Fic: Girl In The Mirror 'Verse, Chapter 10: Amelia
Title: Girl In The Mirror ‘Verse, Chapter 10: Amelia
Author: psyfi_geekgirl
BetaBabe: akkajemo
Characters/Pairings: Twelve, Amy/Rory, Amelia
Rating: PG-13
Excerpt: She didn’t know when she was going to ever get used to this whole idea of being a woman-didn’t know if she wanted to.
Word count: 6,367
Disclaimer: Until she’s Jossed, Twelve is mine-but of course based entirely on stuff that ain’t mine… All hail Auntie Beeb!
A/N: Written before s6, so it may go a bit AU
WARNING: Character illness. I put this up because I understand that for some on my F’list, this may be difficult reading
Comments = ♥
I know you’re out there…
TAKE NOTE: I also do not give anyone permission to post this in whole or in parts anywhere else! To do so would be very dishonest and terminally uncool and your actions would kill kittens, make puppy dogs cry and send the Reapers to eat your thieving flesh...
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
The Doctor threw the parking break and listened to the materialization sequence wind down. She double-checked the date-April 9, 2026-a Thursday. She looked at the piece of paper in her hand again, the note she’d jotted down during her phone conversation with Rory. He’d given her this date when he’d called earlier. She read the date again and triple checked her coordinates. Yep, she was right.
“Don’t be late,” he’d said. “Amy needs you,” he’d said.
But he hadn’t told her why.
Funny, he hadn’t said a thing when the Doctor mentioned she happened to be a woman now, but he’d sounded kind of preoccupied. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
The Doctor wasn’t exactly sure why she cared so much-why she hoped it wouldn’t be such a big deal-except she did. She recoiled inwardly at the expressions of shock and dismay, or worse yet, ribald teasing that she would get from the Ponds.
Except… ah, no. The rejection. It was the rejection she feared more than the teasing.
And then there would be the hesitation, this distrustful anticipation once they saw her soft, feminine body with its delicate features: They’d doubt her.
It was ok. She doubted herself.
Jack had told her she was too busy projecting all of her own insecurities onto everyone else to really notice that people were only properly surprised and not (as she suspected) horrified and dismayed. And the fact that she had left Torchwood after five boring days of cataloguing scavenged alien artifacts and wandered aimlessly around the Vortex for another two had nothing to do with some stupid argument they may or may not have had about all this. She wanted to go sightseeing-and as usual-nobody wanted to come with her, cos she was obviously some sort of freak now!
Sulking, she jammed her hip against the console and yelped in pain. After jumping away, she brought her hand to her back and felt River’s gun. It had dug painfully into her. She’d forgotten the bloody thing was there. Yanking it out of her waistband, she stared at it, hating herself for needing it.
She tossed it in a cranny in the console and sighed loudly. She didn’t know when she was going to ever get used to this whole idea of being a woman-didn’t know if she wanted to.
She yanked on her hair in frustration with Jack, Torchwood and herself. Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was already imagining her abandonment by the Ponds-and she hadn’t even left her ship yet...
Still, there was only one thing for it: She would have to live through the experience of their reaction. Staying in the TARDIS all day after being asked to be prompt was not a viable option-and was certain to cause more trouble than it was worth, especially where Amy was concerned…
She sighed in resignation. Then, running a nervous hand through her curly brown hair and throwing on her old jacket, she pushed the doors open and walked outside.
It surprised her that after so many years the house looked exactly as it did on Fish Custard Night, so very long ago. True, the hedge and the trees were taller-but the swing set was still there, and if you squinted, it almost looked untouched by time.
She sighed with relief. At least she’d missed the shed this time…
The sound of someone nearby clearing their throat startled her.
“WAA-HAA!” The Doctor hollered in fright, spinning around.
She didn’t see anyone. Weird…
Was she hearing things now in addition to the headaches?
“Ah-hem,” came the sound again.
“Hello?” whispered the Doctor.
“Hello!” replied a small, squeaky voice. “I’m down here.”
“OH!” gasped the Doctor, looking down to see a small, strawberry blonde girl in a red and white polka dot housedress and red wellies. “Hello!” she grinned down at the child.
“You said that,” said the girl.
“Did I? Oh yes, I did! Yes, yes-hello!”
The girl giggled. “You’re the Doctor, aren’t you?”
The Doctor squinted at her, taking in the freckles, the ginger hair, the green eyes… Oh no… “What’s your name?” the Doctor asked, cautiously.
“I’m Amelia,” answered the girl.
“Oh, no no no no. No!” muttered the Doctor angrily. “I can’t have made a mistake! I triple checked it this time! No, you can’t be Amelia! It’s 2026!! Amelia grew up, snuck into a museum, traveled through time, got shot and saved the universe… got married! Bit a few people! You can’t be here, today-right now!”
Amelia cocked her head, watching the Doctor stomp around the yard and pull at her hair. She giggled as if the Doctor was a thoroughly enjoyable puppet show that was being enacted just for her. “You’re funny,” she said, her clear, bell-like voice stopping the Doctor’s rant midstream. “Daddy said you were funny!”
The Doctor stared down at Amelia. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Mummy and Daddy said that you were coming and that I should watch for you. You’re a doctor?”
The Doctor’s eyes sparkled with awe looking at Rory and Amy’s daughter. So, a daughter then, eh? Oh, those clever, wonderful… busy Ponds! So that’s what comes from all of that kissing and not breathing! The Doctor looked at Amelia Pond again. She looked so much like her mother it made her crave fried fish and pudding all over again. She nodded affectionately at the girl. “Yes. I’m the Doctor.”
“Have you come to help my mummy? She needs a doctor.”
******
The Doctor bolted through the front door and rushed through the house, yelling. “Rory? Rory! RORY!” She was about to go bounding up the stairs, two at a time, when she felt a hand on her back.
“Doctor! Doctor, it’s me! I’m here-Blimey!” gasped Rory, “You are-uh-really a woman now!” he exclaimed once the Doctor faced him. “Sorry, ahhh… River told me,” (he lied). “Well, you’re here.” He nodded at her as if he were talking to a hysterical child. “And you’re right on time. Thanks for that, then.”
The Doctor looked at the grey in Rory’s hair and the fine wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. About fourteen years had passed since the last time she’d seen him, but his eyes looked so much older than that. It was clear to her that a lot had happened since the last time they’d seen each other, and not all of it had been good. Still, it was good to see him.
“Rory, what’s wrong with Amy?”
“Doctor, I think you had better come downstairs for a minute… Please,” he stressed when the Doctor wouldn’t shift. And it was only that hint of the desperation in his voice that made the Doctor follow him into the sitting room and take tea and biscuits with him like a regular person with nothing better to do, despite the warnings in her hearts.
******
“…In the end we decided to move back into this place,” finished Rory as he handed the Doctor the plate of chocolate Hobnobs. She took her sixth biscuit.
“So, you just traded houses with your in-laws?” asked the Doctor, finding it almost unbearable to wade through the small talk to wait to be told about what was really going on.
“Yeah. Well, Upper Leadworth was never quite our scene and in the end we needed more room than we had in the cottage with Amelia and then with everything we thought it best if we moved closer to the hospit-“
“You moved closer to the hospital? Why?”
Rory pushed his half eaten biscuit around on his saucer. “Work,” he blurted. “So I could be closer to work. Y’know-go to work, nip home for a quick bite, help little Amelia with homework and go back to work.”
“Homework?” said the Doctor, incredulously. “She’s what? Six? Have much homework does she?”
“She’s eight, Doctor-and you’d be surprised. Had to make a diorama for school on the solar system. I tell you-I was up all night making that thing!”
Despite her suspicions, the Doctor chuckled, “Heh, an’ I bet you were the only one to get it right!”
“Damn right I was!”
“Someday they’ll find Celo, hiding out there past Neptune.”
Rory scratched his jaw, thoughtfully. “Oh yeah? Will they do it in the next month or so, so that Amelia can get a better grade on her diorama?”
“’Fraid not, my friend.”
“Oh well. At least I know it’s accurate,” and he chuckled into his tea. “Even if my daughter hates me now for getting her a B on her school project… C’est la vie! So…”
There was an awkward pause.
“Do you like being a girl then?” he asked, suddenly and completely off topic.
“Not bad… I suppose…”
“Naw. You lie,” he challenged. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“Complete rubbish,” she admitted sourly. “How’d you know about that, then? Have you seen me already?”
