![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
locker_monsterTitle: A Good Woman Goes to War (1/1)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,102
Characters: Amy
Timeline: Post-"The Almost People", pre-"A Good Man Goes to War".
Summary: Amy will stop at nothing to get her baby daughter back.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who has belonged to the BBC for 54 wonderful years.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
who_contest's "Feminine" challenge. Happy 54th anniversary Doctor Who!
“Push…”
The word has lost all meaning for Amy. People have been shouting it at her for the past hour but it doesn’t make a bit of difference. She’s the one bringing this child into the world. She’s the one who should be shouting orders.
It’s only when her child cries out, a healthy, announcing cry, does she relax and flop back against the bed. Beads of sweat slide down her forehead, plastering her hair to her skin. Amy feels limp as a rag and every muscle in her body is sore, but it’s a good sore in a way. She’s a mother now.
“You did great.” Rory leans down and places a gentle kiss on her forehead. He brushes away a strand of her hair, a mile wide smile on his face.
Her vision is out of focus and Rory blurs together with the white walls of the room, giving him a sort of halo. She reaches out to touch him, but she seems to misjudge and all she feels is air. “Rory?”
“Blimey, is that how it’s done? I thought it’d be less… shouty.”
The plaid pattern of the Doctor’s jacket is too much for Amy’s eyes. The lines seem to shift and run together, like the fabric is alive. He leans over Rory’s shoulder and smiles down at her like she’s seven years old again.
“Hold on.” The smile remains and Amy hears the Doctor’s voice but his lips don’t move. “We’re coming for you, I swear it. Whatever happens, however hard, however far, we will find you…”
Amy blinks, so tired and confused. “Doctor?”
“And here she is…” The Doctor and Rory look up and Amy follows their gazes to her left. A woman with curly brown hair stands with her back to them, but she’s clearly cradling a bundle of the cloth. Her baby.
“Can I see her?” asks Amy, her words slightly slurred. She tries to lift her arms but they feel weighed down.
The woman turns and Amy gasps. It’s the woman with the eye patch, the one she keeps seeing inside of walls. She can’t be here. “Rory! Doctor!” Amy wants to sit up, to leap to her feet, but she can’t. She’s feels… tied down?
“We’ll take good care of her.” Eye Patch Lady smiles and it sends a shiver down Amy’s spine. She walks away, holding Amy’s child. Amy’s daughter.
“No! Come back here!” Amy rises up from the bed, but her arms remain stationary. She nearly dislocates her shoulders from their sockets it’s such a surprise. She looks right, then left, trying to comprehend what’s going on.
Restraints hold her down, strapping her wrists to the bed. She tugs and tugs but the straps don’t give. She looks madly around the room for Rory and the Doctor, but they’re not there anymore. The only people who remain are clothed head to toe in white and surgical masks cover their noses and mouths. They watch her emotionlessly. Amy struggles even harder.
Eye Patch Lady pauses in the doorway and looks back over her shoulder. She gestures to one of the people in white and they immediately step forward.
Amy’s shouting all the profanities she knows and she’s yanking so hard against the restraints that the skin around her wrists is being rubbed raw and bloody. She has no idea what’s going on or where she is, but she’s angry. They can’t take her daughter away from her. She won’t let them.
Two figures in white suddenly appear on either side of the bed and they force her to lay back. Amy tries to buck them off but she can’t. Another figure in white approaches with a very long syringe in hand.
She fights but it’s inevitable. She feels the needle jab her in the neck.
Amy falls back and her surroundings blur together even more. Everything is white. And then everything goes black.
Amy wakes but she feels far from rested. Her head is fuzzy, like someone’s replaced her brain with cotton batting. The room spins as she sits up but there’s nothing holding her down this time. She has to take a few deep breaths before she can swing her legs around and drop her feet down onto the cold floor.
The figures in white are gone and so is Eye Patch Lady. Amy vainly searches every corner of the room, hoping Rory or the Doctor are lurking nearby, but it’s becomes painfully obvious that she simply imagined them. She’s on her own. There’s no doubt in her mind that the Doctor and Rory will come for her, but she doesn’t know when or how. She waited twelve years for the Doctor to come back but she doesn’t have that luxury now.
