like a picture in a postcard.
As they trudged slowly up the hill, the Doctor's boots making big clompy patterns in the snow, three children passed them by in the opposite direction. A boy of about 12, blond tufts of hair peeking out from under his snowcap, was dragging a toboggan down, two young girls occupying the space on the toboggan. The two apple-cheeked girls in matching red bobble hats and blue coats waved to Amy and the Doctor as they went past. The Doctor and Amy stopped for a moment, waving back at the children, who then continued to chatter excitedly to each other while the boy slowly led them down.
"Siblings. The genetic resemblances are unmissable," the Doctor quipped. "Did I tell you of the time I met the Slitheen family from Raxacoricofallapatorious? Blew up 10 Downing Street to get rid of them. Ghastly looking creatures, all huge and green and boggle-eyed, and they smelt awful. I wouldn't want a resemblance to that family."
"Yeah, sure," Amy said absently, still waving to the children even though they had long stopped looking at the Doctor and Amy. The sight of the girls in their red hats and blue coats reminded Amy so vividly of her young self: wee Amelia who waited for the Doctor in the garden that night many years ago, dressed exactly like that. It’s like I’m waving to myself. Her wandering thoughts stopped short, a sense of déjà vu coming over her. I’ve done this before. This time she could feel the warm tears carving a path down her cheeks immediately. She kept waving, not bothering to wipe the tears away.
"Amy?"
"I thought I saw someone else, last time." She just kept waving, and the tears kept coming.
The Doctor didn't answer.
"Why do I keep crying, Doctor? Why won't you tell me?" She pulled out the poncho from her jacket pocket and turned around, looking at the Doctor with such sadness in her eyes that hurt his heart. "Vincent knows, and I know you know too. I'm even crying over a silly old poncho. Why is this happening?"
"Oh, Amy." For the second time that day, he drew her close as she struggled against her tears. They stood there together on the frozen hillside, now oblivious to the cold; one wracked with loss she did not understand, the other buffered by guilt of his failure to make her remember. He whispered in her ear, "Some things have to be remembered."
It wasn't the answer she wanted, but her heart was too broken to let her mind understand why. She whispered softly back. "I'll try."
* * *
Author: miracleofmercy
Characters: Amy (and Rory) + Eleven
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The Beeb and the Moff own it, I just borrow.
Summary: Amy keeps crying, but she doesn't know why.
Author's notes: This is my favourite piece that I've written yet! Written for Challenge 03 at she_is_to_me. Beta-ed by the ever so marvellous beingfacetious. Set sometime between The Lodger and The Pandorica Opens.
This was definitely not Rio.
Snow, biting wind, big frozen plain below. Nope, this was definitely NOT Rio.
"Doctor!" Amy Pond was freezing, standing on the cold, snow-packed ground. The TARDIS had landed on the top of a hill. "You flew the TARDIS wrong again!"
"I know how to fly my own TARDIS, thank you very much. Don't believe River Song too much. It's Rio, I'm certain of it!" The Doctor emerged from the TARDIS indignantly; ready to counter Amy's claim, and almost tumbling down the hill as he strode out swiftly. Catching his balance, he stopped, noticed the snow, and that stopped his planned remarks to Amy right in their verbal tracks. "Oh."
"Oh?" Her reply dripped in sarcasm.
He looked sheepishly at her and brushed snow from his hands. "Seventh time's the charm?"
Amy glared at him. "I'm going to grab some warm clothes in TARDIS. Might as well make an adventure out of this." She stomped back to the TARDIS. "Don't YOU want any warmer clothes?"
"Nope, I'm fine." He grinned, fiddling with his burgundy bow tie. Amy rolled her eyes in response.
There were warm clothes in the trunk under the stairs next to the kitchen past the library containing the swimming pool. She dug through the layers of clothes, finally settling on a thick white jacket and a pair of red woollen gloves. She was putting the rest of the clothes back when she saw several plaid ponchos. She grinned at the sight, remembering the Doctor in a poncho, the time they were stuck in the Dreamlord’s fantasies, the different dream worlds, the TARDIS falling towards that cold star.