“Ahhhh… No,” he muttered, fretfully fingering his teacup. “May have mentioned it earlier-River told us.”
“You’ve seen River?”
“Yes.”
“Recently?”
“Yes. She… Um… told us so it wouldn’t be a shock. You actually just missed her,” he gestured to the mostly empty teacup and saucer on the coffee table in front of them.
The Doctor was incredulous. “She’s just been here?” she said, her voice squeaking, peering into the cup, noticing the mauve lipstick smudged along the rim. Whatever was going on, the Doctor thought, River had already been here…
“Yep. And she predicted you’d be cross with her for not staying, but she said she had to go to meet you.”
“Yeah, figures. That’s the same old line she seems to give me now. So she couldn’t stay?”
“No, but she said you’d understand la-“
“Yeah, right. ‘Later,’” the Doctor finished for Rory. “Spoilers and all that,” she shook her head and waved a hand in frustration.
“Don’t know how you two deal with all that, frankly,” admitted Rory.
“Rory my friend,” she said with a sigh, “neither do I…”
The clock in the kitchen ticked loudly, filling the silence in the room between them.
“So!” the Doctor said all too cheerily. “A daughter then?”
“Yep!” Rory nodded enthusiastically and chewed on his bottom lip.
They did not speak of the one that had been lost years before, but the memory of it passed like a ghost between them.
The Doctor shook her head, perhaps to clear her guilt. “And naming her Amelia, imagine that!”
“Yep,” repeated Rory. “Amy’s idea…”
“Seems very like her. Only Amy would name a daughter after herself,” the Doctor remarked, plucking a bit of biscuit off her jumper and absentmindedly tossing it across the room. “Except for Donna, maybe…” she added under her breath, and then abruptly looked away, studying the grandfather clock standing in the corner watching them-a silent sentry, ticking off time.
Rory grinned disconnectedly at her over his cup and nervously sipped his tea, mercifully oblivious to the Donna remark.
The Doctor watched him. “Rory, it’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, but you won’t let me upstairs and you look like you’ve swallowed a hamster. You’ve got a great big secret you’re afraid to tell me. Now, out with it. Let the Doctor help.”
“Ah. Right.” Rory breathed. “About that, Doctor…”
******
As it was, the Doctor never heard the exact name of whatever it was that had taken up its malevolent residence in Amy Pond-she didn’t know if it was ovarian cancer or T-cell leukemia, Meningitis, Guillain-Barre Syndrome, ALS-or anything else. But really, it hardly mattered in the end; all she was able to do was stare at the shell of the redheaded firecracker that was practically swallowed by the enormous-looking bed as she struggled to sit up in it. Machinery beeped plaintively and coldly around her. Her pasty skin was fragile and tight, and the multitude of blankets on the bed concealed a smaller, more shrunken frame beneath.
“Why didn’t you call me before!” gasped the Doctor in horror as she clutched at her hair and pressed her thumb to her forehead. “Rory, why did you wait so long?! We need to get her out of here! We need to get her into the TARDIS! There are places, Rory! Places we can go!! I can take her to New Earth-year five billion and twenty-three-weeell, twenty-two, I don’t fancy running into myself-that would just make a bad day worse! But Rory, they can cure anything!”
It took her a moment to see the faded, red-haired, husk of a woman in the bed slowly shaking her head ‘no.’
“BUT WHY???” implored the Doctor.
“This is how she wants it to be, Doctor,” said Rory, his jaw fixed and resolute. “And we don’t want to argue with you on this. Cos you know as well as I that if we ever did take you up on that offer to cure her that we’d never be able to come back here. They’d be all over her-the Girl Who Lived-we’d never have a home to go to. And we know that you of all people know what that would be like.”
The Doctor’s eyes grew dark and unfocused. Yes, she certainly did know what that was like...
She moved quietly over to Amy’s bedside. She wanted to scoop her up and hold her close-to protect her and drive out whatever had taken up its unholy domicile within her.
“Then what is the point of me, then?” Her forlorn eyes looked into Amy’s watery ones. “I save people. It’s what I do. I’m the Doctor. If I can’t protect the ones I love then-“
Amy stopped her by putting her hand on hers and whispering to her with effort, “Not this time, Doctor.”
The Doctor was beside herself, “But there’s no coming back from this one, Rory! I’m not gonna find her someday hanging out at Cleopatra’s palace, a head full of Egyptian things!”
“We know that. But by traveling with you, we were prepared for this. We’ve crammed a lot of living into a relatively small amount of time. That’s why we’re prepared to let go.”
The Doctor searched Amy’s eyes for some sign of apprehension-something, anything-that would tell her to keep pressing her to change her mind, but she saw nothing but resoluteness. “Amy Pond, the girl who never made any sense… Are you sure about this?”
“Doctor, you know Amy-when has she ever changed her mind about anything?”
“Fair point,” said the Doctor, surrendering. Her head still bent, she nodded at them that she understood, even if she hated it.
“But there is something that Amy wants you to do,” said Rory, serving as interpreter for his wife who seemed too weak to do much talking herself.
“Name it.”
******
The Doctor stood in the entry with her hands shoved in her jacket pockets, trying to pay very close attention to the instructions Rory was giving her and not coming up with grand schemes of getting Amy in the TARDIS and whisking her off to get cured...
“Now this isn’t forever, mind you-just one trip,” Rory added. “She’s heard all of our old stories and she wants more than anything to see it for herself.”
The Doctor nodded. “Right. Just one trip.”
“Now, you’ll need to bring her home once she gets sleepy, of course-but we’d like it if you could manage to bring her back two weeks from today-in the, uh… time… order whatsit of things.”
“’Time order whatsit.’ Check.” The Doctor pulled a face. “Blimey, did you not learn anything while you were with me?”
Rory ignored the dig, knowing it was only a common distraction tactic-this time attempting to distract from the Doctor’s obvious discomfort and helplessness over Amy’s condition. He couldn’t fault her; it only showed how much she cared. He continued to play the stern, concerned father, knowing it was good practice, “Two weeks, Doctor-yes?”
“Yes, yes. Two weeks. Take Amy-“
“Amelia, Doctor.”
“Yes, right-Amelia. Take Amelia for a quick trip in the TARDIS but come back in two weeks time non-linearly. Easy peasy.”
“Exactly,” said Rory, smiling, relieved that the Doctor had gotten it.
“Why?”
His smile fell. “Why what, Doctor?”
“Why do you want me to bring her back two weeks from now?”
“We just-uh-we…” Rory stammered, “We need some time alone to sort out some things and we would prefer her not to be exposed to some of the procedures Amy needs to go through. We figure two weeks will be enough--”
“You’re a horrible liar, Rory,” the Doctor interrupted. “Please tell me that she’ll still be alive by the time we come back.”
Rory nodded. “I promise.” He looked into the Doctor’s eyes. “We just want to shield Amelia from the worst of it.”
“I understand, however-“ started the Doctor, but the entrance of Amelia in her travel coat and trainers interrupted her.
“I’m ready!” she announced, clutching a spangly gold pocketbook.
“That’s quite a snazzy handbag you’ve got there,” flattered the Doctor, leaning down to inspect it.
“Thanks.”
“Whatcha got in there?” she asked, fingering the stitching.
“It’s full of important things.”
“Ohhhhh,” breathed the Doctor. She stood up and threw a knowing look at Rory. “’Important things,’ huh? I keep all of my important things in my pockets.”
“Yes, but Doctor your pockets are transdimensionally enlarged…” stated Rory.
“Oooh. How right you are-you were paying attention after all!”
“At least I passed my doctoring exams,” needled Rory, grateful for the lightness.
“Cheeky.” She turned back to Amelia. “Ready to disembark, milady?”
Bouncing on the balls of her feet she grinned up at the Doctor. “Aye aye, Captain!”
Grimacing, the Doctor corrected her, “Ah no, I’m not the Captain-if I were, your father would be flirting with the NSPCC-instead, why don’t you call me the Doctor, okay?”
“What kind of name is the Doctor?”
“What kind of name is Amelia?”
She giggled and that seemed like understanding enough. The Doctor gesticulated flamboyantly, “Your carriage awaits, milady,” and offered her arm to her.
