FIC: Aimless (8/?)
Category: Fanfiction
Title: Aimless (8/?)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairing: Rory/Eleven, Amy, OMCs
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of slash, AU
Spoilers: Possible mentions of all early Series 5 episodes
Word Count: 2,179
Chapter Summary: High school, oh boy!
A/N: This update came much quicker than I expected! Still a bit on the short side, but I got to a good stopping point. We'll be getting into some of the harsher bullying in coming chapters (not this one), so if that kind of thing bugs you, you might want to skip those chapters. I'll include warnings. Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 7
Rory surfaces next on his first day of high school. He stands next to Amy with the building looming over them. He suddenly feels five years old all over again, standing in front of the elementary school and clutching his father’s hand. The only difference now is that Dad’s at work and it’s Amy whose hand he’s holding.
“Bigger than I expected,” he says nervously.
Amy rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a baby, Rory.” Despite her words, though, she squeezes his hand reassuringly and gives him a smile.
“Yeah, don’t be a baby, Ro-ry.” The hand that comes up to shove Rory to the side is a by-now familiar one. Rory winces as he stumbles over his own feet and knocks into Amy.
“Watch it, Riley,” Amy snaps, shooting a glare at Rory’s lifelong tormentor as he passes by.
“What?” Adam Riley spreads his hands wide in front of him, a cheeky grin on his face. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You did push a girl, Adam,” points out one of his posse members, someone whose name Rory can’t remember for the life of him.
Amy looks as confused at that statement as Rory feels. “He didn’t push me, though.”
The other kid smirks. “Exactly.”
Adam laughs - one of those powerful laughs where the head is thrown back and the shoulders shake, hands stuffed in pockets. “Good one, man,” he says with a shake of his head. He smirks at Rory as he and his posse head up the stairs to the main doors to the school. “See you later, girly.”
Rory keeps a tight grip on Amy’s hand to prevent her from running after them. “It’s not worth it,” he mumbles to her as they start their own ascent.
“I will teach him a lesson one of these days,” Amy swears, slipping her arm through his. “That jerk’s not gonna get away with this forever, Rory. I won’t let him keep doing this to you.”
Rory sighs. “Amy, really, don’t. I’d rather you not get in trouble today. Or, you know, at all.”
“Right, like that’s gonna happen.”
At least she’s being sarcastic again. That’s how he knows she’s not stuck on the Adam thing still - because instead of cursing, she’s just trying to poke fun at him. Which, honestly, he likes better than her threats of violence against Adam Riley. As much as he dislikes the guy, he doesn’t really want anything bad to happen to him. And he certainly doesn’t want Amy to be the one doing it, considering her track record with getting away with things.
“Just try, okay?” he begs, shooting her a pleading look with fully puppy dog eyes and little pout. “For me? Someone’s gotta protect me at lunch, right?”
Amy sighs dramatically. “Oh, all right.” She nods to a classroom up ahead of them. “That’s my homeroom.” She gives him a peck on the cheek and asks, “See you later?”
“Of course,” he promises, and then smiles as she walks away.
New school, he tells himself as he turns to start down the hall to his own homeroom. New teachers, new people. Well, some new people. Make today good - no, scratch that. Make the rest of this year good. Don’t mess this up for yourself. He takes a deep breath as he reaches the door to his classroom, then turns the handle and steps inside.
Unsurprisingly, making today good doesn’t come easy.
“What the hell happened to you?” Amy demands as she bursts into the boys’ bathroom after fourth period, just before lunch.
“Amy,” he hisses, turning away from his attempts at picking peaches out of his hair. “You can’t be in here!” Indeed, the two other boys in the bathroom at the moment are staring at Amy like they’ve never seen a girl in their lives, their eyes wide, their jaws hanging open a little.
Amy shoots them each a glare. “Get out,” she snaps, and they quickly finish washing their hands and scurry away. Once the door has swung shut behind them, Amy turns to look at Rory and crosses her arms over her chest. “What happened?” she asks again.
“Adam and I had a little discussion in the hallway on the way to lunch,” Rory mumbles. He turns back to the mirror and scowls. His hair, his clothes, his backpack; they’re all covered in food. He groans aloud - he’s never going to get all this out.
Amy comes up behind him and gently pushes his hands down from his hair. “Let me do this,” she says quietly. “Not like it’s the first time.”
