locker_monster | Doctor Who fic: Gravity (1/1)

Title: Gravity (1/1)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,035
Characters/Pairings: Amy, Rory, Amy/Rory
Timeline: Pre-"The Eleventh Hour"
Summary: When Amelia Pond met Rory Williams
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Auntie Beeb
A/N: A little fic expanding on Amy's line from "Day of the Moon": "My life was so boring before you just dropped out of the sky." She says it's just a figure of speech, but I thought it would be funnier if she sort of meant it literally. Un-beta'd.

Gravity: the mutual attraction between any two bodies in the universe.

"Amy!"

Rory could only watch in horror as his wife was flung across the room, knocked aside by a powerful telekinetic blow like a swatted fly. She hit the unyielding stone wall before gravity finally claimed her and she dropped to the floor with a sickening crunch. Even if Rory hadn't been a nurse, he knew instantly that Amy had broken a bone.

The blue skinned alien who had delivered the blow grinned wickedly at Rory. She blew him a kiss before fleeing the ruins. He desperately wanted to give chase, but his head won out over his heart. Amy was hurt and that was his first priority.

She lay on her side, her bright ginger hair draped over her face. Rory knelt down next to her and gently brushed her hair back. He was reluctant to move her, but they couldn't stay here. Going against all of his medical training, he picked up Amy in his arms and lifted her off the floor.

He heard broken bones grind together and the sound of it made him grit his teeth. Amy's right arm was noticeable swollen but there were no unusual lumps. A clean break. Rory heaved a grateful sigh. There was no time to make a splint though, so he did his best not to jostle Amy as he ran back to the human base camp.
* * *
Leadworth, September 1995

Amelia Pond was not having fun.

Her mum had promised her an adventure, but so far all she had done was watch sweaty men unpack boxes from the moving lorry.

Moving from Inverness to Leadworth was supposed to be an adventure. That was what her mum and dad had said. They were going to make new friends and see new places and do new things. Amelia hadn't even seen the inside of their new house yet. Her mum said she needed to stay out of the way.

She sat in an old swing set outside of their new house. It made a loud creaking sound every time she tried to get it going and it hurt her ears. Her parents were talking with one of the moving men. A lot of their boxes were sitting on the front lawn.

Amelia was bored.

She hopped off the swing. A big box with "Amelia's toys" written across it was one of the boxes not being moved. Next to it was her red wagon. She walked over to the box and yanked at the flaps until it ripped open. Amelia wrinkled her nose. All of her toys smelled like cardboard now.

She dug around until she found her coloured pencils and a pad of paper at the bottom of the box. If her mum wanted her out of the way, then she'd stay out of the way. She had seen a nice big field nearby on the drive up. She'd stay there until the adults were done with their boring, adult things.

Piling her things in the back of the wagon, Amelia walked off, unnoticed by anyone. She didn't see any other kids, but she didn't feel like playing with anyone anyway. She didn't see why they had to move. She liked their little house in Inverness, with the big oak tree in the back. She knew all the good hiding places in the neighbourhood and Mrs. Fraser next door let her play with her dog. Nothing was fair anymore.

The sight of a big tree near the edge of the field made Amelia feel a little better. She was going to sit in the shade and draw until her mum and dad came looking for her. Dragging her wagon over, she chose a nice soft spot at the base of the tree.

She had just pulled out her favourite coloured pencil when she heard the rustle of leaves above her. Amelia looked up, thinking it was a bird hopping around on the branches.

A boy fell out of the tree instead.

He hit the ground and cried out loudly. Amelia expected him to get up and go away, but he just lay there, saying "ow" over and over. She wouldn't be able to draw if this boy was going to be so noisy.

"Are you okay?" she asked, rising to her knees to get a better look at the boy. He had a big nose and there were leaves in his hair. His eyes were scrunched up tight.

When he heard her voice, he stopped saying "ow" and he slowly opened his eyes. "Hello?" he said softly.

Amelia got to her feet and stood over the boy so he could see her. He looked older than her but shorter. "What were you doing in the tree?" she asked.

There were tears in his eyes and his nose was runny. He started to rub his sleeve across his nose but then he let out another shout.

"What's wrong with you?" The boy looked ready to start crying. Amelia had only seen a boy cry once before, when she had kicked Billy Lovett in the stomach for trying to drop a spider down the back of her shirt.

"I think… I think my arm's broken." The boy sniffed again, trying to sound brave, like boys did, but he just sounded like he wanted to run to his mum.

Amelia had never broken a bone before, but her Aunt Sharon had broken her arm when she fell off a horse. She remembered her aunt saying it had hurt really bad. "Are you sure?" She leaned down and poked the boy's right arm. He shouted right in her ear.

"Stop that! It hurts."

Amelia sighed. "Stop being stupid. I'm trying to help."