Rory snickered, finding it odd that he should hear so much of the old Doctor in this one; for there she was, playfully teasing his daughter like she were some kind of knight in shining armor. Except this one would wear a different breastplate…
“Thank you kindly-er… Doctor,” Amelia replied, responding to her as if she were that selfsame knight, pushing back her long, fluffy, ginger hair with an attempt at a very early tween flounce, switched her Handbag of Important Things into her other hand and followed the Doctor outside towards the TARDIS.
Rory followed them.
“I promise you, Rory-she’ll be safe as houses.”
“Oh, I know, Doctor. We trust you.”
“I don’t know why you do,” she muttered under her breath while she turned and walked away from him.
Once they were across the front garden, the Doctor glanced behind at Rory and paused. She noticed the way he had followed them out. At first she thought it was just a clingy, worried dad thing, but the haunted, terrified, little boy look she saw flickering behind his eyes troubled her. He was scared. And part of him, she could tell, wished that he could come with them, too.
It broke her hearts, knowing from experience that there were hardly worse experiences than waiting helplessly for a loved one to succumb.
It was going to be a horrific two weeks for him.
She gestured to Amelia to stay where she was for a moment and took a step back towards Rory. He startled, but she gently clasped his arm in an effort to steady the torrent of emotions she guessed might be swirling inside of him. She spoke to him gently, “You go do what you need to and don’t worry about us. If you want us sooner, you just call. Okay?”
“Sure thing, Doctor…” She noticed he had difficulty meeting her gaze. “Have fun,” he finished. When he finally looked up, she saw the tightness behind his eyes.
The Doctor pressed her lips together in a tight line and nodded stiffly, turned on her heel and turned her attention to Amelia, in an effort to lighten the mood, “Now, Amelia-you are about to see wonders of which your young mind has simply never dreamed of before! Observe these doors-seemingly made of plain wood-but I assure you are stronger than the assembled hoards of Genghis Kahn themselves! And held within is something so amazing, you will scarcely believe your eyes!”
With a flourish she opened the door.
Amelia didn’t move. The Doctor looked down, expecting her to be dumbstruck.
She wasn’t.
She was just staring at her, with her face screwed up in some sort of expression… It was hard for the Doctor to place… Wasn’t fear… What was it?
…Pity…?
The tiny redhead put her hands on her hips and cocked her head in a perfect replica of a few redheads she’d known recently. “Yeah, I know. It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Me Mum and Dad already told me all about it.”
The Doctor heard her father guffaw as she gave her a curt nod. “Riiiiight. Ok. Well… so much for that then.” She glared at Rory and he shrugged. “You always did like to take that bit away from me,” she accused.
Rory found himself grinning in spite of himself. Amelia waved at him, and they disappeared into the TARDIS together.
Rory watched the machine blink out of existence and looked up at their bedroom window above, quietly steeling himself for the next two weeks…
******
Inside the TARDIS was madness.
The Doctor pushed past Amelia and ran up the three steps to the console, twisting, flipping and slapping buttons and gears, and sending them spinning off into the Vortex.
“See, right? Impressive-yes?”
Amelia stood with wide eyes, rooted to the spot, looking around her. She nodded slightly.
“Not gonna be sick or anything, are you?” asked the Doctor with a grimace. “Can’t stand that. Ruins all the fun. It’s the smell, really…”
Amelia set her lips together and glared at the Doctor, insulted that she’d even insinuate that she might be ill.
The Doctor grinned, seeing the indignant spark in her eyes. “Good! Now that you’re here there are only two rules in my house: One, don’t wander off. And two: Don’t ask stupid questions!” As Amelia reached the Doctor’s side she bent enthusiastically over to face her, “But you know what? That second rule is rather rubbish, cos how else can you learn? Right? So, scratch that! Only one rule-about the wandering off-and forget everything else! Ask all the questions you want, Amelia! Nothing is out of bounds! Nothing is stupid-in fact, there are no stupid questions! No such thing! And never trust anyone who ever tries to tell you that, either! Cos every question is wonderful and all questions bombard your growing brain with knowledge like sun to a flower to make it grow! So! How’s about it? You got a question for the Doctor?”
“Yeah…” Amelia twisted her knees together and squinted up at the Doctor, “Where’s the loo?”
“Ah…”
Once Amelia was sorted, she rejoined the Doctor, who was leaning with her hip against the console with her arms crossed in front of her, looking every bit the part of a conquering pirate on her captured ship.
“Your dad told me you had a project in school last week.”
“Yeah, the solar system,” she answered, looking glum.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t like the project?”
“No. S’not that. Daddy helped me but he messed it up.”
“Messed it up? How?”
“He added a planet that wasn’t supposed to be there. Got points off because of it.”
“Why would he add a planet that didn’t exist?”
She shrugged. “Dunno, but he did.”
“What if I told you that your Daddy was right?”
Amelia looked up at the Doctor in doubt. “Teacher said it was wrong.”
“What if I said that your teacher is a small minded idiot with rubbishly, outdated information?”
A smile passed across the little girl’s face and her eyes sparkled at the idea that a grownup was calling her teacher stupid.
A bell like a cooking timer went off. Amelia wondered if the Doctor had been baking something, but she hadn’t smelled anything like cookies or pudding or anything.
“Guess what? We’re here!” declared the Doctor, grabbing Amelia’s hand and spinning her towards the door.
When she threw the door open, the little girl gasped.
For there, outside the door, was the vast expanse of space, illuminated by countless upon countless blazing stars, swirling in a multicoulored haze of twinkling dust and gasses, with tons of chunky objects floating in a mass directly in front of them.
Amelia swallowed hard. She couldn’t believe it: She was looking at outer space! And it was right outside the door!
“What you are seeing is the Kuiper Belt-four billion miles away from planet Earth-and is…” the Doctor prompted.
“A bunch of icy asteroids and junk that float around together past Neptune...
The Doctor waggled her head back and forth, about to argue the finer points of her young companion’s analysis, but decided in the end that it was basic information enough for an eight-year old human. “Yes,” She waved her hand, “close enough!” She pointed to some of the larger objects, which looked like planets themselves. “Now, all the way out here we are very, very far away from the sun, so most of these bodies are-as you eloquently said-ice and junk… Weellll, specifically a mixture of light hydrocarbons, like methane, ammonia and ice-which is a lot like a comet actually, but-“
Amelia interrupted the Doctor’s lengthy educational patter with a simple clearing of her throat and a question: “What does this have to do with my teacher being wrong?”
“Ah-ha!” sang the Doctor, reminded of her train of thought again. “So, yes, right! Celo! Well, as you know there are many objects in the Kuiper Belt that have been called ‘dwarf planets,’ Pluto is among them… poor Pluto… but, the one object that hasn’t been found yet-and that once it is found will be known as Celo, is the one your dad added to your diorama!”
The Doctor finished her oral dissertation and was disappointed to receive a rather cold reaction from her audience.
The little girl remained unimpressed, looking at the Doctor as if she’d grown twelve extra eyes, giant whiskers, and a tail out of her forehead.
“I don’t see a planet,” she stated, unconvinced.
“That’s because you can’t see it! Nobody can, yet! Look, all the colours of the cosmos are seen within the known wavelengths of current Earth’s astronomy. But, if I do this-“ she ran and hit a switch on the console.
Suddenly a gigantic planet-sized mass appeared before them.
The shock of it sent Amelia wobbling backwards on her feet.
“What did you do?!”
“Awwww, I simply depressed the spectrometer magnification filter on the TARDIS! That’s Celo, by the way. Latin for ‘hide, cover, conceal, keep a secret!’ It’ll be the next official planet to be discovered, hiding out here in the Kuiper Belt, just past Neptune-a Transneptunian gem just waiting to be found!” She waggled her fingers at it in a cheery greeting.
Amelia was gobsmacked, “How did you find it?”
“Wellll, it’s been here for ages, really-and it’s already been found, from my point of view, actually.” She pointed to herself. “Time traveler, me-remember? Anyway,” she twirled around on one heel, “you lot will find it too, one day… Once scientists on Earth discover a little thing called the Low-Density Impervisium wavelength-then you’ll have all sorts of wondrous discoveries in store for you!”
“So,” breathed Amelia, “Daddy was right!”
“Oh yeah! Of course your Daddy was right!”
Amelia grinned a huge grin, her faith in her Daddy restored. The Doctor grinned with her, knowing all too well how important that relationship would be to her in a very short amount of time.
There was a pause before Amelia started speaking.