He doesn’t protest, just stands there silently until she’s done the best she can with his hair. She looks mournfully at his shirt, which is wet and sticky with juice from the peaches. “I don’t know there’s much I can do with your clothes. You wanna run home and change? We’ve got fifth period together, I checked. I can cover for you.”
“No point in being late the very first day.” Rory picks regretfully at his shirt. He liked this shirt. “And I told you, I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
Amy rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna get in trouble when you’re the one sneaking off campus.”
“I’d ask if you wanna just skip the rest of the day,” he says dryly, “but I’m afraid you’d say yes, and then I wouldn’t be able to back out.”
She snorts. “Like I’d ever let you back out of an offer like that.” She smooths down his shirt over his shoulders. “You sure you don’t wanna go change?”
“Only three classes left,” he says with a shrug. “Not much point.”
“Maybe,” she says quietly. She meets his gaze in the mirror and gives him a small smile, which he returns.
To be honest, it could be worse, and he knows it. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it could. Sure, it’s a pain that Adam Riley won’t leave him alone, and yes, he’s damn tired of constantly being cornered out in hallways and having lunches thrown at him, but that’s all it is. That and a little name-calling. There are kids out there who’ve got it worse, so Rory’s not complaining. Especially because he knows that if he even sounded like he was complaining, Amy would have Adam Riley on his back with her hands around his throat before he could blink. So he’s keeping his mouth shut and dealing with it. It could be worse.
“Hungry?” Amy asks, and he nods enthusiastically, so she laughs and helps him get his backpack back on and leads the way out of the bathroom. They get a few weird looks from a group of kids standing by their lockers (probably because of the rumors and the names he’s spent the past few years being called), but Rory ignores them as Amy slips her arm through his again. It’s times like these, he thinks, that being Amy Pond’s best friend really pays off.
---
The Doctor comes back quiet and somber after a few more incidents like that. The virus has stayed away, and Rory’s tried to sleep, but no matter what he does, he keeps waking up with pounding headaches, and even worse, he’s still exhausted.
The Doctor sits down next to him, looking like he hasn’t slept in years, which, well, Rory doesn’t know that the Doctor even does sleep. He is an alien, after all, and Rory can’t say that he’s ever heard the Doctor say anything about catching a nap or getting some sleep. The point is, though, that the last time Rory saw someone look that tired was back before the Doctor came and scooped him into the TARDIS and they took off (the whole of time and space, where do you want to start?), back when he was working at the hospital and everything was as normal as it could get for him.
He supposes he probably doesn’t look much better.
They sit in silence for a while, the Doctor eventually slipping an arm around Rory’s shoulders and pulling him close. It should be comfortable, but it’s not. It worries him, this silence. The Doctor is a never-ending noise machine, and while most of the time Rory finds himself groaning and begging him to shut up, now is… different. The Doctor isn’t just quiet, he’s thinking. Most likely, thinking those kinds of thoughts that make other people stop dead in their tracks and stare in astonishment when spoken out loud.
“It gets worse, doesn’t it?” the Doctor asks bleakly.
Rory doesn’t even try to pretend. He’ll find out soon enough. “Yes.”
“A lot worse.”
“Yes.”
The Doctor sighs and drops his head onto Rory’s shoulder. “I probably should have known that.”
“Probably.” Rory tries for cheery, but just comes off sounding like he’s in pain.
They don’t say much more after that.
---
In the beginning of sophomore year, Adam Riley and his gang find a new way to torment Rory. Almost none of the high schoolers in this town have a car, including Rory, which makes it extremely easy for them to corner him on his way to school, peddling hard on his bike.
For the entire first semester and well into the second, the little group makes sure to corner him every day, grinning wickedly as they grip him, unsuspecting, by the shoulders and haul him down to the pavement, only to leave him with no money and a few bruises maybe a minute later. Amy’s taken to stealing ice from the cafeteria for him to press to his face, arms, wherever he happened to land that particular day.
On the morning of Amy’s sixteenth birthday in early March that year, Rory’s packing up his messenger bag and anxiously glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall when the honk of a car draws his attention away.
When he peers out through the window, there’s a bright red car sitting in the driveway.
With a frown, Rory pulls his bag over his shoulder and steps outside. Amy’s leaning against the side of the car, inspecting her nails with a frown. The sound of the front door closing behind him makes her look up, and she grins brilliantly. Stepping to the side, she gestures widely to the car with her arms and says, “Isn’t it great?”
