Fic: The Important Half
Title: The Important Half
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Eleven/Amy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,054
Warnings: spoilers up to and including 5x04 and the 5x05 promo
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, show's not mine, all belongs to the good BBC, no suing necessary. =)
Summary: Based loosely on the preview for 5x05 Flesh and Stone. With the Doctor's help, Amy resists the Weeping Angel in her head.
Author's Notes: After I watched 5x04 I saw the preview for 5x05 and couldn't wait, so this spilled out in a burst of inspiration (while I was trying to do my biology lab report ;P). Please forgive the inaccuracies; I really don't know how the Angels work their mind-control thingy so I fudged the details there. ;) Enjoy! Oh, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, since I haven't been writing fanfic for a year or two and I'm quite rusty.^^
Amy struggles to catch her breath, leaning her hands on her knees as she waits for the others to catch up. The surrounding forest echoes with the footfalls of the survivors, running just as hard as she had been to escape the Angels' trap. Her stomach is roiling with fear and nausea and her breathing comes in sharp gasps as her heart pounds heavily along in time. She's exhausted, physically and mentally. Her head spins with thoughts of the past ten minutes as the adrenaline pumps through her veins. Everything is happening so fast. She can hardly believe she's still alive.
She'd been ready to die back there, in the cave. In her head she'd said goodbye to everyone: the Doctor, Rory, her aunt, River, even Jeff. She'd prepared herself so carefully to be left behind, be a sacrifice for the good of everyone. She was used to being left behind anyway. It would have been bitterly fitting, she thought, for Amelia Pond to die as alone as she had began, in a dark fairytale that had come full circle.
But the Doctor hadn't left her. He had stayed, even as the terrifying stone visages of the Angels slipped closer with every flicker of the light. Her mind flashes back to the moment, to his head leaning against hers and his breath warm against her ear as he murmured fiercely, "Amy Pond, you are magnificent." At the time she'd interpreted as a farewell, and had savored the words, imprinting the wonderful feeling of his praise in her mind as her last memory. She'd refused to let herself feel betrayed, even the slightest bit, because she'd known what she was doing and she would NOT let those people, including the Doctor, die just because she hadn't been fast enough or smart enough to avoid the Angel's gaze.
All the same, she couldn't help feeling the familiar sinking sensation of abandonment. It was the same terrible realization of loss that had stunned and scarred her fourteen years ago. Suddenly she'd been a little girl again. In her mind she was reduced to seven-year-old Amelia again, staring at the sky out her bedroom window after her aunt had dragged her kicking and screaming from her waiting position in the backyard, tears prickling the back of her eyes because maybe the psychiatrists had been right all along.
Even with those memories flooding her mind, even with her heart sinking and her eyes damp, she'd known what she had to do. She'd steeled herself and managed to tell the Doctor that she understood. She could handle it now; she wasn't seven anymore. He had to leave her.
But he hadn't gone. Even now, as Amy gasps for breath and knows that it isn't over with the Angels (not nearly over), and understands that she doesn't have the time or luxury for emotional introspection, she can't help being overwhelmed by the dizzying, wonderful feeling of being alive and not being alone. She thinks of the Doctor's stubborn kindness and his unwillingness to give up on her, and feels a surge of gratitude, mixed with some other emotion she can't identify. A tiny smile turns up her lips as she recalls his unorthodox method to force her to move. And his words to her are forever engraved on her memory. "I'm not leaving you, never."
To her embarrassment she finds her vision blurring with tears. Not now, Amy! Now of all times you need your wits about you.
River Song, the Doctor, and the remaining soldiers have finally caught up to her. She can't let them see her crying, so she quickly reaches up to blot her eyes with the palm of her hand, rubbing at the edge of her cornea because it's oddly itchy. Something brushes past her fingers, and she stares at her hand for a moment. Tentatively she rubs the edge of her eye with her fingers again, keeping her eye half-open. She freezes as dark sand trickles through her fingers from out of nowhere. Oh my God. She stares at her hand; it still twinges from the bite the Doctor gave her, so she knows it isn't stone. But something isn't right.
She'd almost forgotten that the Angel was still inside her head.