“Back when I was little,” she began, “in kindergarten, I had a hamster. His name was Elliot and he was the best pet ever! But he died last year. I cried every night, wanting Elliot to come back. But Mummy and Daddy told me that sometimes things die and we feel sad, but that our hearts feel better in time... Y’know what?”
“What?”
“They were right. I mean, I miss Elliot and I’ll always love him, but now I have Jasper and I love him, too. If I hadn’t lost Elliot I’d never have Jasper. It doesn’t always work like that, though. Last year, Poppy Williams died and we didn’t get another one. We still miss him, but I’m not as sad as I used to be.”
The little girl fiddled with something on her dress, and the Doctor silently braced herself for the question she knew was coming.
“Daddy said that Poppy went away because there were things broken inside him that couldn’t be fixed.”
“Right. Sometimes, no matter how much we love someone, we can’t help them.”
“There’s something broken inside Mummy, too.”
The Doctor looked into the little girl’s eyes. “Yes, there’s something broken inside your Mummy that can’t be fixed.”
“She’ll be going away, too?”
The Doctor nodded.
Amelia nodded too. She had known but hadn’t yet been told-and the Doctor said there had been no out of bounds or stupid questions. The Doctor was right, there had been questions she’d needed to ask; and her mind expanded a little bit in the knowing, even if it hurt her heart.
At least she knew now.
The Doctor came down the stairs towards Amelia holding a tray of sandwiches and milk. As she passed the console, she switched on the speakers to play classical music to enjoy while they ate.
Amelia had been content to sit and stare outside the door at the fantastical swirling of the colours of the cosmos whilst the Doctor had prepared lunch. They left the doors open as they gabbed and listened to the music.
“So. Mum and Dad used to travel with you.”
The Doctor nodded.
“I’ve seen the pictures. You were a man. You had funny hair.”
The Doctor looked towards the ceiling. “Well, yes-and a pretty cool bow tie-“
The little girl giggled. The Doctor frowned at her. “Oh, you’re a funny thing, aren’t you? Anyway, I just recently changed into this,” she indicated herself, “and I don’t really know what to do.”
The little girl’s laughter dissolved as she looked seriously at the Doctor, who continued.
“You ever been the new girl in school, Amelia? The first day in class? Everybody knows each other but you don’t know anybody, and you’re afraid that no one will talk to you or sit next to you at lunch?”
Amelia nodded, chewing on her lip in empathy.
The Doctor nodded back, “Well, it’s a bit like that.”
“You don’t think anyone will like you and you think you look funny?” she asked, dumbfounded that an adult would feel the same things as her.
“That’s about the size of it,” she sighed.
Amelia didn’t pull any punches. “Mummy’s right though, you are raggedy.” She pointed to her patchwork clothes. “And you still dress like a man in that.”
The Doctor bristled, but tried not to feel offended. “Really? Well, I suppose I’ve let my keen fashion sense slip a bit lately. It’s just that I’m at a bit of a loss… I’d been the other way so long I don’t know how to do it differently…” she trailed off, suddenly doubting the little girl could relate to her problems with post-regeneration difficulties due to spontaneous gender reassignment.
“It’s like what happened to me last year,” started Amelia. “When we moved, I had to change schools and I was afraid, but I met a girl in my class named Sabrina, and she was nice to me. We became best friends. We have sleepovers and everything, and do you know what we like to do best?”
“What do you like to do best?”
Amelia rummaged around in her sparkly handbag and pulled out a small glass bottle. “We do our nails!” she beamed.
The Doctor stared at the little bottle of nail varnish in her tiny hands with trepidation. “Ohhh, weeelll, that’s…”
“Try it!”
“Oh, really… I don’t think-“
“C’mon, it’s fun!” the girl cajoled, patting the floor next to her as she sat cross-legged, in view of the spectacular solar system out the door.
The Doctor scooted towards her as if she’d been invited to tea with the Slitheen.
Oblivious to her discomfort, Amelia grabbed one of the Doctor’s hands. “I’ll do yours first!” She shook the bottle and unscrewed the cap. A familiar odor of chemicals floated through the air, reminding the Doctor of a pink and yellow girl who used to get shiny daubs of paint on the console while she painted her toes between adventures.
The stuff went on cold and the Doctor hissed.
“Oooh, big baby!” scolded Amelia. “Nearly done. Gimme the other hand, and don’t fuss, it’s still wet!”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the Doctor, holding out her other hand and bringing the finished one to her face. It was glittery. The Doctor could see tiny individual flecks of colour in the clear varnish. She wiggled her fingers and they picked up various bits of light and winked them back at her: Blue, purple and magenta-and tinier flecks of silver, all globbed together to cover her nails in a multicoulored sparkle.
“It’s only paint, but it makes me happy. I thought it might help you, too.”
The Doctor now held her matching hands up. Her eyes reflected the sparkle of the polish.
“Y’know, I like who I am,” Amelia said thoughtfully. “Y’know what’s best? I get to surprise people-usually stupidhead boys! Last month, Tate Blakeslee was being mean to one of my friends, and I told him to stop. He made fun of me, saying that I was just a teeny girl, and what was I going to do to him anyway, hit him with my pocketbook?”
The Doctor was following her story intently. “He does sound mean. What happened?”
“I smacked him in the face. Made him cry like a ickle wee baby.”
The Doctor tried to suppress a guffaw. “Well, normally I don’t condone violence…”
“But he didn’t see it coming. I can hide my tough on the inside, wear glitter nail polish and play on the swings-I can do whatever I want and people won’t think I can do things until I show them. That’s what Daddy calls ‘being my own woman.’ And I like it. I like being a girl!” She grinned.
“You’re a very wise girl at that, Amelia.”
“Well, I like you,” she stated simply, “and friends help each other.”
There was a bit of silence as the two new friends grinned at each other. Then the music selection skipped to the next song. As Clair De Lune played it’s first bars, Amelia clapped her hands together and jumped up.
“Oh, I love this!” She squealed, and began to dance around the room like a petite ballerina.
As the Doctor watched her, her eyes grew unfocused, taking in the swirling, beautiful chaos outside the ship, and the ecstatic, twirling little girl in front of her. As she watched her dance, she was reminded of all of those seeming young girls whom the Doctor had known in his previous lifetimes, who had all turned out to be so much more than they’d seemed as well…
There were so many of them: The archeologist enigma, the stewardess, the American, the President, “the Duchess,” the Victorian, and the Girl Who Waited. There was the primitive in animal skins who broke the infertility curse on Gallifrey; the cheeky journalist who’d bravely and loyally assisted the most number of his incarnations; the battle-tested soldier who’d traveled war-torn Earth alone during the Year That Never Was to save him; the teenaged runaway with a heart of gold and Nitro-9 in her pocket; the temp from Chiswick with the mouth that wouldn’t quit, who for one shining moment had been the most important woman in the whole wide universe; the adventuress who restored the Web of Time; the tiny blonde whom he’d mistakenly tried to pawn off on UNIT due to “insufficient qualifications;” and of course, the shopgirl from the Estates who saved him from himself, ripped through the multiverse to find him, and would own his hearts forever.
And this little ginger girl with sparkly nail polish and a mean left hook…
There were so many of them over the years-and still others who she’d known over her long, long life who had come and gone, if only for a moment. Each of them, cherished companions, whose memories blended together inside of her and sparkled incandescently-like so much glitter nail polish.
The Doctor didn’t need a role model; she’d already had countless. All of those years with all of those magnificent, strong women that she’d had the honour to know all those years-how could she possibly need any more examples?
With all of their sacrifices, how could the Doctor continue to reject who she was now?
The only real question left was how could she live up to their standard?
The Doctor bit back the shame that it had even been such a struggle.
He was a she now. And she finally accepted it.
The Doctor owed it to them-all of her former companions-to live to rise to the level of their example. She was the Doctor, but her companions had made her better; she only hoped she could be half the woman they’d been.
She heard a voice, echoing throughout time and wrapping itself around her like a hug:
“Oh, Grandfather…”
Remembering Susan-and all the other diverse individuals who’d shared their lives in the TARDIS-tears welled up in the Doctor’s eyes, and she saw the kaleidoscope of glittering colours through her tears.
As the song ended, Amelia turned to the Doctor. “How do you like your nail polish?”
“It’s like stardust…” she whispered. “And they’re beautiful! They were all… beautiful!”