“Is that a car?” Rory asks, eyes wide. He stumbles down the couple steps from his house to the sidewalk.
Amy snorts. “No, it’s a jet plane. What does it look like, Rory?”
“But…” Rory looks from the car to Amy. “What’s it doing here?”
“Well.” Amy draws out the word, still grinning. “Someone turned sixteen today and her aunt got her a car for her birthday, so now that someone is giving you a ride to school.”
“But why?” It may not be the most intelligent question he’s ever asked, but later, he’ll tell himself it was justified. He’s a little stunned right now.
“Well, for one, so you don’t get cornered by those assholes again.” Amy’s eyes soften, and her smile grows fonder. “And also because you’re my best friend.”
Rory’s crossing the space between them in less than a second and pulling Amy into a rough hug. She hugs him in return, her arms tight across his back. He can feel her smile where it presses into his shoulder through his shirt. “Happy birthday,” he mumbles against the side of her head. She laughs and pulls back.
“Come on, slowpoke, get in the car. We’ve gotta get to school. I’d hate to be late.” She shoots him a wink and slides around to the other side of the car and gets in. Rory’s suddenly extremely nervous. Amy’s not exactly known for her superb driving skills.
She leans over toward the passenger window, raising an eyebrow. “You getting in?”
“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?” Rory asks skeptically. “I’d really like to avoid any sort of serious injury today.”
Amy snorts. “Oh, please. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“The last time anyone let you drive, you nearly took out Mrs. Hudson’s mailbox.”
“That was one time!” Amy scowls at him. “Just get in the car. Unless you’d rather walk to school.”
Okay, he can’t argue with that one. Still, it doesn’t stop him from grumbling to himself as he slips into the passenger seat. He pointedly buckles his seatbelt with a glare at Amy, and she rolls her eyes and pulls out of the driveway. Rory clings to the door for support.
“Don’t be a wimp, Rory,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him.
“Eyes on the road!”
“I am an excellent driver, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sniffs and wildly takes the corner. Rory clenches his eyes shut.
“Just don’t kill us. I really don’t care as long as you don’t kill us.”
“Baby,” Amy grumbles, but she does slow down a bit. She even stops at all the stop signs.
They’re nearly to school when she asks, “So what’d you get me?”
Chapter 9
Title: Aimless (8/?)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairing: Rory/Eleven, Amy, OMCs
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of slash, AU
Spoilers: Possible mentions of all early Series 5 episodes
Word Count: 2,179
Chapter Summary: High school, oh boy!
A/N: This update came much quicker than I expected! Still a bit on the short side, but I got to a good stopping point. We'll be getting into some of the harsher bullying in coming chapters (not this one), so if that kind of thing bugs you, you might want to skip those chapters. I'll include warnings. Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 7
Rory surfaces next on his first day of high school. He stands next to Amy with the building looming over them. He suddenly feels five years old all over again, standing in front of the elementary school and clutching his father’s hand. The only difference now is that Dad’s at work and it’s Amy whose hand he’s holding.
“Bigger than I expected,” he says nervously.
Amy rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a baby, Rory.” Despite her words, though, she squeezes his hand reassuringly and gives him a smile.
“Yeah, don’t be a baby, Ro-ry.” The hand that comes up to shove Rory to the side is a by-now familiar one. Rory winces as he stumbles over his own feet and knocks into Amy.
“Watch it, Riley,” Amy snaps, shooting a glare at Rory’s lifelong tormentor as he passes by.
“What?” Adam Riley spreads his hands wide in front of him, a cheeky grin on his face. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You did push a girl, Adam,” points out one of his posse members, someone whose name Rory can’t remember for the life of him.
Amy looks as confused at that statement as Rory feels. “He didn’t push me, though.”
The other kid smirks. “Exactly.”
Adam laughs - one of those powerful laughs where the head is thrown back and the shoulders shake, hands stuffed in pockets. “Good one, man,” he says with a shake of his head. He smirks at Rory as he and his posse head up the stairs to the main doors to the school. “See you later, girly.”
Rory keeps a tight grip on Amy’s hand to prevent her from running after them. “It’s not worth it,” he mumbles to her as they start their own ascent.
“I will teach him a lesson one of these days,” Amy swears, slipping her arm through his. “That jerk’s not gonna get away with this forever, Rory. I won’t let him keep doing this to you.”
Rory sighs. “Amy, really, don’t. I’d rather you not get in trouble today. Or, you know, at all.”
