Scars of a Girl

By: InitialA

Disclaimer: I don't own/make money off of Doctor Who! In fact, I give a ton of money to the BBC!

Author's Note: Takes place immediately following the 2011 Christmas special. Spoilers abound if you haven't watched it!

The Doctor had tried to sneak out before clean-up. Amy, armed with her water pistol, had stopped him. "I'll have you trained in no time. Like a cat," she said with a grin, and pretended to blow the smoke off her pistol's barrel.

The Doctor gave her a look that was very-catlike as he wiped water off his face and sulked back into the kitchen. "Many have tried, Amelia Pond, but all have failed."

"I'm Amy Pond. I'll win yet."

So, with a bit more sulking and a few dashes of delight over primitive dish-washing tools, Christmas dinner was soon in containers in the refrigerator and the dishes drying on the rack. The Doctor took a few moments to take in the Ponds' home, what they had done with it in two years' time. It was all very modern—for the twenty-first century—but what startled him the most was how adult it all was. Amy and Rory Pond, adults. With adult-like things, like too many clocks and odds-bobs knick-knacks all over. Things with no use but to look pretty. Sterile white Christmas lights on the tree, no colors on the walls. "Amy… I feel I've let you down…" The Doctor murmured.

"Why's that?" She whispered, and he jumped, caught off-guard.

"Nothing. Well, not nothing so much as… I've let you grow up."


"It's so… boring," The Doctor said, sweeping his arms around. "Where's the fun? The cool? Where's that mad Amy when you need her?"

Amy glanced down. The Doctor sighed. "Amy, Amy, Amy…"

"We're hardly here, Rory and me. We travel a lot. It seems cruel to make roots when we've little want to," she said.

"Is that why…"

"Why what?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I know you don't put out balloons for this sort of thing, but I do know you. And I know Rory. And it surprises me."

Amy's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. The Doctor fiddled with his bow tie, clearly agitated at having to say it, "Little ones. Baby Ponds."

She gasped a little. "Oh! I…"

They stared awkwardly at one another for a moment. "Yes," she answered finally. "And my job. They like me looking fit, and being all… pregnant wouldn't land me any gigs for a while, yeah? Not a big market for models who have swallowed planets now, are there?"

They stared at each other again. Amy was starting to look a bit panicked, the Doctor was slightly disbelieving. "I'm scared," she blurted out.

"Of another River," the Doctor concluded gently.

She sighed in disgust and sat down hard on a chair. "It's so annoying when you do that. Why do I bother answering you when you already know the answer?"

"It's not if I know the answer, Amelia. It's if you know the answer."

He sat down next to her. She scrunched up her face at him. "Yes, fine… I know it's not going to happen again. I know I won't be a sleeping… incubator for a mad woman with a taste for guns. Or at least the sleeping part. But there's some part of me that just can't… I can't make the rest of me fully believe that."

"Does Rory know that?"

"Of course he does. And he's on me to see someone about it. As if I need another shrink poking about in my head…"

"In this lifetime, it's your first," the Doctor said with a smile.

"I'd still bite them," Amy threatened.

The Doctor laughed. "That's my Pond. Bite away, who needs mad people trying to fix other mad people, anyway? We're all mad here."

"Back to the cat thing again," Amy said.

They shared a smile. The Doctor's gaze strayed back to the tree. "Still… being completely grown up is overrated, you know. A bit of color and fun never hurt anyone."

He pulled out his sonic and pressed the button a few times. The tree's lights began to twinkle as the electricity shorted out and returned in an ordered kind of chaos. "There. That's a bit better."

He stood up suddenly. "Well! Best be off then. Things to do, stuff to break, all the usual bits and pieces."

"Doctor…" Amy said, raising an eyebrow.

He paused in the foyer, looking back. "Whether you believe it or not, you've put down some roots. You can't come running away with me now."

She looked down, hiding her smile. "I suppose so."

"And Amy…" he walked over, and crouched before her. He tapped her chin, making her look up at him. "It's always going to be scary. It never really stops being scary. And if it's not for you, then it's not for you. But I know what it's like to lose my dearest ones, a million times over. And I'd rather have known them and lost them, than never had them at all. Think of how much lonelier I would be without my memories."

He had rarely spoken of Gallifrey to her. She knew about his family, but little else than that they had existed. "Doctor…"

He winked, and stood to leave again. As he opened the door, she called out to him, "I'll think about it."

He said nothing, only smiled to himself, and walked out into the snow.

((I honestly don't know where Rory was in this. Imagine he popped off for more eggnog or something. Or was chasing carolers down the street. He never really factored in, this seemed more of a space-BFFs moment. Hope you enjoyed, reviews are always lovely!))