My boys, my poncho boys.
The phrase made her suddenly and immensely sad, but she had no idea why. The grin was wiped from her face, replaced with puzzlement as she fingered a red plaid poncho. Why was she sad about her poncho boys? She and the Doctor came out all right from that. So why was she so bothered about it? A single hot tear started a trail down her cold cheek, ignored.
What is it about this poncho?
"Amy! Did you get lost in there?!"
The Doctor's yell shook Amy out of her reverie. She stuffed the rest of the clothes back into the trunk, but she took the poncho and quickly folded it into a small triangle, stuffing it in the pocket of the newly acquired jacket. She had no idea why she was doing it, but it felt right. She brushed away the wetness she now found on her face, surprised by the salty tang that had trickled to her mouth. She was crying again, and she realized that she didn't know why, just like she did not know why the poncho was so important. She had been unknowingly crying at the littlest instances lately. Vincent van Gogh had told her that he sensed her loss and the reason she was crying.
But why do I not know it?
Sometimes she could feel the Doctor looking at her intensely and sadly when he thought she wasn't looking, and she would say something quick and chirpy as if she didn't notice. It’s as if he knows too. But why doesn't he tell me?
"Amelia!"
She grabbed the red gloves and got up. "Alright, I'm coming!"
* * *
"TARDIS scanner says we're in Reykjavik, 2003. Brilliant. See, not too far from the name ‘Rio’, is it?" The Doctor walked excitedly along the sidewalk, a big boyish grin on his face. "Probably got the coordinates slightly off when I was trying to fix the zig-zag plotter you broke."
"It was an accident!" Amy answered indignantly. "You didn't warn me we were landing already." Despite the thick padded jacket and gloves, Amy was still very cold. How in the world was the Doctor able to stand the freezing conditions in that tweed jacket? Must be all that alienness. The Doctor had insisted that they walk into the nearest town and see some sights. "But no, you still owe me Rio. I'm not letting you forget about it."
"Oh all right. Seventh time's the charm, I said," the Doctor answered. He took Amy's hand and pulled her into a junction to a public park with a frozen pond in the middle, locals wrapped up in layers of thermals skating about on it. Tall majestic pine trees stood surrounded a clearing a little far off. "Look! Frozen pond! How's about some skating, Pond? Pond, on a pond? Get it?" He grinned idiotically, pointing at a skate-rental booth in the corner.
"Right. Like I've never heard that before. You're falling flat today, you are." Still, Amy let herself be pulled towards the booth, and was soon laughing at the weird pattern of the skates that the Doctor had chosen. A few rounds of skating, multiple falls and some awful twirls later, the Doctor and Amy plopped themselves on a free bench, cups of hot chocolate in their hands. They watched as children made snow angels on the ground, and laughed at some guys making some spectacularly odd-shaped snowmen.
"This place reminds me of the Ood sphere," said the Doctor. "All snow and ice but so very beautiful."
"And where is this Ood sphere? Is it near Rio?"
The Doctor refused to rise to the bait. "Oh, it is far far away. Very far away. A whole other lifetime ago type of faraway, actually." There was a look on his face that Amy recognized, like the time he had talked about his own planet. Amy wondered what he was being reminded of, perhaps a memory too sad to share. She fingered the folded poncho that was still in her pocket. Maybe it's not only me today.
A loud shriek of laughter broke through their thoughts. Several children were trying to roll snow to make a new snowman. Amy smiled at the sight. "You know, in Leadworth, I used to get so excited about winter, because there was so much fun that could be had in the snow. Made loads of snowmen; it used to drive Aunt Sharon mad because they crowded the garden and she couldn't put her decorations. Used to have loads of snowfights with the other kids, but I always won, ever since that first Christmas after I met you. All the kids said I was mad for having a Raggedy Doctor as an imaginary friend, but I had this great partner, he was ... " Amy's forehead scrunched in concentration, trying to remember. "Met him after ... he was ... he was ...”
