Author's Note: Hello fellow Whovians! I've been waiting a few weeks for my new computer and I have just finally recieved it. In those few weeks I have also watched episode 5... ouch. My new goal is to help keep the Amy/11 universe alive and well, using any means neccesary... even these.

P.S: I also only have WordPad on this computer, so sorry if there are any spelling or punctuation mistakes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. If I did, I would incinerate every Weeping Angel in the fires of my eternally burning rage at episode 5, series 7.

History, n: an account mostly false, of events, mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves, and soldiers, mostly fools.- Ambrose Bierce 1842-c.1914, The Devil's Dictionary.

"On the fields of Trenzalore, at the fall of the Eleventh, when no living creature can speak falslely or fail to answer, a Question will be asked, a question that must never, ever be answered."- The Prophecy


His only logical course of action, at least, the only one he could see, was to die.

It was a very risky assumption, seeing as they were the words of an insane cult who wanted to kill him, but then, he also had the word of an severed head who was killed by said cult. Even though that severed head was one of an intergalactic dealer of illegal contraband, he was fairly sure he could trust it.

Simply put, the Question, "Doctor who?", had to be answered truly, by a living creature on the fields of Trenzalore at the fall of the eleventh. Because it had to be answered, it would be a fixed point in time. His name would be known by whoever hears it on Trenzalore, wherever it was.

And if the Question must, "Never, ever be answered.", it could also be assumed that some kind of cataclysmic event would happen, with terrible consequences.

He was caught in a double-bind. Whatever he did, no matter what, his death would always result in a earth-shattering distortion in time.

And now, the question of the hour is: Die fast or die slow? The answer? He had lived far too fast and lived years longer than was healthy. It was an easy choice for him.

The TARDIS floated dead in the metaphorical water of the Vortex. Slowly, its doors opened wide, giving the Doctor a perfect view of the beauty of Time. He basked in the pure time energy for a bit, enjoying the feel of the primal power of the Time Lords.

Clouds of time energy swirled slowly around him, quickly obscuring the room behind him from view. Smiling, he stepped off of the TARDIS's doorstep and into the small bubble of atmosphere it generated around itself. He positioned his feet against the TARDIS, closed his eyes, and kicked off...only to be stopped by something incredibly solid.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes. The Doctor would have reeled back in shock had he not been too terrified to even blink. In front of him was a familiar face, the one he saw every time he looked in a mirror. "What are you doing here!" he snarled, glaring at the nightmare before him.

The Dream Lord grinned wolfishly, clutching a terrible wound in his side, and rasped ,"And where things get complicated." His arm shot out, and he clamped a Vortex Manipulator around the Doctor's wrist. Roughly shoving him out of the way and further into the Vortex, he opened the door to the TARDIS. Looking back, the Dream Lord called out weakly "Remember Amy, Doctor! Twelve years or five minutes? It's your choice now, the Doctor's choice!"

And then, without so much as a single vroom noise, his TARDIS vanished, leaving him drifting in the void without any kind of atmosphere.

Dying in the Vortex was not the picnic he had imagined it to be. In fact, it had to be the first time he had ever died so painfully. The now unfiltered time energy played havoc with the non-native technology of the Manipulator and with his own regenerative energy, sending sparks and golden energy clouds everywhere.

Feeling a regeneration coming on, his body beginning to feel melty, the Doctor quickly made the most important decision of his life.

He used a Vortex Manipulator inside the Vortex while he was regenerating.

Apart from being the stupidest thing he had done to date, it also may have been his finest hour.

He took advantage of the natural time energy inside the Vortex, combined it with his own, and used it to supercharge a faulty Manipulator. Again, it was his finest idea to date.

With a snap, crackle, and a pop, he vanished in a flash of blue and gold.


Amy Pond was waiting.

It had almost been 5 minutes, and now she was getting nervous that he wasn't going to come back, he being the weird man in a box, of course.

Even though he was probably just like all the other people in the universe, she had still trusted him, for some reason behond her comprehension. When she had looked into his was like she had seen the whole world staring right back at her, so old and so very tired.

She shifted uncomfortably on her bag of clothes and looked back at the still smoking pile of debris where the shed used to be. Aunt Sharon would probably be very cross with her after she got back from her trip. After all, why else would the shed blow up in the middle of the night for no obvious reason?

Resuming her vigil, she stared intently at the spot where the box had been. It still confused her how the box had been able to get there in the first place, let alone land without breaking into many tiny peices. She would ask the Doctor when he came back, just like he said he would.

A flash of blue and gold near the shed caught her attention, and she quickly dashed over eagerly anticipating an adventure. Stopping outside of the thick, golden cloud, she nearly fell backwards in alarm when a squat, balding, old man stepped out of it. Amy cried out in alarm, "Wh-who are you?"

He frowned, muttering "Who am I indeed?" the man walked around, waving his arms above his head as if testing out his limbs, and continued "Amelia, tell me what I look like. I feel old, please tell me I'm not an old man again."