The wave of panic that results from that thought seems to open the floodgates for the Angel to take control. Amy's vision begins to flicker in and out, flashing between the normal forest undergrowth and the vacant eyes of a Weeping Angel boring into her skull. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. She sways, trying to regain control of her senses. It's hard to breathe, as if her lungs themselves are turning to stone.
Her inner turmoil must show on her face, because suddenly the Doctor and River are on either side of her, supporting her. "Amy, what is it?" asks River urgently.
"It's the Angel," says the Doctor grimly. "She looked into its eyes." River's eyes widen and she glances back at Amy with renewed worry.
"Amy sweetie, you have to stay calm," she says, to no avail. Amy is beginning to hyperventilate. She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again and again, tears spilling out unheeded, but she can't free her mind of the Angel's image. Strangled sobs issue from her mouth despite her best attempts to quiet them. The Doctor moves to face her without letting go of her and peers into her eyes. "Amy, look at me. Look at me."
"Doctor, what's happening to me?" she chokes out, voice breaking.
"Amy, you have to calm down," he says emphatically. "The more you panic the more control the Angel has over your mind."
"I--I can't--I can't," she chokes out, shaking her head furiously. "It's in my head, I can't get it out, the eyes, I can't--"
"Amelia!" He steps close to her and takes her face in both hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are wet; he brushes the tears away gently with his fingers. He can already see the reflection of the Angel in her eyes, but of course he doesn't tell her that. "Keep looking at me. Concentrate on listening to what I'm saying. Can you do that?"
She nods fractionally and gives a small sound of assent, but the panic is still there, only temporarily pushed aside. The Angel is still there. She puts all her energy into her senses, feeling the Doctor's hands holding her, looking into his eyes (filled with worry, not blank like the Angels' eyes, thank God not like them), and hearing the urgent concern in his voice.
"Here, lie down first," offers River, noting that Amy's breathing has become a bit more normal. She guides Amy to a low slab of rock. Amy collapses onto it, pillowing her head on her arm, feeling sick and terrified. She closes her eyes and cringes at the still-flickering images behind her eyelids. Immediately she feels the Doctor's hand on her head, steadying her. The flickering subsides as he strokes her hair.
"All right, Amy, you remember how I said not to blink, no matter what?"
"Y-yes," she replies shakily, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"Now the opposite applies. I think." At that last amendment, River shoots him a warning look. She tells him without words not to alarm Amy by alerting her to his uncertainty. He corrects himself accordingly. "I mean, it definitely does. Do NOT open your eyes." He speaks his next words slowly and emphatically. "The Angel is trying to take over your mind completely. Keeping your eyes closed will slow the process. If you open your eyes for more than a second, you will die."
There is a pause before she's able to respond to that coherently. "All right. Keeping them closed is easier anyway," she says with a weak attempt at nonchalance. Suddenly, however, a spasm shakes her entire body. She cries out. Her eyes fly open for a split second, staring blankly in a way that's frighteningly reminiscent of the Angels, especially since one is reflected in the dark of her dilated pupils. She squeezes them shut again as she remembers and recovers.
"It's coming, Doctor, I can feel it," she whimpers, curling up into herself. The Doctor flinches, hating to see her in pain like this. In pain because of him. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it lightly.
"Again, this is usually when you have a brilliant plan," River whispers to the Doctor, echoing her words from before.
He tears his gaze away from Amy. "Just wait, wait, wait. I need...to think." He jumps to his feet, eyes darting from Amy to the clearing to the soldiers around them. "Would it work?" he muses under his breath. "Well, it's the only way." He whirls back to face River. "Stay with her." He bounds off to speak to one of the soldiers.
Amy is caught up in the struggle inside her head, and her focus falters as she hears him leaving. She feels his absence as a tangible loss, an empty space. She berates herself internally; since when has she been so dependent on someone? Since when did she get so clingy? Focus! The Angel takes advantage of her distraction, and eerie blank eyes immediately engulf her mind's eye. For a moment she thinks she almost sees it smiling. She tries to force it away, but she's lost her concentration. Soon, she realizes with terrifying clarity, it will win. She'll die, or be thrown back into the past and already be dead, or be whatever the Angels want her to be. All of it will have been for nothing, and she'll be alone. The futility of it brings tears slipping out of her closed eyes.