"Don't poke me then." The boy scowled at her.

"Fine, you can just lie there by yourself." Amelia turned on her heel and stomped back to her wagon. She packed up her things and started to walk off. Was everyone in Leadworth this annoying?

"Wait!" The boy struggled to sit up and he cried out in pain again. "Don't go," he said quietly.

She could ignore boys when they were being mean but this boy sounded really scared. Even her parents didn't ignore her when she was scared. "Get up then. Or did you break your leg, too?"

The boy seemed surprised that she hadn't left and he started to climb to his feet, but when he put his left foot down, he winced and fell back down. Amelia wondered if he had broken his leg when the boy said, "I think I sprained my ankle." He seemed embarrassed.

Amelia wanted to roll her eyes, but wasn't her mum always telling her not to climb trees? Maybe her mum was right. She looked back at her wagon and then to the boy. She thought of dog sleds or the sleigh rides they took at Christmas. "If you can't walk, maybe I can pull you in my wagon."

The boy smiled. He had a nice smile, Amelia decided. It made her look away from his big nose.

He hobbled over to her wagon and sat down, crossing his long legs so they wouldn't hang over the sides. He bit down on his bottom lip the entire time, but he didn't cry out. Amelia gave the wagon a tug once they were ready to go and it barely budged. "You're heavy," she moaned. She tried again, pulling harder.

"I have an idea. Can you grab that branch?" The boy pointed to a branch that had snapped off from the tree when he fell. It was a thick at Amelia's arm and probably just as tall. She dropped the handle of the wagon and dragged the branch over. The boy gripped it in his left hand. "You'll pull and I'll push."

She didn't see how a branch would be much help, but she let the boy have his wild ideas. She pulled on the wagon handle with both hands, straining with all of her might, her eyes squeezed shut from the effort. Suddenly the wagon started rolling forward. Amelia opened her eyes, amazed at her own strength. Then she looked over her shoulder.

The boy was using the branch like a paddle. He dug the end of it into the ground and pushed back as they moved along. Amelia was certain she was doing all of the work, but the boy was helping as much as he could. He looked horrible though, like he was going to be sick.

"What's your name?" she asked. Her dad always got her talking on long car trips to pass the time.

"I'm Rory," mumbled the boy. "Rory Williams."

"I'm Amelia."

"You sound Scottish."

"I am Scottish. We just moved here." The wagon hit a bump and Rory let out a sharp gasp. "Sorry."

"Did you move into the Hammonds' old place?" Amelia glanced back over her shoulder with a frown. Rory still looked like he was going to be sick, but he had stopped mumbling. "It has a bright blue door, right?"

She had noticed the colour of the door the first moment she saw the house. Blue was one of her favourite colours. "Yeah."

"I live a block over."

They had reached the small incline between the houses and the field. Amelia hadn't noticed it on her way there, but now it looked huge, like it was as tall as a mountain. She sighed, but she pulled on the wagon handle and it started rolling again.

She and Rory didn't speak as they made their way up the hill. Her arms hurt from pulling the wagon and her tights were stained green at the knees from all the times she had slipped in the grass. This was even less fun than watching people move boxes, but it did feel like an adventure. It was like the fairy tales she read. Something always stood in the way of the prince before he reached the princess. She felt more like the prince than the princess though. Rory was definitely the princess if this was a fairy tale.

Huffing and puffing, they finally made it to the top of the incline. At least the ground was flat for the rest of the way and the pavement was smoother than grass. Amelia was hot and sweaty now and she wanted to sit down, but they were nearly back to her house. Rory's branch made a scrapping sound each time he dragged it across the ground.

"So how come you moved to Leadworth?" he asked between breaths.

Amelia was too winded to answer right away and she wasn't sure why they had to move anyway. Why was a job better in Leadworth than in Inverness?

"Amelia...!"

She stopped where she was and the wagon bumped into the back of her knees. That was her mum. And she didn't sound happy.

"Is someone calling your name?" wondered Rory.

Her mum turned the corner and spotted them right away and then she was running towards them. Her mum was definitely not happy. Amelia didn't see what the problem was. If her parents were too busy to watch her then it was their fault they had lost track of her. She grabbed the handle of the wagon and started pulling it again. She reached her mum and didn't stop.

"Amelia. Where have you been?" Her mum walked beside her, her face red. She glanced at Rory with his branch and runny nose. "Who's this boy?"

"He's Rory." They turned the corner. The movers were still outside their new house.

"I broke my arm," added Rory.

"What?" said her mum.

"I didn't do it," insisted Amelia. "He fell out of a tree."

"Amelia." Her mum stepped in front of her, blocking the way, and she knelt down so they were eye to eye. She was using her stern voice, the same voice she used whenever she wanted Amelia to listen. "Where have you been? I turned around and you were gone. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Mum, you're not listening. I was with Rory. His arm's broken."