To be continued in Chapter 11: Sunflowers for Amy
Author: psyfi_geekgirl
BetaBabe: akkajemo
Characters/Pairings: Twelve, Amy/Rory, Amelia
Rating: PG-13
Excerpt: She didn’t know when she was going to ever get used to this whole idea of being a woman-didn’t know if she wanted to.
Word count: 6,367
Disclaimer: Until she’s Jossed, Twelve is mine-but of course based entirely on stuff that ain’t mine… All hail Auntie Beeb!
A/N: Written before s6, so it may go a bit AU
WARNING: Character illness. I put this up because I understand that for some on my F’list, this may be difficult reading
Comments = ♥
I know you’re out there…
TAKE NOTE: I also do not give anyone permission to post this in whole or in parts anywhere else! To do so would be very dishonest and terminally uncool and your actions would kill kittens, make puppy dogs cry and send the Reapers to eat your thieving flesh...
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
The Doctor threw the parking break and listened to the materialization sequence wind down. She double-checked the date-April 9, 2026-a Thursday. She looked at the piece of paper in her hand again, the note she’d jotted down during her phone conversation with Rory. He’d given her this date when he’d called earlier. She read the date again and triple checked her coordinates. Yep, she was right.
“Don’t be late,” he’d said. “Amy needs you,” he’d said.
But he hadn’t told her why.
Funny, he hadn’t said a thing when the Doctor mentioned she happened to be a woman now, but he’d sounded kind of preoccupied. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
The Doctor wasn’t exactly sure why she cared so much-why she hoped it wouldn’t be such a big deal-except she did. She recoiled inwardly at the expressions of shock and dismay, or worse yet, ribald teasing that she would get from the Ponds.
Except… ah, no. The rejection. It was the rejection she feared more than the teasing.
And then there would be the hesitation, this distrustful anticipation once they saw her soft, feminine body with its delicate features: They’d doubt her.
It was ok. She doubted herself.
Jack had told her she was too busy projecting all of her own insecurities onto everyone else to really notice that people were only properly surprised and not (as she suspected) horrified and dismayed. And the fact that she had left Torchwood after five boring days of cataloguing scavenged alien artifacts and wandered aimlessly around the Vortex for another two had nothing to do with some stupid argument they may or may not have had about all this. She wanted to go sightseeing-and as usual-nobody wanted to come with her, cos she was obviously some sort of freak now!
Sulking, she jammed her hip against the console and yelped in pain. After jumping away, she brought her hand to her back and felt River’s gun. It had dug painfully into her. She’d forgotten the bloody thing was there. Yanking it out of her waistband, she stared at it, hating herself for needing it.
She tossed it in a cranny in the console and sighed loudly. She didn’t know when she was going to ever get used to this whole idea of being a woman-didn’t know if she wanted to.
She yanked on her hair in frustration with Jack, Torchwood and herself. Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was already imagining her abandonment by the Ponds-and she hadn’t even left her ship yet...
Still, there was only one thing for it: She would have to live through the experience of their reaction. Staying in the TARDIS all day after being asked to be prompt was not a viable option-and was certain to cause more trouble than it was worth, especially where Amy was concerned…
She sighed in resignation. Then, running a nervous hand through her curly brown hair and throwing on her old jacket, she pushed the doors open and walked outside.
It surprised her that after so many years the house looked exactly as it did on Fish Custard Night, so very long ago. True, the hedge and the trees were taller-but the swing set was still there, and if you squinted, it almost looked untouched by time.
She sighed with relief. At least she’d missed the shed this time…
The sound of someone nearby clearing their throat startled her.
“WAA-HAA!” The Doctor hollered in fright, spinning around.
She didn’t see anyone. Weird…
Was she hearing things now in addition to the headaches?
“Ah-hem,” came the sound again.
“Hello?” whispered the Doctor.
“Hello!” replied a small, squeaky voice. “I’m down here.”
“OH!” gasped the Doctor, looking down to see a small, strawberry blonde girl in a red and white polka dot housedress and red wellies. “Hello!” she grinned down at the child.
“You said that,” said the girl.
“Did I? Oh yes, I did! Yes, yes-hello!”
The girl giggled. “You’re the Doctor, aren’t you?”
The Doctor squinted at her, taking in the freckles, the ginger hair, the green eyes… Oh no… “What’s your name?” the Doctor asked, cautiously.
“I’m Amelia,” answered the girl.
“Oh, no no no no. No!” muttered the Doctor angrily. “I can’t have made a mistake! I triple checked it this time! No, you can’t be Amelia! It’s 2026!! Amelia grew up, snuck into a museum, traveled through time, got shot and saved the universe… got married! Bit a few people! You can’t be here, today-right now!”
Amelia cocked her head, watching the Doctor stomp around the yard and pull at her hair. She giggled as if the Doctor was a thoroughly enjoyable puppet show that was being enacted just for her. “You’re funny,” she said, her clear, bell-like voice stopping the Doctor’s rant midstream. “Daddy said you were funny!”
The Doctor stared down at Amelia. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Mummy and Daddy said that you were coming and that I should watch for you. You’re a doctor?”
The Doctor’s eyes sparkled with awe looking at Rory and Amy’s daughter. So, a daughter then, eh? Oh, those clever, wonderful… busy Ponds! So that’s what comes from all of that kissing and not breathing! The Doctor looked at Amelia Pond again. She looked so much like her mother it made her crave fried fish and pudding all over again. She nodded affectionately at the girl. “Yes. I’m the Doctor.”
“Have you come to help my mummy? She needs a doctor.”
******
The Doctor bolted through the front door and rushed through the house, yelling. “Rory? Rory! RORY!” She was about to go bounding up the stairs, two at a time, when she felt a hand on her back.
“Doctor! Doctor, it’s me! I’m here-Blimey!” gasped Rory, “You are-uh-really a woman now!” he exclaimed once the Doctor faced him. “Sorry, ahhh… River told me,” (he lied). “Well, you’re here.” He nodded at her as if he were talking to a hysterical child. “And you’re right on time. Thanks for that, then.”
The Doctor looked at the grey in Rory’s hair and the fine wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. About fourteen years had passed since the last time she’d seen him, but his eyes looked so much older than that. It was clear to her that a lot had happened since the last time they’d seen each other, and not all of it had been good. Still, it was good to see him.
“Rory, what’s wrong with Amy?”
“Doctor, I think you had better come downstairs for a minute… Please,” he stressed when the Doctor wouldn’t shift. And it was only that hint of the desperation in his voice that made the Doctor follow him into the sitting room and take tea and biscuits with him like a regular person with nothing better to do, despite the warnings in her hearts.
******
“…In the end we decided to move back into this place,” finished Rory as he handed the Doctor the plate of chocolate Hobnobs. She took her sixth biscuit.
“So, you just traded houses with your in-laws?” asked the Doctor, finding it almost unbearable to wade through the small talk to wait to be told about what was really going on.
“Yeah. Well, Upper Leadworth was never quite our scene and in the end we needed more room than we had in the cottage with Amelia and then with everything we thought it best if we moved closer to the hospit-“
“You moved closer to the hospital? Why?”
Rory pushed his half eaten biscuit around on his saucer. “Work,” he blurted. “So I could be closer to work. Y’know-go to work, nip home for a quick bite, help little Amelia with homework and go back to work.”
“Homework?” said the Doctor, incredulously. “She’s what? Six? Have much homework does she?”
“She’s eight, Doctor-and you’d be surprised. Had to make a diorama for school on the solar system. I tell you-I was up all night making that thing!”
Despite her suspicions, the Doctor chuckled, “Heh, an’ I bet you were the only one to get it right!”
“Damn right I was!”
“Someday they’ll find Celo, hiding out there past Neptune.”
Rory scratched his jaw, thoughtfully. “Oh yeah? Will they do it in the next month or so, so that Amelia can get a better grade on her diorama?”
“’Fraid not, my friend.”
“Oh well. At least I know it’s accurate,” and he chuckled into his tea. “Even if my daughter hates me now for getting her a B on her school project… C’est la vie! So…”
There was an awkward pause.
“Do you like being a girl then?” he asked, suddenly and completely off topic.
“Not bad… I suppose…”
“Naw. You lie,” he challenged. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“Complete rubbish,” she admitted sourly. “How’d you know about that, then? Have you seen me already?”