With slow steps, she makes a circuit of the room, but there’s not much to discover. There’s the bed, a shelf of medical supplies, and a sink. Amy snoops through the supplies but it’s boring and useless stuff. Then she notices the tray the supplies sit on and an idea hits her. The tray is metal and has some heft to it. She clears off the supplies and experimentally wields the tray in her hands. It won’t knock down walls, but maybe it’ll do some good against some heads.
There’s only one door out and no windows. Amy sneaks over to the door and presses her ear to the plastic surface. Very faintly she hears the sound of someone shuffling their feet.
The door is one of those Star Trek, slide apart dealies. There won’t be any hiding behind the door for her. Amy figures it’s worth a shot anyway. If her plan works, it works and she escapes. If not, she gets a stern yelling at and she’s given time to come up with another plan.
She positions herself flat against the wall next to the door and then lets out a loud moan of pain. It doesn’t take much to sound genuine. She gives it all she’s got, hoping she doesn’t sound like she’s trying to pass a kidney stone. The seconds tick by and she begins to wonder if this is a horrible plan.
Before she can have more self-doubts, the doors part with a hiss and young man dressed in military fatigues enters the room. He surveys the room but doesn’t look behind him. Amy grins at her luck.
She smashes the tray down on the soldier’s head, putting a sizeable dent in the metal. The soldier cries out in pain and he stumbles around, dazed. Amy swoops in for another blow and this time she smacks the soldier in the temple. He falls to his knees but he’s not out for the count. Amy takes that as her cue to leave. She dashes out into the corridor, her bare feet slapping against the floor.
Her vision is still out of focus and it feels like the floor is tilting beneath her but she’s out of the room. She takes a right and runs as fast as she able. The corridors are all white, too, and it makes her wonder if she’s aboard a medical ship or inside a hospital.
After a few blind turns, Amy comes upon her first glimpse of the world outside of the white corridors. She finds a porthole in the wall, but instead of looking out at space, she looks down at a darkened hangar. Futuristic fighter jets settle in for a landing while the ground crews scramble around to get their tasks done. The presence of the soldier didn’t really register with her but now she gives it some thought. Why is there an army around? Do they want her daughter for some reason?
Amy decides not to linger. She needs to find a radio or some sort of communication device to contact the Doctor.
She actually thinks she might get out of here.
God, she should know better by now.
A hooded shape practically glides around a blind corner and Amy can’t stop and turn around in time. She barrels into the figure but she doesn’t have enough momentum to knock it down. The thing wraps its arm around her, squeezing her tight. She looks up into the hood, expecting to see a face, but she sees nothing.
The faceless monk drags her back to the room, kicking and screaming.
They remove the shelf and the medical supplies.
Amy thought that would be the end of it; that they would just leave her to rot away in this room. Her captors surprise her, though. First, they give her a change of clothes. It’s nothing fancy, but the unflattering white clothes and canvas shoes are better than a thin medical gown and bare feet. And then they feed her.
Amy doesn’t touch it. It’s not like she believes it’s poisoned, but she’s not their house guest. The soldier continues to arrive each day at the same time anyway and then leaves when he realizes he's not needed.
She can hear Rory in her head, telling her she needs to keep her strength up, but she also doesn’t feel like eating. Her stomach rolls each time she thinks about Eye Patch Lady and her people and what they might be doing to her daughter.
Without a clock, or even a window, the days blur together. She loses track of how many times the soldier arrives with her meals. Instead, Amy spends her time testing the strength of the room. The walls are thick and made from some weird, space age plastic. When she rams her bed against the wall it doesn’t even leave a mark. There’s no chance of her breaking it down.
So that leaves the door. There’s always a guard outside, but just one. They don’t think she’s worth the trouble of two guards.
The soldiers may be stupid but she knows they won’t fall for the same trick twice. She doesn’t have anything to beat them over the head with anyway, just the sink and the toiletries that go with it and the bed. Amy thinks it all over; she has the time. The soldier comes and goes with another meal.
An idea hits her.
She’s waiting by the sink, washing her hands, when the door opens to admit the soldier. He notices her and, as always, offers the tray of food. The meal’s still hot and steam rises up in curls.
Amy dries her hands and smiles at the soldier. He smiles back, but it seems like an automatic response. He shifts nervously.