“Right, like that’s gonna happen.”
At least she’s being sarcastic again. That’s how he knows she’s not stuck on the Adam thing still - because instead of cursing, she’s just trying to poke fun at him. Which, honestly, he likes better than her threats of violence against Adam Riley. As much as he dislikes the guy, he doesn’t really want anything bad to happen to him. And he certainly doesn’t want Amy to be the one doing it, considering her track record with getting away with things.
“Just try, okay?” he begs, shooting her a pleading look with fully puppy dog eyes and little pout. “For me? Someone’s gotta protect me at lunch, right?”
Amy sighs dramatically. “Oh, all right.” She nods to a classroom up ahead of them. “That’s my homeroom.” She gives him a peck on the cheek and asks, “See you later?”
“Of course,” he promises, and then smiles as she walks away.
New school, he tells himself as he turns to start down the hall to his own homeroom. New teachers, new people. Well, some new people. Make today good - no, scratch that. Make the rest of this year good. Don’t mess this up for yourself. He takes a deep breath as he reaches the door to his classroom, then turns the handle and steps inside.
Unsurprisingly, making today good doesn’t come easy.
“What the hell happened to you?” Amy demands as she bursts into the boys’ bathroom after fourth period, just before lunch.
“Amy,” he hisses, turning away from his attempts at picking peaches out of his hair. “You can’t be in here!” Indeed, the two other boys in the bathroom at the moment are staring at Amy like they’ve never seen a girl in their lives, their eyes wide, their jaws hanging open a little.
Amy shoots them each a glare. “Get out,” she snaps, and they quickly finish washing their hands and scurry away. Once the door has swung shut behind them, Amy turns to look at Rory and crosses her arms over her chest. “What happened?” she asks again.
“Adam and I had a little discussion in the hallway on the way to lunch,” Rory mumbles. He turns back to the mirror and scowls. His hair, his clothes, his backpack; they’re all covered in food. He groans aloud - he’s never going to get all this out.
Amy comes up behind him and gently pushes his hands down from his hair. “Let me do this,” she says quietly. “Not like it’s the first time.”
He doesn’t protest, just stands there silently until she’s done the best she can with his hair. She looks mournfully at his shirt, which is wet and sticky with juice from the peaches. “I don’t know there’s much I can do with your clothes. You wanna run home and change? We’ve got fifth period together, I checked. I can cover for you.”
“No point in being late the very first day.” Rory picks regretfully at his shirt. He liked this shirt. “And I told you, I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
Amy rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna get in trouble when you’re the one sneaking off campus.”
“I’d ask if you wanna just skip the rest of the day,” he says dryly, “but I’m afraid you’d say yes, and then I wouldn’t be able to back out.”
She snorts. “Like I’d ever let you back out of an offer like that.” She smooths down his shirt over his shoulders. “You sure you don’t wanna go change?”
“Only three classes left,” he says with a shrug. “Not much point.”
“Maybe,” she says quietly. She meets his gaze in the mirror and gives him a small smile, which he returns.
To be honest, it could be worse, and he knows it. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it could. Sure, it’s a pain that Adam Riley won’t leave him alone, and yes, he’s damn tired of constantly being cornered out in hallways and having lunches thrown at him, but that’s all it is. That and a little name-calling. There are kids out there who’ve got it worse, so Rory’s not complaining. Especially because he knows that if he even sounded like he was complaining, Amy would have Adam Riley on his back with her hands around his throat before he could blink. So he’s keeping his mouth shut and dealing with it. It could be worse.
“Hungry?” Amy asks, and he nods enthusiastically, so she laughs and helps him get his backpack back on and leads the way out of the bathroom. They get a few weird looks from a group of kids standing by their lockers (probably because of the rumors and the names he’s spent the past few years being called), but Rory ignores them as Amy slips her arm through his again. It’s times like these, he thinks, that being Amy Pond’s best friend really pays off.
---
The Doctor comes back quiet and somber after a few more incidents like that. The virus has stayed away, and Rory’s tried to sleep, but no matter what he does, he keeps waking up with pounding headaches, and even worse, he’s still exhausted.
The Doctor sits down next to him, looking like he hasn’t slept in years, which, well, Rory doesn’t know that the Doctor even does sleep. He is an alien, after all, and Rory can’t say that he’s ever heard the Doctor say anything about catching a nap or getting some sleep. The point is, though, that the last time Rory saw someone look that tired was back before the Doctor came and scooped him into the TARDIS and they took off (the whole of time and space, where do you want to start?), back when he was working at the hospital and everything was as normal as it could get for him.