Suddenly the Doctor's hands are around hers again, pressing something cool and rectangular into her grasp. A walkie-talkie? "Amy, I have to find the Angels directly so that we can fight them. I can't help you if I stay here. Use this if you need me, and keep fighting the Angel off. Think of something you care about, something you have strong emotion for, and focus on it. It'll help."
She nods, trying to keep her voice level, but it cracks anyway. "I just wish I could do something."
"By keeping your head and staying you, Amy Pond, you're doing more than enough." He leans over and brushes her forehead with his lips. The chaste kiss sends a wave of warmth coursing through her body. "Just give me five minutes and I'll be back."
Amy gives a ghost of a smile. "You shouldn't make promises you won't keep."
He winces, then speaks earnestly. "You know that I'd never leave you, Amy. No matter how long it takes, I will come back for you."
"Just make sure it's not twelve years this time."
"It won't be. You've waited for me long enough." And with those words, he's gone. Amy sighs into the sudden silence.
"He's telling the truth, you know," says River. "He always comes back eventually."
"I know," Amy responds quietly. "It may take him more than a decade, but he always comes back." She pauses. "I'll brain him with a cricket bat if he's late again."
River laughs. Amy smiles, too, given a respite. In another moment, however she tenses and the smile falls from her face as her attention is again drawn internally; the Angel is renewing its efforts to yank her out of time and into death. It's an unpleasant, painful pulling sensation in her gut. The backs of her eyelids again flash with the alien gaze that bores mercilessly into her thoughts like a drill, violating the privacy of her mind. She takes a sharp, deep breath and remembers the Doctor's words. Think about something she has strong emotions about.
Unbidden, his face comes to mind. The feeling when he held her hand and kissed her forehead. His smile, his warm eyes, his dedication to humanity, his eccentricity, and his kindness. And the promises he only ever half keeps. But at least he keeps the important half. He'll be back. He won't leave her.
And that thought keeps her going, second by second, minute by minute, as the Angel pulls her down fighting through the dark.
TO BE CONTINUED
(continued in 5x05, that is, not by me ;)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Eleven/Amy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,054
Warnings: spoilers up to and including 5x04 and the 5x05 promo
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, show's not mine, all belongs to the good BBC, no suing necessary. =)
Summary: Based loosely on the preview for 5x05 Flesh and Stone. With the Doctor's help, Amy resists the Weeping Angel in her head.
Author's Notes: After I watched 5x04 I saw the preview for 5x05 and couldn't wait, so this spilled out in a burst of inspiration (while I was trying to do my biology lab report ;P). Please forgive the inaccuracies; I really don't know how the Angels work their mind-control thingy so I fudged the details there. ;) Enjoy! Oh, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, since I haven't been writing fanfic for a year or two and I'm quite rusty.^^
Amy struggles to catch her breath, leaning her hands on her knees as she waits for the others to catch up. The surrounding forest echoes with the footfalls of the survivors, running just as hard as she had been to escape the Angels' trap. Her stomach is roiling with fear and nausea and her breathing comes in sharp gasps as her heart pounds heavily along in time. She's exhausted, physically and mentally. Her head spins with thoughts of the past ten minutes as the adrenaline pumps through her veins. Everything is happening so fast. She can hardly believe she's still alive.
She'd been ready to die back there, in the cave. In her head she'd said goodbye to everyone: the Doctor, Rory, her aunt, River, even Jeff. She'd prepared herself so carefully to be left behind, be a sacrifice for the good of everyone. She was used to being left behind anyway. It would have been bitterly fitting, she thought, for Amelia Pond to die as alone as she had began, in a dark fairytale that had come full circle.
But the Doctor hadn't left her. He had stayed, even as the terrifying stone visages of the Angels slipped closer with every flicker of the light. Her mind flashes back to the moment, to his head leaning against hers and his breath warm against her ear as he murmured fiercely, "Amy Pond, you are magnificent." At the time she'd interpreted as a farewell, and had savored the words, imprinting the wonderful feeling of his praise in her mind as her last memory. She'd refused to let herself feel betrayed, even the slightest bit, because she'd known what she was doing and she would NOT let those people, including the Doctor, die just because she hadn't been fast enough or smart enough to avoid the Angel's gaze.