She reaches for the tray, but instead of taking the plate of food, she sweeps up the nearest utensil. She hoped for a knife. She gets a fork instead.
Amy goes with it and stabs the fork into the soldier’s right hand. He screams out in pain and he drops the tray of food. For good measure, Amy kicks him in the groin. Hard.
By now, the commotion grabs the guard’s attention and he rushes into the room, hands on his gun, but it’s not raised. Amy lunges for the sink and grabs the cup of hot water sitting on the lip. She throws the water into the guard’s face. It’s not scalding hot, just as hot as the tap can run, but it’s hot enough. The guard gasps and his hands immediately go to his face to wipe the water from his eyes.
Amy slips out the door and this time she heads left. She can’t wander aimlessly this time. Any second now she expects to hear a wailing alarm and a computerized voice saying the prisoner has escaped.
At the junction ahead she finally comes upon her first piece of luck. A layout for this section is screwed to the wall. It also gives her the name of her prison. Demon’s Run.
There’s nothing about a nursery, but it does point the way out. Amy doesn’t want to leave this section without her child – it hits her that she hasn’t even thought of a name – but this might be her only chance to escape or to call for help.
The corridor is suddenly plunged into red hued darkness and like she predicted, an alarm sounds. Amy mumbles under her breath and she heads for the exit.
The way out is a lift and she spies it at the end of a long corridor, but the stomp of heavy boots has started up and it’s getting closer. She puts on a burst of speed and in the back of her mind she regrets not eating any of those meals.
The doors to the lift open and three of the faceless monks wait inside. In the darkened corridor, they seem to float towards her. This time Amy has enough traction and she’s able to skid to a halt. Going back the way she’s come is no good, but it’s better than getting another bear hug from a wannabe Dementor.
She makes it back to the medical section without encountering any more monks and ducks into a small alcove. Amy reasons there has to be a set of stairs somewhere. She leaves the alcove and peeks her head out into the corridor. She looks left, then right.
She’s met with a wall of tan coloured fatigues; the front of the jacket soaked with water. Looking up, she meets gazes with the guard who had been standing outside of her room. He glares at her with red rimmed eyes.
Amy tries to make a break for it but he grabs her by the arm and slams her against the wall. Before her senses can clear, he drives the butt of his rifle into her face.
Amy opens her eyes and for a second she thinks she’s back aboard the TARDIS. Rory holds her hand and he stands protectively over her. Behind him, the Doctor paces back and forth, his hands waving in the air as he mutters to himself.
It’s perfect, but it’s not real.
“Why do I keep dreaming you two up?”
The Doctor pivots on his heel mid-stride and walks over to her bedside. “We’re a deep set mental projection,” he says.
“What?” Even a fake Doctor doesn’t make sense.
“You miss us,” Rory translates. He brings their clasped hands up to his chest. His wedding band catches the light and it shines on his finger. Amy’s fingers are noticeable bare. For the first time, she realizes she’s not wearing her wedding ring and she feels a lump form in her throat. She keeps losing everything precious to them.
“We’re coming,” says Rory and he squeezes her hand. “Just keep giving them hell. Do it for our daughter.”
“A trio of Ponds.” The Doctor grins at the thought.
“You make us sound like we’re a band.”
This Rory isn’t real, but Amy needs to talk to him all the same. She pulls her husband closer. “She needs a name.”
Rory leans down and kisses her on the forehead. “You’ll think of something.”
When Amy opens her eyes again, she’s not alone, but these people are real. One of the medical staff is shining a light onto her face. Her skin tingles and she can feel her hair standing up on end. She tries not to move, to let on that she’s awake, and she does her best to take in the situation by just roving her gaze around the room.
The figures in white roam around the room. She counts five, including the one looking at her. Amy doesn’t see a guard but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. There’s no sign of Eye Patch Lady.
They’re keeping her fed and healthy. They need her alive.
The medical staffer switches off the light and turns back to reach for another piece of equipment. Amy could be wrong, but deep down she knows she’s right. She leaps off the bed and wraps her hands around the staffer’s neck.
They tumble to the floor and the staffer ends up kneeling. Amy squeezes her hands and it feels wrong, but she forces herself to stay where she is. “I want to speak to your boss,” she yells at the remaining medical staff. “Now!”
