NOTES: Written for LJ community fairytale_thon Eleven/Amy ficathon. I'm writing for ms_prue who gave me some interesting prompts to choose from. Her request is at the end. Song I used for inspiration is Ring, Ring by ABBA.

He was gone. Really gone. Again. She couldn't help but wonder if this time it wasn't for good.

She'd assumed he'd left to be sure everything was back to normal and would come back straight away. That had been weeks ago now and no sign of the Doctor or his blue box.

Would he call? Would he realize she spent her free time never far from home or yard? Waiting for him to come back.


She tried to reassure herself. He'd come back once, even if it hadn't been five minutes later. He'd come, though. So, surely he'd come back again. He seemed so genuine in taking a shine to young Amelia.

Only this time, he hadn't said he'd be back. He hadn't even said goodbye.

That had stung.

He told her to trust him, to believe him.

And she had. Despite everything, she had.

He had no idea how difficult it was for her to do. Years, twelve of them, of people thinking she was mad, delusional, or just a wee bit eccentric for the tale she told of her strange fish custard eating visitor.

Those that were important, mattered to her, believed her now because they saw him with their own eyes. It didn't make up for all of those years though. Being made fun of. Being shunned by other kids. Listening as other little girls talked about birthday parties they'd gone to over the weekend.

Strangely, little Amelia Pond never seemed to be invited.

Oh sure, she knew now that she could have done things differently. She didn't have to be so adamant that the raggedy Doctor existed. She didn't have to obsess over him as she had.

But that would have been like cutting off her arm. He understood her in a way no one else had. He'd believed her about the crack in her wall. He'd believed her that she thought it meant something more than just simply being a crack in the wall.

Yeah, so it may not have just been her ramblings about the raggedy Doctor that got her shunned. Saying that you heard things in the quiet of your room, voices, probably didn't go too far to winning friends either.

They'd been real, though! Finally, today, she had proof that she wasn't mad, delusional, or eccentric.

Rory had tried to soothe her after they'd watched the Doctor leave. He'd put his arms around her, knowing somehow that she needed that comfort. It wasn't his arms she wanted around her, though. She didnt want Rory to give her the things she needed.

What a fool she'd been!

She'd trusted him. Believed in him.

And he'd left.

No goodbye. No saying he'd be back. Nothing. Crack in the wall problem solved and he was off like he'd been fired out of a canon.

Just the whirring-like sound of his machine. And then it was gone, taking him with it.

She was alone again.

Rory's arms around her didn't count. Rory's softly spoken words attempting to placate her didn't count.

She'd stopped believing he'd come back. She'd never gone so far as to believe it had all been a dream or a figment of her imagination. A little girl craving company from an adult who'd pay attention to her so badly she'd created him somehow.

No, she'd never believed that. Always knew he'd been real. Had been in her home. Had looked at her despite her young age as though she mattered. Had something of import to say.

He'd believed her when no one else had.

Was it any wonder she'd missed him? Built him up into someone even God probably couldn't live up to.

He was like a hero to her. A bumbling and odd hero, but nonetheless that was what little Amelia had seen.

She should be happy her town was safe. The voices in her house were gone. Things were back to normal.

And she supposed she was.

All she wanted, though, was to hear that whirring sound again. Feel the wind kick up around her, her hair go wild, while his machine appeared once again.

It would be the happiest sound to her of all.

Instead, she stared at the garden, wishing and hoping that sheer desire and willpower could make him appear again.

Didn't he understand that she needed him? She didn't need someone who only believed her after solid proof pointed toward something existing.


She deserved better than that.

She couldn't help but think over the brief time she'd had with him and wonder. Had she done something wrong? Was that why he'd left? Was she supposed to have turned her back when he started changing? She wasn't sure if she would have done that twelve years ago, truthfully. She'd always been the type to look at things head-on. No sense in doing it any other way.

So, why couldn't she let go of the Doctor? Certainly, he'd told her in so many words how he felt, what she meant to him. Take the hint that his leaving without so much as a goodbye meant exactly what it did.

Mission accomplished. World saved. Crack in her wall problem solved.

Where was he? Where did he go? Who was he? There had to be more to him than met the eye.

It was those thoughts, those unanswered questions and knowing that the answers wouldn't be common or boring that prevented her from letting go.

She'd glanced at her cell phone more than once, wondering if he could call her. More than once she'd felt as though she was living out that ABBA song. Ring, ring, why don't you give me a call? How she even knew that song she didn't know, but every time she caught herself waiting and doing nothing but that it came to her mind. And I sit all alone impatiently.

So why didn't he call? He knew how, she knew. Getting a hold of her wouldn't be that hard if he wanted to. She smiled a little, picturing him calling her job. Wouldn't that be something? Go out on an assignment, only to find it was her Doctor. What kind of costume would he request? She didn't picture him wanting the sleazier things like some did. He seemed above that somehow.

She wasn't sure she could do it. Kiss him. Not like that. She'd built him up over the years into something akin to her own version of Prince Charming. Someone who would rescue her from her situation, take her away from everything, and give her the life she'd always wanted.

True, he had a blue box that had a swimming pool near the library and not a white steed, but beggars couldn't be choosers. And this was real-life, not a fairy tale.

Amy Pond didn't believe in fairy tales any longer.

He'd somehow seen to that. In some ways, he was bigger than life, the stuff fairy tales were written about. But fairy tales didn't hurt you. They didn't go away for twelve years and appear again as if nothing had happened. Time hadn't passed. Life hadn't changed.

Fairy tales didn't leave without saying goodbye, leaving you to wonder how you were going to go on. What you'd done wrong? Feeling abandoned all over again.

Eleven/Amy:Friendship or Romantic Pairing:
Preferred rating:
What 'genres' do you want to read? (Angst, romance, comedy, etc)
What do you absolutely not want to read (Genres, squicks, etc):
Badly written romance where the piss is not being taken...
Prompt 1
The unexpected significance of park benches
Prompt 2
Fairy floss can be any colour
Prompt 3
Isn't that an ABBA song?
So, ring, ring, why don't you give me a call?