All the same, she couldn't help feeling the familiar sinking sensation of abandonment. It was the same terrible realization of loss that had stunned and scarred her fourteen years ago. Suddenly she'd been a little girl again. In her mind she was reduced to seven-year-old Amelia again, staring at the sky out her bedroom window after her aunt had dragged her kicking and screaming from her waiting position in the backyard, tears prickling the back of her eyes because maybe the psychiatrists had been right all along.
Even with those memories flooding her mind, even with her heart sinking and her eyes damp, she'd known what she had to do. She'd steeled herself and managed to tell the Doctor that she understood. She could handle it now; she wasn't seven anymore. He had to leave her.
But he hadn't gone. Even now, as Amy gasps for breath and knows that it isn't over with the Angels (not nearly over), and understands that she doesn't have the time or luxury for emotional introspection, she can't help being overwhelmed by the dizzying, wonderful feeling of being alive and not being alone. She thinks of the Doctor's stubborn kindness and his unwillingness to give up on her, and feels a surge of gratitude, mixed with some other emotion she can't identify. A tiny smile turns up her lips as she recalls his unorthodox method to force her to move. And his words to her are forever engraved on her memory. "I'm not leaving you, never."
To her embarrassment she finds her vision blurring with tears. Not now, Amy! Now of all times you need your wits about you.
River Song, the Doctor, and the remaining soldiers have finally caught up to her. She can't let them see her crying, so she quickly reaches up to blot her eyes with the palm of her hand, rubbing at the edge of her cornea because it's oddly itchy. Something brushes past her fingers, and she stares at her hand for a moment. Tentatively she rubs the edge of her eye with her fingers again, keeping her eye half-open. She freezes as dark sand trickles through her fingers from out of nowhere. Oh my God. She stares at her hand; it still twinges from the bite the Doctor gave her, so she knows it isn't stone. But something isn't right.
She'd almost forgotten that the Angel was still inside her head.
The wave of panic that results from that thought seems to open the floodgates for the Angel to take control. Amy's vision begins to flicker in and out, flashing between the normal forest undergrowth and the vacant eyes of a Weeping Angel boring into her skull. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. She sways, trying to regain control of her senses. It's hard to breathe, as if her lungs themselves are turning to stone.
Her inner turmoil must show on her face, because suddenly the Doctor and River are on either side of her, supporting her. "Amy, what is it?" asks River urgently.
"It's the Angel," says the Doctor grimly. "She looked into its eyes." River's eyes widen and she glances back at Amy with renewed worry.
"Amy sweetie, you have to stay calm," she says, to no avail. Amy is beginning to hyperventilate. She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again and again, tears spilling out unheeded, but she can't free her mind of the Angel's image. Strangled sobs issue from her mouth despite her best attempts to quiet them. The Doctor moves to face her without letting go of her and peers into her eyes. "Amy, look at me. Look at me."
"Doctor, what's happening to me?" she chokes out, voice breaking.
"Amy, you have to calm down," he says emphatically. "The more you panic the more control the Angel has over your mind."
"I--I can't--I can't," she chokes out, shaking her head furiously. "It's in my head, I can't get it out, the eyes, I can't--"
"Amelia!" He steps close to her and takes her face in both hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are wet; he brushes the tears away gently with his fingers. He can already see the reflection of the Angel in her eyes, but of course he doesn't tell her that. "Keep looking at me. Concentrate on listening to what I'm saying. Can you do that?"
She nods fractionally and gives a small sound of assent, but the panic is still there, only temporarily pushed aside. The Angel is still there. She puts all her energy into her senses, feeling the Doctor's hands holding her, looking into his eyes (filled with worry, not blank like the Angels' eyes, thank God not like them), and hearing the urgent concern in his voice.
"Here, lie down first," offers River, noting that Amy's breathing has become a bit more normal. She guides Amy to a low slab of rock. Amy collapses onto it, pillowing her head on her arm, feeling sick and terrified. She closes her eyes and cringes at the still-flickering images behind her eyelids. Immediately she feels the Doctor's hand on her head, steadying her. The flickering subsides as he strokes her hair.
"All right, Amy, you remember how I said not to blink, no matter what?"
"Y-yes," she replies shakily, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"Now the opposite applies. I think." At that last amendment, River shoots him a warning look. She tells him without words not to alarm Amy by alerting her to his uncertainty. He corrects himself accordingly. "I mean, it definitely does. Do NOT open your eyes." He speaks his next words slowly and emphatically. "The Angel is trying to take over your mind completely. Keeping your eyes closed will slow the process. If you open your eyes for more than a second, you will die."
There is a pause before she's able to respond to that coherently. "All right. Keeping them closed is easier anyway," she says with a weak attempt at nonchalance. Suddenly, however, a spasm shakes her entire body. She cries out. Her eyes fly open for a split second, staring blankly in a way that's frighteningly reminiscent of the Angels, especially since one is reflected in the dark of her dilated pupils. She squeezes them shut again as she remembers and recovers.
"It's coming, Doctor, I can feel it," she whimpers, curling up into herself. The Doctor flinches, hating to see her in pain like this. In pain because of him. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it lightly.
"Again, this is usually when you have a brilliant plan," River whispers to the Doctor, echoing her words from before.
He tears his gaze away from Amy. "Just wait, wait, wait. I need...to think." He jumps to his feet, eyes darting from Amy to the clearing to the soldiers around them. "Would it work?" he muses under his breath. "Well, it's the only way." He whirls back to face River. "Stay with her." He bounds off to speak to one of the soldiers.
Amy is caught up in the struggle inside her head, and her focus falters as she hears him leaving. She feels his absence as a tangible loss, an empty space. She berates herself internally; since when has she been so dependent on someone? Since when did she get so clingy? Focus! The Angel takes advantage of her distraction, and eerie blank eyes immediately engulf her mind's eye. For a moment she thinks she almost sees it smiling. She tries to force it away, but she's lost her concentration. Soon, she realizes with terrifying clarity, it will win. She'll die, or be thrown back into the past and already be dead, or be whatever the Angels want her to be. All of it will have been for nothing, and she'll be alone. The futility of it brings tears slipping out of her closed eyes.
Suddenly the Doctor's hands are around hers again, pressing something cool and rectangular into her grasp. A walkie-talkie? "Amy, I have to find the Angels directly so that we can fight them. I can't help you if I stay here. Use this if you need me, and keep fighting the Angel off. Think of something you care about, something you have strong emotion for, and focus on it. It'll help."
She nods, trying to keep her voice level, but it cracks anyway. "I just wish I could do something."
"By keeping your head and staying you, Amy Pond, you're doing more than enough." He leans over and brushes her forehead with his lips. The chaste kiss sends a wave of warmth coursing through her body. "Just give me five minutes and I'll be back."
Amy gives a ghost of a smile. "You shouldn't make promises you won't keep."
He winces, then speaks earnestly. "You know that I'd never leave you, Amy. No matter how long it takes, I will come back for you."
"Just make sure it's not twelve years this time."
"It won't be. You've waited for me long enough." And with those words, he's gone. Amy sighs into the sudden silence.
"He's telling the truth, you know," says River. "He always comes back eventually."
"I know," Amy responds quietly. "It may take him more than a decade, but he always comes back." She pauses. "I'll brain him with a cricket bat if he's late again."
River laughs. Amy smiles, too, given a respite. In another moment, however she tenses and the smile falls from her face as her attention is again drawn internally; the Angel is renewing its efforts to yank her out of time and into death. It's an unpleasant, painful pulling sensation in her gut. The backs of her eyelids again flash with the alien gaze that bores mercilessly into her thoughts like a drill, violating the privacy of her mind. She takes a sharp, deep breath and remembers the Doctor's words. Think about something she has strong emotions about.
Unbidden, his face comes to mind. The feeling when he held her hand and kissed her forehead. His smile, his warm eyes, his dedication to humanity, his eccentricity, and his kindness. And the promises he only ever half keeps. But at least he keeps the important half. He'll be back. He won't leave her.
And that thought keeps her going, second by second, minute by minute, as the Angel pulls her down fighting through the dark.
TO BE CONTINUED
(continued in 5x05, that is, not by me ;)