"I sprained my ankle, too," he added.

"I was helping him get back home. You always say it's good to help people."

Her mum sighed and it wasn't her frustrated sigh. Amelia knew it was her "fine, all right" sigh. "Fine, all right. We'll talk about this after we get Rory home."

Amelia smiled and she walked on, pulling the wagon behind her.

Their new house had blue walls. It was blue everywhere you looked. It was different from their old house, but it was one thing Amelia didn't mind. She never had blue walls before.

She sat at her desk in her new room, drawing whatever came to her. Her mum had made it clear she was supposed to stay inside while they unpacked. It didn't seem fair. She wasn't the one who got hurt yesterday.

Her tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth as she drew herself as a princess riding a white horse. She would ride away from Leadworth one day, when she was older. Maybe she'd even meet a prince.

A knock sounded at her door. "Amelia, you have a visitor." She turned around to see her mum showing Rory into her room. His right arm was in a bright white cast and he walked with a limp. "I'm downstairs if you need anything." Her mum looked briefly at her before she left.

"Hi," said Rory. His hair was messy; he needed to run a comb through it.

"Hi," said Amelia, but she didn't sound as cheerful as Rory.

"My mum said I should thank you for helping me yesterday." Rory shuffled his feet awkwardly. "So, um, thank you."

No one had ever thanked Amelia for anything before. "How long do you have to wear the cast?" It looked uncomfortable.

"Six weeks. And I'm not allowed to get it wet either so I can't take any baths." Rory sounded rather happy about this.

Amelia turned back to her drawing. Boys. They always had to be smelly and dumb. Why couldn't boys be nice?

It took her a second to realize that Rory was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder at her drawing. She put her arms over the piece of paper, hiding it from view.

"Do you want to sign my cast?" asked Rory. He held out his arm. The cast didn't have any names written on it. It looked like a blank piece of paper ready to be drawn on.

Amelia looked at all the coloured pencils and markers on her desk and then up at Rory. He was smiling at her. "Don't you want your friends to sign first?" It was a trick. It had to be. Rory was only here because his mum said so.

Rory looked down at his trainers. "I thought, since you just moved here, um... Aren't we friends now?"

Amelia barely heard the last part. Rory's voice got quieter as he kept talking.

"If you don't want to..." He turned, ready to walk away.

Amelia grabbed his arm. The cast felt heavy and scratchy under her hand. She rapped her knuckle against the side of it, wondering if it was as heavy as it felt. Rory gasped in pain and squirmed to pull free.

"It still hurts!"

"Stop moving around then." Amelia grabbed a bright purple marker and started writing her name in big letters right across the middle of Rory's cast. When she was done, her name took up most of the space.

Rory gazed down fondly at his first signing. "It looks better now."

"If I ever break my arm," said Amelia, knowing she was smart enough not to fall out of a tree, "you can be the first to sign it."
* * *
Amy let out a low moan. Rory often heard such a moan the morning after they spent the night at the pub. Amy had a headache, but aside from that she would be fine.

Still, his heart fluttered when she didn't open her eyes right away. The medical scanner at the human base camp hadn't revealed any life threatening injuries, thankfully, and he had faith in the advanced medicine of the 43rd century, but Rory needed to see with his own eyes that Amy was okay.

"Rory?" At least, Rory thought he heard Amy say his name. It sounded more like "Rhrr".

"I'm here." He grasped her left hand and gave it a squeeze.

"What happened?" muttered Amy. She turned her head towards Rory and opened her eyes.

"You hit your head. We're back at camp."

Amy slowly nodded her head. She looked ready to go back to sleep when she noticed her right arm. It lay across her stomach and the white cast that encased it was not hard to miss. Amy blinked a few times and then she said, "My arm's in a cast."

"You hit your head and you broke your arm," Rory amended. Amy wiggled her fingers experimentally and she cringed. "You're lucky." He felt the twinge of a sympathy pain. "You only have to wear the cast for a week. Thank modern medicine."

His wife only seemed mildly impressed. "So you carried me back?"

"I didn't have a little red wagon."

They shared a smile. It had been a pain to wear that cast for six weeks, but Rory was forever gratefully he had fallen out of that particular tree on that particular day. His life would probably be completely different if a little Scottish girl hadn't decided to wander off from her parents.

Amy looked around and she spied a black marker sitting on the side table. She made a grab for it with her free hand and handed it to Rory. She didn't have to say anything; she simply handed him the marker.

In big, black letters, Rory wrote his name across Amy's cast. Feeling particularly inspired, he turned the o in his name into a smiley face. When he was done, his name took up most of the space.

"It looks better now," said Amy. Holding back a wince, she sat up and kissed Rory on the lips.