The Doctor looked at her with so much compassion in his eyes, young yet still ancient and wise. "He was ...?"
"I don't know. There's something ... someone ... I can’t remember." Amy shook her head, shrugging it off as if it didn't matter, but inwardly it nagged at her, just like that poncho in her pocket was nagging her. She slipped a gloved hand into her pocket, fingering the folded poncho. Why am I so bothered about a poncho? Silly thing. Biggest crime against fashion since lederhosen. That last thought sounded so familiar. She withdrew her hand from her pocket and took a sip of her hot chocolate, letting the heat emanating from the cup warm her face and her hands.
"It's okay," said the Doctor softly. He reached out a hand and gently brushed away the tears pooling in her eyes. She was surprised by her own tears again. Cup of chocolate abandoned, the Doctor put his arms around Amy, hugging her tightly as more tears threatened to flow, her frustrated mind and her sad heart coming together to evoke a gallimaufry of confusing emotions. The red velvet box in the Doctor's jacket pocket weighed his heart down more with each passing day of Amy not remembering. "It's okay."
* * *
They finally left the park and its frozen pond when darkness began to fall. They began to walk back to where the TARDIS was parked, the Doctor deciding that perhaps it was best that he would try for some other sunny destination other than Rio. Maybe Space Florida. They trudged back up the hill they'd come down earlier, watching the lights beginning to turn on in the houses downhill. It was a lovely sight, a small suburb tucked away in swaths of white snow and pine trees and warm yellow lights, like a picture in a postcard.
As they trudged slowly up the hill, the Doctor's boots making big clompy patterns in the snow, three children passed them by in the opposite direction. A boy of about 12, blond tufts of hair peeking out from under his snowcap, was dragging a toboggan down, two young girls occupying the space on the toboggan. The two apple-cheeked girls in matching red bobble hats and blue coats waved to Amy and the Doctor as they went past. The Doctor and Amy stopped for a moment, waving back at the children, who then continued to chatter excitedly to each other while the boy slowly led them down.
"Siblings. The genetic resemblances are unmissable," the Doctor quipped. "Did I tell you of the time I met the Slitheen family from Raxacoricofallapatorious? Blew up 10 Downing Street to get rid of them. Ghastly looking creatures, all huge and green and boggle-eyed, and they smelt awful. I wouldn't want a resemblance to that family."
"Yeah, sure," Amy said absently, still waving to the children even though they had long stopped looking at the Doctor and Amy. The sight of the girls in their red hats and blue coats reminded Amy so vividly of her young self: wee Amelia who waited for the Doctor in the garden that night many years ago, dressed exactly like that. It’s like I’m waving to myself. Her wandering thoughts stopped short, a sense of déjà vu coming over her. I’ve done this before. This time she could feel the warm tears carving a path down her cheeks immediately. She kept waving, not bothering to wipe the tears away.
"Amy?"
"I thought I saw someone else, last time." She just kept waving, and the tears kept coming.
The Doctor didn't answer.
"Why do I keep crying, Doctor? Why won't you tell me?" She pulled out the poncho from her jacket pocket and turned around, looking at the Doctor with such sadness in her eyes that hurt his heart. "Vincent knows, and I know you know too. I'm even crying over a silly old poncho. Why is this happening?"
"Oh, Amy." For the second time that day, he drew her close as she struggled against her tears. They stood there together on the frozen hillside, now oblivious to the cold; one wracked with loss she did not understand, the other buffered by guilt of his failure to make her remember. He whispered in her ear, "Some things have to be remembered."
It wasn't the answer she wanted, but her heart was too broken to let her mind understand why. She whispered softly back. "I'll try."
* * *