He supposes he probably doesn’t look much better.
They sit in silence for a while, the Doctor eventually slipping an arm around Rory’s shoulders and pulling him close. It should be comfortable, but it’s not. It worries him, this silence. The Doctor is a never-ending noise machine, and while most of the time Rory finds himself groaning and begging him to shut up, now is… different. The Doctor isn’t just quiet, he’s thinking. Most likely, thinking those kinds of thoughts that make other people stop dead in their tracks and stare in astonishment when spoken out loud.
“It gets worse, doesn’t it?” the Doctor asks bleakly.
Rory doesn’t even try to pretend. He’ll find out soon enough. “Yes.”
“A lot worse.”
“Yes.”
The Doctor sighs and drops his head onto Rory’s shoulder. “I probably should have known that.”
“Probably.” Rory tries for cheery, but just comes off sounding like he’s in pain.
They don’t say much more after that.
---
In the beginning of sophomore year, Adam Riley and his gang find a new way to torment Rory. Almost none of the high schoolers in this town have a car, including Rory, which makes it extremely easy for them to corner him on his way to school, peddling hard on his bike.
For the entire first semester and well into the second, the little group makes sure to corner him every day, grinning wickedly as they grip him, unsuspecting, by the shoulders and haul him down to the pavement, only to leave him with no money and a few bruises maybe a minute later. Amy’s taken to stealing ice from the cafeteria for him to press to his face, arms, wherever he happened to land that particular day.
On the morning of Amy’s sixteenth birthday in early March that year, Rory’s packing up his messenger bag and anxiously glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall when the honk of a car draws his attention away.
When he peers out through the window, there’s a bright red car sitting in the driveway.
With a frown, Rory pulls his bag over his shoulder and steps outside. Amy’s leaning against the side of the car, inspecting her nails with a frown. The sound of the front door closing behind him makes her look up, and she grins brilliantly. Stepping to the side, she gestures widely to the car with her arms and says, “Isn’t it great?”
“Is that a car?” Rory asks, eyes wide. He stumbles down the couple steps from his house to the sidewalk.
Amy snorts. “No, it’s a jet plane. What does it look like, Rory?”
“But…” Rory looks from the car to Amy. “What’s it doing here?”
“Well.” Amy draws out the word, still grinning. “Someone turned sixteen today and her aunt got her a car for her birthday, so now that someone is giving you a ride to school.”
“But why?” It may not be the most intelligent question he’s ever asked, but later, he’ll tell himself it was justified. He’s a little stunned right now.
“Well, for one, so you don’t get cornered by those assholes again.” Amy’s eyes soften, and her smile grows fonder. “And also because you’re my best friend.”
Rory’s crossing the space between them in less than a second and pulling Amy into a rough hug. She hugs him in return, her arms tight across his back. He can feel her smile where it presses into his shoulder through his shirt. “Happy birthday,” he mumbles against the side of her head. She laughs and pulls back.
“Come on, slowpoke, get in the car. We’ve gotta get to school. I’d hate to be late.” She shoots him a wink and slides around to the other side of the car and gets in. Rory’s suddenly extremely nervous. Amy’s not exactly known for her superb driving skills.
She leans over toward the passenger window, raising an eyebrow. “You getting in?”
“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?” Rory asks skeptically. “I’d really like to avoid any sort of serious injury today.”
Amy snorts. “Oh, please. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“The last time anyone let you drive, you nearly took out Mrs. Hudson’s mailbox.”
“That was one time!” Amy scowls at him. “Just get in the car. Unless you’d rather walk to school.”
Okay, he can’t argue with that one. Still, it doesn’t stop him from grumbling to himself as he slips into the passenger seat. He pointedly buckles his seatbelt with a glare at Amy, and she rolls her eyes and pulls out of the driveway. Rory clings to the door for support.
“Don’t be a wimp, Rory,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him.
“Eyes on the road!”
“I am an excellent driver, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sniffs and wildly takes the corner. Rory clenches his eyes shut.
“Just don’t kill us. I really don’t care as long as you don’t kill us.”
“Baby,” Amy grumbles, but she does slow down a bit. She even stops at all the stop signs.
They’re nearly to school when she asks, “So what’d you get me?”
Chapter 9