One of them scrambles out of the room while the others just stare in horror. Amy can tell she’s tackled a woman. She doesn’t feel an Adam’s apple bobbing against her fingers. She doesn’t mean the woman any harm, but she sees no other way of grabbing the attention of Eye Patch Lady.
The staff member who ran away quickly returns. They approach slowly, with their right arm held out like they’re holding an invisible shield. Amy notices the metal band around the staffer’s wrist and sure enough the staff member pushes some buttons on the band. A blue light shoots up, forming a holographic image of Eye Patch Lady. She stares at Amy, visible only from the shoulders up, mimicking all the times Amy had seen her in the surfaces of walls and doors.
“Amy Pond.” There’s almost a sing-song quality to the woman’s voice. “There’s no need to strangle my staff.” A slight smile touches her lips.
“Where’s my daughter?” Amy tightens her grip a little more. She wonders if her hapless victim’s face is turning red.
“She’s safe. We’re taking good care of her.”
“Let me see her.”
The smile disappears. “I can’t do that.”
“If you don’t let me see her, I’ll choke this woman to death.”
“You won’t. You and I both know it.”
Amy wants to, she so wants to. These people can’t take her child away from her without consequences. But she kills this woman and then what? She kills another and another until someone listens? That’s not the way to solve this. That isn’t the Doctor’s way and it isn’t her way either.
She lets out a breath and releases her hold. The medical staffer crawls away on her hands and knees.
“Good,” says Eye Patch Lady, like she’s a teacher praising a student. “This doesn’t have to be difficult. We can live in harmony.”
“Yeah, right,” scoffs Amy. “Just wait until the Doctor gets here.”
Eye Patch Lady doesn’t bat an eye at the mention of the Doctor. Amy doesn’t like that one bit. “Are we quite done?”
“No.” She steps towards the hologram and the staffer holding it up takes a step back. Eye Patch Lady looks bored. “My daughter. Her name. I want you to remember it.”
The woman’s singular eye narrows. “Why?”
“Because she’s the reason you’re going to lose. The Doctor’s not just coming for me. Her name’s Melody Pond.”
The hologram shuts off.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,102
Characters: Amy
Timeline: Post-"The Almost People", pre-"A Good Man Goes to War".
Summary: Amy will stop at nothing to get her baby daughter back.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who has belonged to the BBC for 54 wonderful years.
A/N: Written for
who_contest's "Feminine" challenge. Happy 54th anniversary Doctor Who!“Push…”
The word has lost all meaning for Amy. People have been shouting it at her for the past hour but it doesn’t make a bit of difference. She’s the one bringing this child into the world. She’s the one who should be shouting orders.
It’s only when her child cries out, a healthy, announcing cry, does she relax and flop back against the bed. Beads of sweat slide down her forehead, plastering her hair to her skin. Amy feels limp as a rag and every muscle in her body is sore, but it’s a good sore in a way. She’s a mother now.
“You did great.” Rory leans down and places a gentle kiss on her forehead. He brushes away a strand of her hair, a mile wide smile on his face.
Her vision is out of focus and Rory blurs together with the white walls of the room, giving him a sort of halo. She reaches out to touch him, but she seems to misjudge and all she feels is air. “Rory?”
“Blimey, is that how it’s done? I thought it’d be less… shouty.”
The plaid pattern of the Doctor’s jacket is too much for Amy’s eyes. The lines seem to shift and run together, like the fabric is alive. He leans over Rory’s shoulder and smiles down at her like she’s seven years old again.
“Hold on.” The smile remains and Amy hears the Doctor’s voice but his lips don’t move. “We’re coming for you, I swear it. Whatever happens, however hard, however far, we will find you…”
Amy blinks, so tired and confused. “Doctor?”
“And here she is…” The Doctor and Rory look up and Amy follows their gazes to her left. A woman with curly brown hair stands with her back to them, but she’s clearly cradling a bundle of the cloth. Her baby.
“Can I see her?” asks Amy, her words slightly slurred. She tries to lift her arms but they feel weighed down.
The woman turns and Amy gasps. It’s the woman with the eye patch, the one she keeps seeing inside of walls. She can’t be here. “Rory! Doctor!” Amy wants to sit up, to leap to her feet, but she can’t. She’s feels… tied down?