Amy laughed at his antics and giggled, "You're older than dirt!", she fell to the ground laughing. The old man had looked like a giraffe when he was waving his arms above his head like that.

The old man huffed loudly, and walked over to the shed, where he picked up a large shard of glass. Amy saw his expression change to one of wonder, then to one of horror, and then he fainted.

Amy rushed over to him and hovered worriedly over him, until he sat up groggily a few moments later. She asked him worriedly,"Are you all right mister?" It wouldn't do to have Aunt Sharon come home to her standing over a dead body, after all. He groaned and pushed himself to his feet. Dusting himself off, he looked at her appraisingly. Frowning, he asked "Did a strange man in a box pass through here," he held a hand above his head "About this tall and not wearing a bowtie?"

Her face visibly brightened. Maybe this man knew where the Doctor was! "Yes! He left just a few minutes ago. Do you know where he is?" Continuing, she said "And who are you?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling madly "The Doctor is in your future, just like he told you he would be."

"Well then why isn't he here now? He said he would only be five minutes." Amy asked, pouting. "And you still haven't answered my second question."

The man's face fell, and he shook his head sadly. "The Doctor missed his landing site. You won't see him for about twelve years."

She froze in shock. "Twe-twelve years? What will I do 'til then? Aunt Sharon won't be back for at least another day." She said, still reeling from the news. "And again, who are you?"

He frowned, looked at himself in the shard of glass again, and said, still disbelieving, "I'm the Dream Lord."


The Dream Lord hated being the Dream Lord, but sadly, revealing himself was not an option if he was to put his fledgling plan into action.

His plan was simple really, just like his last one. He would raise Amy Pond, posing as her grandfather, who technically didn't exist, to get her away from her neglective aunt. A little bit of time travel here and there, with just the right amount of foreknowledge for later, was sure to keep her safe. And even if his simply being here changed things, at least there would be two Time Lords keeping her safe and sane this time around.

Turning back to Amelia, as he would call her for fear of her losing her fairytale-ness, he asked her "Did Prisoner Zero escape here?"

Since he was in an alternate universe, anything could be different than his own, he would have to check and plan accordingly for every situation from now on.

Amelia looked suspisciously at him, "How do you know about that? Me and the Doctor were the only ones in the room." He mentally slapped himself. How stupid would it be if he blew his cover on the first day here? Sighing, he said "I know things honey. Now I need you to wait here while I go and kill the Multiform that has taken up residence in your house. All right?"

Amelia nodded, and sat back down on her suitcase. She said grumpily "I'll sit here, I guess." Crossing her arms, she glared up at him madly.

He sighed, and set off for the 6th room on the second floor of her house.

What he didn't notice was the little girl sneaking out of the garden and following him into the house.

As he walked through the house, he noticed something strange. There were no pictures, none at all, of Aunt Sharon. This alone was enough to get him suspiscious, but what really set him off, was when he found the Multiform escaping from the house and into the large Crack in the house's driveway. He raced back outside and stared in horror at the huge Crack. "It still happens here." he whispered, frowning. "The TARDIS still explodes. How could it still happen?"

Pulling his Sonic out of the pocket of his now too large jacket, he closed the crack. The Dream Lord walked around the site of the Crack warily, as if it would spring open again at any time.

This was the difference in the universe. What had changed because of his crossing dimensions. The price of his selfishness in coming here.

Aunt Sharon didn't exist. She had been consumed by a time Crack.

"Amelia!" He shouted, calling back into the garden. "Come out front."

A small hand tapped him on the shoulder and he whirled around in suprise. "Amelia!" he said, "How did you get here so fast?"

She grinned sheepishly and replied "I've been following you the whole time." He rolled his eyes and asked, testing his hypothesis, "Where is Aunt Sharon?"

Amelia frowned and said confusedly "What are you talking about Grandad? I don't have an aunt."

Ah, and now he knew for sure.

For one thing, Aunt Sharon didn't exist, and was a topic that should be avoided at all costs

And more importantly, he wasn't the Dream Lord at all. No, he was some thing even better. Something he had never thought in a million years he would be again to anyone.

A Grandfather.


Author's Note: I hope this lives up to my previous story. This idea has never been done before and I think I'll be able to work in the actual Amy/11 romance without making the Doctor seem like a total creep. I mean raising his own wife? That would be insanely weird. Oh yeah, I will also be calling the canon universe Doctor the Dream Lord, or the Grandfather, whichever works out better. And I'm going to be doing the one year a chapter approach to developing the new personality of the Dream Lord and Amy. Don't worry, Eleven should be in by chapter 13.

P.S. My new computer is awsome:)

P.S.S. Besides for the WordPad thing:(

P.S.S.S. I really need to proofread more completely. I've already updated this chapter like three times tonight. Please tell me any mistakes you all find. IN A REVIEW!