“Ahhhh… No,” he muttered, fretfully fingering his teacup. “May have mentioned it earlier-River told us.”
“You’ve seen River?”
“Yes.”
“Recently?”
“Yes. She… Um… told us so it wouldn’t be a shock. You actually just missed her,” he gestured to the mostly empty teacup and saucer on the coffee table in front of them.
The Doctor was incredulous. “She’s just been here?” she said, her voice squeaking, peering into the cup, noticing the mauve lipstick smudged along the rim. Whatever was going on, the Doctor thought, River had already been here…
“Yep. And she predicted you’d be cross with her for not staying, but she said she had to go to meet you.”
“Yeah, figures. That’s the same old line she seems to give me now. So she couldn’t stay?”
“No, but she said you’d understand la-“
“Yeah, right. ‘Later,’” the Doctor finished for Rory. “Spoilers and all that,” she shook her head and waved a hand in frustration.
“Don’t know how you two deal with all that, frankly,” admitted Rory.
“Rory my friend,” she said with a sigh, “neither do I…”
The clock in the kitchen ticked loudly, filling the silence in the room between them.
“So!” the Doctor said all too cheerily. “A daughter then?”
“Yep!” Rory nodded enthusiastically and chewed on his bottom lip.
They did not speak of the one that had been lost years before, but the memory of it passed like a ghost between them.
The Doctor shook her head, perhaps to clear her guilt. “And naming her Amelia, imagine that!”
“Yep,” repeated Rory. “Amy’s idea…”
“Seems very like her. Only Amy would name a daughter after herself,” the Doctor remarked, plucking a bit of biscuit off her jumper and absentmindedly tossing it across the room. “Except for Donna, maybe…” she added under her breath, and then abruptly looked away, studying the grandfather clock standing in the corner watching them-a silent sentry, ticking off time.
Rory grinned disconnectedly at her over his cup and nervously sipped his tea, mercifully oblivious to the Donna remark.
The Doctor watched him. “Rory, it’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, but you won’t let me upstairs and you look like you’ve swallowed a hamster. You’ve got a great big secret you’re afraid to tell me. Now, out with it. Let the Doctor help.”
“Ah. Right.” Rory breathed. “About that, Doctor…”
******
As it was, the Doctor never heard the exact name of whatever it was that had taken up its malevolent residence in Amy Pond-she didn’t know if it was ovarian cancer or T-cell leukemia, Meningitis, Guillain-Barre Syndrome, ALS-or anything else. But really, it hardly mattered in the end; all she was able to do was stare at the shell of the redheaded firecracker that was practically swallowed by the enormous-looking bed as she struggled to sit up in it. Machinery beeped plaintively and coldly around her. Her pasty skin was fragile and tight, and the multitude of blankets on the bed concealed a smaller, more shrunken frame beneath.
“Why didn’t you call me before!” gasped the Doctor in horror as she clutched at her hair and pressed her thumb to her forehead. “Rory, why did you wait so long?! We need to get her out of here! We need to get her into the TARDIS! There are places, Rory! Places we can go!! I can take her to New Earth-year five billion and twenty-three-weeell, twenty-two, I don’t fancy running into myself-that would just make a bad day worse! But Rory, they can cure anything!”
It took her a moment to see the faded, red-haired, husk of a woman in the bed slowly shaking her head ‘no.’
“BUT WHY???” implored the Doctor.
“This is how she wants it to be, Doctor,” said Rory, his jaw fixed and resolute. “And we don’t want to argue with you on this. Cos you know as well as I that if we ever did take you up on that offer to cure her that we’d never be able to come back here. They’d be all over her-the Girl Who Lived-we’d never have a home to go to. And we know that you of all people know what that would be like.”
The Doctor’s eyes grew dark and unfocused. Yes, she certainly did know what that was like...
She moved quietly over to Amy’s bedside. She wanted to scoop her up and hold her close-to protect her and drive out whatever had taken up its unholy domicile within her.
“Then what is the point of me, then?” Her forlorn eyes looked into Amy’s watery ones. “I save people. It’s what I do. I’m the Doctor. If I can’t protect the ones I love then-“
Amy stopped her by putting her hand on hers and whispering to her with effort, “Not this time, Doctor.”
The Doctor was beside herself, “But there’s no coming back from this one, Rory! I’m not gonna find her someday hanging out at Cleopatra’s palace, a head full of Egyptian things!”
“We know that. But by traveling with you, we were prepared for this. We’ve crammed a lot of living into a relatively small amount of time. That’s why we’re prepared to let go.”
The Doctor searched Amy’s eyes for some sign of apprehension-something, anything-that would tell her to keep pressing her to change her mind, but she saw nothing but resoluteness. “Amy Pond, the girl who never made any sense… Are you sure about this?”
“Doctor, you know Amy-when has she ever changed her mind about anything?”
“Fair point,” said the Doctor, surrendering. Her head still bent, she nodded at them that she understood, even if she hated it.
“But there is something that Amy wants you to do,” said Rory, serving as interpreter for his wife who seemed too weak to do much talking herself.
“Name it.”
******
The Doctor stood in the entry with her hands shoved in her jacket pockets, trying to pay very close attention to the instructions Rory was giving her and not coming up with grand schemes of getting Amy in the TARDIS and whisking her off to get cured...
“Now this isn’t forever, mind you-just one trip,” Rory added. “She’s heard all of our old stories and she wants more than anything to see it for herself.”
The Doctor nodded. “Right. Just one trip.”
“Now, you’ll need to bring her home once she gets sleepy, of course-but we’d like it if you could manage to bring her back two weeks from today-in the, uh… time… order whatsit of things.”
“’Time order whatsit.’ Check.” The Doctor pulled a face. “Blimey, did you not learn anything while you were with me?”
Rory ignored the dig, knowing it was only a common distraction tactic-this time attempting to distract from the Doctor’s obvious discomfort and helplessness over Amy’s condition. He couldn’t fault her; it only showed how much she cared. He continued to play the stern, concerned father, knowing it was good practice, “Two weeks, Doctor-yes?”
“Yes, yes. Two weeks. Take Amy-“
“Amelia, Doctor.”
“Yes, right-Amelia. Take Amelia for a quick trip in the TARDIS but come back in two weeks time non-linearly. Easy peasy.”
“Exactly,” said Rory, smiling, relieved that the Doctor had gotten it.
“Why?”
His smile fell. “Why what, Doctor?”
“Why do you want me to bring her back two weeks from now?”
“We just-uh-we…” Rory stammered, “We need some time alone to sort out some things and we would prefer her not to be exposed to some of the procedures Amy needs to go through. We figure two weeks will be enough--”
“You’re a horrible liar, Rory,” the Doctor interrupted. “Please tell me that she’ll still be alive by the time we come back.”
Rory nodded. “I promise.” He looked into the Doctor’s eyes. “We just want to shield Amelia from the worst of it.”
“I understand, however-“ started the Doctor, but the entrance of Amelia in her travel coat and trainers interrupted her.
“I’m ready!” she announced, clutching a spangly gold pocketbook.
“That’s quite a snazzy handbag you’ve got there,” flattered the Doctor, leaning down to inspect it.
“Thanks.”
“Whatcha got in there?” she asked, fingering the stitching.
“It’s full of important things.”
“Ohhhhh,” breathed the Doctor. She stood up and threw a knowing look at Rory. “’Important things,’ huh? I keep all of my important things in my pockets.”
“Yes, but Doctor your pockets are transdimensionally enlarged…” stated Rory.
“Oooh. How right you are-you were paying attention after all!”
“At least I passed my doctoring exams,” needled Rory, grateful for the lightness.
“Cheeky.” She turned back to Amelia. “Ready to disembark, milady?”
Bouncing on the balls of her feet she grinned up at the Doctor. “Aye aye, Captain!”
Grimacing, the Doctor corrected her, “Ah no, I’m not the Captain-if I were, your father would be flirting with the NSPCC-instead, why don’t you call me the Doctor, okay?”
“What kind of name is the Doctor?”
“What kind of name is Amelia?”
She giggled and that seemed like understanding enough. The Doctor gesticulated flamboyantly, “Your carriage awaits, milady,” and offered her arm to her.
Rory snickered, finding it odd that he should hear so much of the old Doctor in this one; for there she was, playfully teasing his daughter like she were some kind of knight in shining armor. Except this one would wear a different breastplate…
“Thank you kindly-er… Doctor,” Amelia replied, responding to her as if she were that selfsame knight, pushing back her long, fluffy, ginger hair with an attempt at a very early tween flounce, switched her Handbag of Important Things into her other hand and followed the Doctor outside towards the TARDIS.
Rory followed them.
“I promise you, Rory-she’ll be safe as houses.”
“Oh, I know, Doctor. We trust you.”
“I don’t know why you do,” she muttered under her breath while she turned and walked away from him.
Once they were across the front garden, the Doctor glanced behind at Rory and paused. She noticed the way he had followed them out. At first she thought it was just a clingy, worried dad thing, but the haunted, terrified, little boy look she saw flickering behind his eyes troubled her. He was scared. And part of him, she could tell, wished that he could come with them, too.
It broke her hearts, knowing from experience that there were hardly worse experiences than waiting helplessly for a loved one to succumb.
It was going to be a horrific two weeks for him.
She gestured to Amelia to stay where she was for a moment and took a step back towards Rory. He startled, but she gently clasped his arm in an effort to steady the torrent of emotions she guessed might be swirling inside of him. She spoke to him gently, “You go do what you need to and don’t worry about us. If you want us sooner, you just call. Okay?”
“Sure thing, Doctor…” She noticed he had difficulty meeting her gaze. “Have fun,” he finished. When he finally looked up, she saw the tightness behind his eyes.
The Doctor pressed her lips together in a tight line and nodded stiffly, turned on her heel and turned her attention to Amelia, in an effort to lighten the mood, “Now, Amelia-you are about to see wonders of which your young mind has simply never dreamed of before! Observe these doors-seemingly made of plain wood-but I assure you are stronger than the assembled hoards of Genghis Kahn themselves! And held within is something so amazing, you will scarcely believe your eyes!”
With a flourish she opened the door.
Amelia didn’t move. The Doctor looked down, expecting her to be dumbstruck.
She wasn’t.
She was just staring at her, with her face screwed up in some sort of expression… It was hard for the Doctor to place… Wasn’t fear… What was it?
…Pity…?
The tiny redhead put her hands on her hips and cocked her head in a perfect replica of a few redheads she’d known recently. “Yeah, I know. It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Me Mum and Dad already told me all about it.”
The Doctor heard her father guffaw as she gave her a curt nod. “Riiiiight. Ok. Well… so much for that then.” She glared at Rory and he shrugged. “You always did like to take that bit away from me,” she accused.
Rory found himself grinning in spite of himself. Amelia waved at him, and they disappeared into the TARDIS together.
Rory watched the machine blink out of existence and looked up at their bedroom window above, quietly steeling himself for the next two weeks…
******
Inside the TARDIS was madness.
The Doctor pushed past Amelia and ran up the three steps to the console, twisting, flipping and slapping buttons and gears, and sending them spinning off into the Vortex.
“See, right? Impressive-yes?”
Amelia stood with wide eyes, rooted to the spot, looking around her. She nodded slightly.
“Not gonna be sick or anything, are you?” asked the Doctor with a grimace. “Can’t stand that. Ruins all the fun. It’s the smell, really…”
Amelia set her lips together and glared at the Doctor, insulted that she’d even insinuate that she might be ill.
The Doctor grinned, seeing the indignant spark in her eyes. “Good! Now that you’re here there are only two rules in my house: One, don’t wander off. And two: Don’t ask stupid questions!” As Amelia reached the Doctor’s side she bent enthusiastically over to face her, “But you know what? That second rule is rather rubbish, cos how else can you learn? Right? So, scratch that! Only one rule-about the wandering off-and forget everything else! Ask all the questions you want, Amelia! Nothing is out of bounds! Nothing is stupid-in fact, there are no stupid questions! No such thing! And never trust anyone who ever tries to tell you that, either! Cos every question is wonderful and all questions bombard your growing brain with knowledge like sun to a flower to make it grow! So! How’s about it? You got a question for the Doctor?”
“Yeah…” Amelia twisted her knees together and squinted up at the Doctor, “Where’s the loo?”
“Ah…”
Once Amelia was sorted, she rejoined the Doctor, who was leaning with her hip against the console with her arms crossed in front of her, looking every bit the part of a conquering pirate on her captured ship.
“Your dad told me you had a project in school last week.”
“Yeah, the solar system,” she answered, looking glum.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t like the project?”
“No. S’not that. Daddy helped me but he messed it up.”
“Messed it up? How?”
“He added a planet that wasn’t supposed to be there. Got points off because of it.”
“Why would he add a planet that didn’t exist?”
She shrugged. “Dunno, but he did.”
“What if I told you that your Daddy was right?”
Amelia looked up at the Doctor in doubt. “Teacher said it was wrong.”
“What if I said that your teacher is a small minded idiot with rubbishly, outdated information?”
A smile passed across the little girl’s face and her eyes sparkled at the idea that a grownup was calling her teacher stupid.
A bell like a cooking timer went off. Amelia wondered if the Doctor had been baking something, but she hadn’t smelled anything like cookies or pudding or anything.
“Guess what? We’re here!” declared the Doctor, grabbing Amelia’s hand and spinning her towards the door.
When she threw the door open, the little girl gasped.
For there, outside the door, was the vast expanse of space, illuminated by countless upon countless blazing stars, swirling in a multicoulored haze of twinkling dust and gasses, with tons of chunky objects floating in a mass directly in front of them.
Amelia swallowed hard. She couldn’t believe it: She was looking at outer space! And it was right outside the door!
“What you are seeing is the Kuiper Belt-four billion miles away from planet Earth-and is…” the Doctor prompted.
“A bunch of icy asteroids and junk that float around together past Neptune...
The Doctor waggled her head back and forth, about to argue the finer points of her young companion’s analysis, but decided in the end that it was basic information enough for an eight-year old human. “Yes,” She waved her hand, “close enough!” She pointed to some of the larger objects, which looked like planets themselves. “Now, all the way out here we are very, very far away from the sun, so most of these bodies are-as you eloquently said-ice and junk… Weellll, specifically a mixture of light hydrocarbons, like methane, ammonia and ice-which is a lot like a comet actually, but-“
Amelia interrupted the Doctor’s lengthy educational patter with a simple clearing of her throat and a question: “What does this have to do with my teacher being wrong?”
“Ah-ha!” sang the Doctor, reminded of her train of thought again. “So, yes, right! Celo! Well, as you know there are many objects in the Kuiper Belt that have been called ‘dwarf planets,’ Pluto is among them… poor Pluto… but, the one object that hasn’t been found yet-and that once it is found will be known as Celo, is the one your dad added to your diorama!”
The Doctor finished her oral dissertation and was disappointed to receive a rather cold reaction from her audience.
The little girl remained unimpressed, looking at the Doctor as if she’d grown twelve extra eyes, giant whiskers, and a tail out of her forehead.
“I don’t see a planet,” she stated, unconvinced.
“That’s because you can’t see it! Nobody can, yet! Look, all the colours of the cosmos are seen within the known wavelengths of current Earth’s astronomy. But, if I do this-“ she ran and hit a switch on the console.
Suddenly a gigantic planet-sized mass appeared before them.
The shock of it sent Amelia wobbling backwards on her feet.
“What did you do?!”
“Awwww, I simply depressed the spectrometer magnification filter on the TARDIS! That’s Celo, by the way. Latin for ‘hide, cover, conceal, keep a secret!’ It’ll be the next official planet to be discovered, hiding out here in the Kuiper Belt, just past Neptune-a Transneptunian gem just waiting to be found!” She waggled her fingers at it in a cheery greeting.
Amelia was gobsmacked, “How did you find it?”
“Wellll, it’s been here for ages, really-and it’s already been found, from my point of view, actually.” She pointed to herself. “Time traveler, me-remember? Anyway,” she twirled around on one heel, “you lot will find it too, one day… Once scientists on Earth discover a little thing called the Low-Density Impervisium wavelength-then you’ll have all sorts of wondrous discoveries in store for you!”
“So,” breathed Amelia, “Daddy was right!”
“Oh yeah! Of course your Daddy was right!”
Amelia grinned a huge grin, her faith in her Daddy restored. The Doctor grinned with her, knowing all too well how important that relationship would be to her in a very short amount of time.
There was a pause before Amelia started speaking.
“Back when I was little,” she began, “in kindergarten, I had a hamster. His name was Elliot and he was the best pet ever! But he died last year. I cried every night, wanting Elliot to come back. But Mummy and Daddy told me that sometimes things die and we feel sad, but that our hearts feel better in time... Y’know what?”
“What?”
“They were right. I mean, I miss Elliot and I’ll always love him, but now I have Jasper and I love him, too. If I hadn’t lost Elliot I’d never have Jasper. It doesn’t always work like that, though. Last year, Poppy Williams died and we didn’t get another one. We still miss him, but I’m not as sad as I used to be.”
The little girl fiddled with something on her dress, and the Doctor silently braced herself for the question she knew was coming.
“Daddy said that Poppy went away because there were things broken inside him that couldn’t be fixed.”
“Right. Sometimes, no matter how much we love someone, we can’t help them.”
“There’s something broken inside Mummy, too.”
The Doctor looked into the little girl’s eyes. “Yes, there’s something broken inside your Mummy that can’t be fixed.”
“She’ll be going away, too?”
The Doctor nodded.
Amelia nodded too. She had known but hadn’t yet been told-and the Doctor said there had been no out of bounds or stupid questions. The Doctor was right, there had been questions she’d needed to ask; and her mind expanded a little bit in the knowing, even if it hurt her heart.
At least she knew now.
The Doctor came down the stairs towards Amelia holding a tray of sandwiches and milk. As she passed the console, she switched on the speakers to play classical music to enjoy while they ate.
Amelia had been content to sit and stare outside the door at the fantastical swirling of the colours of the cosmos whilst the Doctor had prepared lunch. They left the doors open as they gabbed and listened to the music.
“So. Mum and Dad used to travel with you.”
The Doctor nodded.
“I’ve seen the pictures. You were a man. You had funny hair.”
The Doctor looked towards the ceiling. “Well, yes-and a pretty cool bow tie-“
The little girl giggled. The Doctor frowned at her. “Oh, you’re a funny thing, aren’t you? Anyway, I just recently changed into this,” she indicated herself, “and I don’t really know what to do.”
The little girl’s laughter dissolved as she looked seriously at the Doctor, who continued.
“You ever been the new girl in school, Amelia? The first day in class? Everybody knows each other but you don’t know anybody, and you’re afraid that no one will talk to you or sit next to you at lunch?”
Amelia nodded, chewing on her lip in empathy.
The Doctor nodded back, “Well, it’s a bit like that.”
“You don’t think anyone will like you and you think you look funny?” she asked, dumbfounded that an adult would feel the same things as her.
“That’s about the size of it,” she sighed.
Amelia didn’t pull any punches. “Mummy’s right though, you are raggedy.” She pointed to her patchwork clothes. “And you still dress like a man in that.”
The Doctor bristled, but tried not to feel offended. “Really? Well, I suppose I’ve let my keen fashion sense slip a bit lately. It’s just that I’m at a bit of a loss… I’d been the other way so long I don’t know how to do it differently…” she trailed off, suddenly doubting the little girl could relate to her problems with post-regeneration difficulties due to spontaneous gender reassignment.
“It’s like what happened to me last year,” started Amelia. “When we moved, I had to change schools and I was afraid, but I met a girl in my class named Sabrina, and she was nice to me. We became best friends. We have sleepovers and everything, and do you know what we like to do best?”
“What do you like to do best?”
Amelia rummaged around in her sparkly handbag and pulled out a small glass bottle. “We do our nails!” she beamed.
The Doctor stared at the little bottle of nail varnish in her tiny hands with trepidation. “Ohhh, weeelll, that’s…”
“Try it!”
“Oh, really… I don’t think-“
“C’mon, it’s fun!” the girl cajoled, patting the floor next to her as she sat cross-legged, in view of the spectacular solar system out the door.
The Doctor scooted towards her as if she’d been invited to tea with the Slitheen.
Oblivious to her discomfort, Amelia grabbed one of the Doctor’s hands. “I’ll do yours first!” She shook the bottle and unscrewed the cap. A familiar odor of chemicals floated through the air, reminding the Doctor of a pink and yellow girl who used to get shiny daubs of paint on the console while she painted her toes between adventures.
The stuff went on cold and the Doctor hissed.
“Oooh, big baby!” scolded Amelia. “Nearly done. Gimme the other hand, and don’t fuss, it’s still wet!”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the Doctor, holding out her other hand and bringing the finished one to her face. It was glittery. The Doctor could see tiny individual flecks of colour in the clear varnish. She wiggled her fingers and they picked up various bits of light and winked them back at her: Blue, purple and magenta-and tinier flecks of silver, all globbed together to cover her nails in a multicoulored sparkle.
“It’s only paint, but it makes me happy. I thought it might help you, too.”
The Doctor now held her matching hands up. Her eyes reflected the sparkle of the polish.
“Y’know, I like who I am,” Amelia said thoughtfully. “Y’know what’s best? I get to surprise people-usually stupidhead boys! Last month, Tate Blakeslee was being mean to one of my friends, and I told him to stop. He made fun of me, saying that I was just a teeny girl, and what was I going to do to him anyway, hit him with my pocketbook?”
The Doctor was following her story intently. “He does sound mean. What happened?”
“I smacked him in the face. Made him cry like a ickle wee baby.”
The Doctor tried to suppress a guffaw. “Well, normally I don’t condone violence…”
“But he didn’t see it coming. I can hide my tough on the inside, wear glitter nail polish and play on the swings-I can do whatever I want and people won’t think I can do things until I show them. That’s what Daddy calls ‘being my own woman.’ And I like it. I like being a girl!” She grinned.
“You’re a very wise girl at that, Amelia.”
“Well, I like you,” she stated simply, “and friends help each other.”
There was a bit of silence as the two new friends grinned at each other. Then the music selection skipped to the next song. As Clair De Lune played it’s first bars, Amelia clapped her hands together and jumped up.
“Oh, I love this!” She squealed, and began to dance around the room like a petite ballerina.
As the Doctor watched her, her eyes grew unfocused, taking in the swirling, beautiful chaos outside the ship, and the ecstatic, twirling little girl in front of her. As she watched her dance, she was reminded of all of those seeming young girls whom the Doctor had known in his previous lifetimes, who had all turned out to be so much more than they’d seemed as well…
There were so many of them: The archeologist enigma, the stewardess, the American, the President, “the Duchess,” the Victorian, and the Girl Who Waited. There was the primitive in animal skins who broke the infertility curse on Gallifrey; the cheeky journalist who’d bravely and loyally assisted the most number of his incarnations; the battle-tested soldier who’d traveled war-torn Earth alone during the Year That Never Was to save him; the teenaged runaway with a heart of gold and Nitro-9 in her pocket; the temp from Chiswick with the mouth that wouldn’t quit, who for one shining moment had been the most important woman in the whole wide universe; the adventuress who restored the Web of Time; the tiny blonde whom he’d mistakenly tried to pawn off on UNIT due to “insufficient qualifications;” and of course, the shopgirl from the Estates who saved him from himself, ripped through the multiverse to find him, and would own his hearts forever.
And this little ginger girl with sparkly nail polish and a mean left hook…
There were so many of them over the years-and still others who she’d known over her long, long life who had come and gone, if only for a moment. Each of them, cherished companions, whose memories blended together inside of her and sparkled incandescently-like so much glitter nail polish.
The Doctor didn’t need a role model; she’d already had countless. All of those years with all of those magnificent, strong women that she’d had the honour to know all those years-how could she possibly need any more examples?
With all of their sacrifices, how could the Doctor continue to reject who she was now?
The only real question left was how could she live up to their standard?
The Doctor bit back the shame that it had even been such a struggle.
He was a she now. And she finally accepted it.
The Doctor owed it to them-all of her former companions-to live to rise to the level of their example. She was the Doctor, but her companions had made her better; she only hoped she could be half the woman they’d been.
She heard a voice, echoing throughout time and wrapping itself around her like a hug:
“Oh, Grandfather…”
Remembering Susan-and all the other diverse individuals who’d shared their lives in the TARDIS-tears welled up in the Doctor’s eyes, and she saw the kaleidoscope of glittering colours through her tears.
As the song ended, Amelia turned to the Doctor. “How do you like your nail polish?”
“It’s like stardust…” she whispered. “And they’re beautiful! They were all… beautiful!”
To be continued in Chapter 11: Sunflowers for Amy