“We’ll take good care of her.” Eye Patch Lady smiles and it sends a shiver down Amy’s spine. She walks away, holding Amy’s child. Amy’s daughter.
“No! Come back here!” Amy rises up from the bed, but her arms remain stationary. She nearly dislocates her shoulders from their sockets it’s such a surprise. She looks right, then left, trying to comprehend what’s going on.
Restraints hold her down, strapping her wrists to the bed. She tugs and tugs but the straps don’t give. She looks madly around the room for Rory and the Doctor, but they’re not there anymore. The only people who remain are clothed head to toe in white and surgical masks cover their noses and mouths. They watch her emotionlessly. Amy struggles even harder.
Eye Patch Lady pauses in the doorway and looks back over her shoulder. She gestures to one of the people in white and they immediately step forward.
Amy’s shouting all the profanities she knows and she’s yanking so hard against the restraints that the skin around her wrists is being rubbed raw and bloody. She has no idea what’s going on or where she is, but she’s angry. They can’t take her daughter away from her. She won’t let them.
Two figures in white suddenly appear on either side of the bed and they force her to lay back. Amy tries to buck them off but she can’t. Another figure in white approaches with a very long syringe in hand.
She fights but it’s inevitable. She feels the needle jab her in the neck.
Amy falls back and her surroundings blur together even more. Everything is white. And then everything goes black.
Amy wakes but she feels far from rested. Her head is fuzzy, like someone’s replaced her brain with cotton batting. The room spins as she sits up but there’s nothing holding her down this time. She has to take a few deep breaths before she can swing her legs around and drop her feet down onto the cold floor.
The figures in white are gone and so is Eye Patch Lady. Amy vainly searches every corner of the room, hoping Rory or the Doctor are lurking nearby, but it’s becomes painfully obvious that she simply imagined them. She’s on her own. There’s no doubt in her mind that the Doctor and Rory will come for her, but she doesn’t know when or how. She waited twelve years for the Doctor to come back but she doesn’t have that luxury now.
With slow steps, she makes a circuit of the room, but there’s not much to discover. There’s the bed, a shelf of medical supplies, and a sink. Amy snoops through the supplies but it’s boring and useless stuff. Then she notices the tray the supplies sit on and an idea hits her. The tray is metal and has some heft to it. She clears off the supplies and experimentally wields the tray in her hands. It won’t knock down walls, but maybe it’ll do some good against some heads.
There’s only one door out and no windows. Amy sneaks over to the door and presses her ear to the plastic surface. Very faintly she hears the sound of someone shuffling their feet.
The door is one of those Star Trek, slide apart dealies. There won’t be any hiding behind the door for her. Amy figures it’s worth a shot anyway. If her plan works, it works and she escapes. If not, she gets a stern yelling at and she’s given time to come up with another plan.
She positions herself flat against the wall next to the door and then lets out a loud moan of pain. It doesn’t take much to sound genuine. She gives it all she’s got, hoping she doesn’t sound like she’s trying to pass a kidney stone. The seconds tick by and she begins to wonder if this is a horrible plan.
Before she can have more self-doubts, the doors part with a hiss and young man dressed in military fatigues enters the room. He surveys the room but doesn’t look behind him. Amy grins at her luck.
She smashes the tray down on the soldier’s head, putting a sizeable dent in the metal. The soldier cries out in pain and he stumbles around, dazed. Amy swoops in for another blow and this time she smacks the soldier in the temple. He falls to his knees but he’s not out for the count. Amy takes that as her cue to leave. She dashes out into the corridor, her bare feet slapping against the floor.
Her vision is still out of focus and it feels like the floor is tilting beneath her but she’s out of the room. She takes a right and runs as fast as she able. The corridors are all white, too, and it makes her wonder if she’s aboard a medical ship or inside a hospital.
After a few blind turns, Amy comes upon her first glimpse of the world outside of the white corridors. She finds a porthole in the wall, but instead of looking out at space, she looks down at a darkened hangar. Futuristic fighter jets settle in for a landing while the ground crews scramble around to get their tasks done. The presence of the soldier didn’t really register with her but now she gives it some thought. Why is there an army around? Do they want her daughter for some reason?
Amy decides not to linger. She needs to find a radio or some sort of communication device to contact the Doctor.
She actually thinks she might get out of here.
God, she should know better by now.
A hooded shape practically glides around a blind corner and Amy can’t stop and turn around in time. She barrels into the figure but she doesn’t have enough momentum to knock it down. The thing wraps its arm around her, squeezing her tight. She looks up into the hood, expecting to see a face, but she sees nothing.
The faceless monk drags her back to the room, kicking and screaming.
They remove the shelf and the medical supplies.
Amy thought that would be the end of it; that they would just leave her to rot away in this room. Her captors surprise her, though. First, they give her a change of clothes. It’s nothing fancy, but the unflattering white clothes and canvas shoes are better than a thin medical gown and bare feet. And then they feed her.
Amy doesn’t touch it. It’s not like she believes it’s poisoned, but she’s not their house guest. The soldier continues to arrive each day at the same time anyway and then leaves when he realizes he's not needed.
She can hear Rory in her head, telling her she needs to keep her strength up, but she also doesn’t feel like eating. Her stomach rolls each time she thinks about Eye Patch Lady and her people and what they might be doing to her daughter.
Without a clock, or even a window, the days blur together. She loses track of how many times the soldier arrives with her meals. Instead, Amy spends her time testing the strength of the room. The walls are thick and made from some weird, space age plastic. When she rams her bed against the wall it doesn’t even leave a mark. There’s no chance of her breaking it down.
So that leaves the door. There’s always a guard outside, but just one. They don’t think she’s worth the trouble of two guards.
The soldiers may be stupid but she knows they won’t fall for the same trick twice. She doesn’t have anything to beat them over the head with anyway, just the sink and the toiletries that go with it and the bed. Amy thinks it all over; she has the time. The soldier comes and goes with another meal.
An idea hits her.
She’s waiting by the sink, washing her hands, when the door opens to admit the soldier. He notices her and, as always, offers the tray of food. The meal’s still hot and steam rises up in curls.
Amy dries her hands and smiles at the soldier. He smiles back, but it seems like an automatic response. He shifts nervously.
She reaches for the tray, but instead of taking the plate of food, she sweeps up the nearest utensil. She hoped for a knife. She gets a fork instead.
Amy goes with it and stabs the fork into the soldier’s right hand. He screams out in pain and he drops the tray of food. For good measure, Amy kicks him in the groin. Hard.
By now, the commotion grabs the guard’s attention and he rushes into the room, hands on his gun, but it’s not raised. Amy lunges for the sink and grabs the cup of hot water sitting on the lip. She throws the water into the guard’s face. It’s not scalding hot, just as hot as the tap can run, but it’s hot enough. The guard gasps and his hands immediately go to his face to wipe the water from his eyes.
Amy slips out the door and this time she heads left. She can’t wander aimlessly this time. Any second now she expects to hear a wailing alarm and a computerized voice saying the prisoner has escaped.
At the junction ahead she finally comes upon her first piece of luck. A layout for this section is screwed to the wall. It also gives her the name of her prison. Demon’s Run.
There’s nothing about a nursery, but it does point the way out. Amy doesn’t want to leave this section without her child – it hits her that she hasn’t even thought of a name – but this might be her only chance to escape or to call for help.
The corridor is suddenly plunged into red hued darkness and like she predicted, an alarm sounds. Amy mumbles under her breath and she heads for the exit.
The way out is a lift and she spies it at the end of a long corridor, but the stomp of heavy boots has started up and it’s getting closer. She puts on a burst of speed and in the back of her mind she regrets not eating any of those meals.
The doors to the lift open and three of the faceless monks wait inside. In the darkened corridor, they seem to float towards her. This time Amy has enough traction and she’s able to skid to a halt. Going back the way she’s come is no good, but it’s better than getting another bear hug from a wannabe Dementor.
She makes it back to the medical section without encountering any more monks and ducks into a small alcove. Amy reasons there has to be a set of stairs somewhere. She leaves the alcove and peeks her head out into the corridor. She looks left, then right.
She’s met with a wall of tan coloured fatigues; the front of the jacket soaked with water. Looking up, she meets gazes with the guard who had been standing outside of her room. He glares at her with red rimmed eyes.
Amy tries to make a break for it but he grabs her by the arm and slams her against the wall. Before her senses can clear, he drives the butt of his rifle into her face.
Amy opens her eyes and for a second she thinks she’s back aboard the TARDIS. Rory holds her hand and he stands protectively over her. Behind him, the Doctor paces back and forth, his hands waving in the air as he mutters to himself.
It’s perfect, but it’s not real.
“Why do I keep dreaming you two up?”
The Doctor pivots on his heel mid-stride and walks over to her bedside. “We’re a deep set mental projection,” he says.
“What?” Even a fake Doctor doesn’t make sense.
“You miss us,” Rory translates. He brings their clasped hands up to his chest. His wedding band catches the light and it shines on his finger. Amy’s fingers are noticeable bare. For the first time, she realizes she’s not wearing her wedding ring and she feels a lump form in her throat. She keeps losing everything precious to them.
“We’re coming,” says Rory and he squeezes her hand. “Just keep giving them hell. Do it for our daughter.”
“A trio of Ponds.” The Doctor grins at the thought.
“You make us sound like we’re a band.”
This Rory isn’t real, but Amy needs to talk to him all the same. She pulls her husband closer. “She needs a name.”
Rory leans down and kisses her on the forehead. “You’ll think of something.”
When Amy opens her eyes again, she’s not alone, but these people are real. One of the medical staff is shining a light onto her face. Her skin tingles and she can feel her hair standing up on end. She tries not to move, to let on that she’s awake, and she does her best to take in the situation by just roving her gaze around the room.
The figures in white roam around the room. She counts five, including the one looking at her. Amy doesn’t see a guard but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. There’s no sign of Eye Patch Lady.
They’re keeping her fed and healthy. They need her alive.
The medical staffer switches off the light and turns back to reach for another piece of equipment. Amy could be wrong, but deep down she knows she’s right. She leaps off the bed and wraps her hands around the staffer’s neck.
They tumble to the floor and the staffer ends up kneeling. Amy squeezes her hands and it feels wrong, but she forces herself to stay where she is. “I want to speak to your boss,” she yells at the remaining medical staff. “Now!”
One of them scrambles out of the room while the others just stare in horror. Amy can tell she’s tackled a woman. She doesn’t feel an Adam’s apple bobbing against her fingers. She doesn’t mean the woman any harm, but she sees no other way of grabbing the attention of Eye Patch Lady.
The staff member who ran away quickly returns. They approach slowly, with their right arm held out like they’re holding an invisible shield. Amy notices the metal band around the staffer’s wrist and sure enough the staff member pushes some buttons on the band. A blue light shoots up, forming a holographic image of Eye Patch Lady. She stares at Amy, visible only from the shoulders up, mimicking all the times Amy had seen her in the surfaces of walls and doors.
“Amy Pond.” There’s almost a sing-song quality to the woman’s voice. “There’s no need to strangle my staff.” A slight smile touches her lips.
“Where’s my daughter?” Amy tightens her grip a little more. She wonders if her hapless victim’s face is turning red.
“She’s safe. We’re taking good care of her.”
“Let me see her.”
The smile disappears. “I can’t do that.”
“If you don’t let me see her, I’ll choke this woman to death.”
“You won’t. You and I both know it.”
Amy wants to, she so wants to. These people can’t take her child away from her without consequences. But she kills this woman and then what? She kills another and another until someone listens? That’s not the way to solve this. That isn’t the Doctor’s way and it isn’t her way either.
She lets out a breath and releases her hold. The medical staffer crawls away on her hands and knees.
“Good,” says Eye Patch Lady, like she’s a teacher praising a student. “This doesn’t have to be difficult. We can live in harmony.”
“Yeah, right,” scoffs Amy. “Just wait until the Doctor gets here.”
Eye Patch Lady doesn’t bat an eye at the mention of the Doctor. Amy doesn’t like that one bit. “Are we quite done?”
“No.” She steps towards the hologram and the staffer holding it up takes a step back. Eye Patch Lady looks bored. “My daughter. Her name. I want you to remember it.”
The woman’s singular eye narrows. “Why?”
“Because she’s the reason you’re going to lose. The Doctor’s not just coming for me. Her name’s Melody Pond.”
The hologram shuts off.
Tags:
