The Doctor sat in the TARDIS alone.
Well, he wasn’t really alone, but at that point he might have been, and nothing would have been different from now. Technically, Amy was there too, but not the Amy she used to know: the joyful, excited, soon-to-be-married Amy Pond; the impossible Amelia. Since the cracks ate Rory, she wasn’t the same any more. Yes, she was still over-excited when he took her off to have adventures and the awful lot of running thing, but he knew that wasn’t really her. She wasn’t completely there; his Amelia.He could see her sometimes, when she was probably thinking he was somewhere else, being so sad and crying without reason, apparently. She was just so unhappy, only, she didn’t know why. ‘And this is just tragic’, he thought. “Sure, what just happened with Van Gogh doesn’t help her, right”, he murmured to himself.
He stood up and started pulling random levers. “Sooo”, he yelled at Amy, hidden in there, somewhere, “where do you want to go? A trip in the future? I’m thinking… first human marrying an alien! How would you like it? You should see the papers! Oh, and the wedding! Beautiful! So much for the Royal Weddings”. The Doctor gave an annoyed look to the Blue Boringers before starting to speak again. “Or… Harena! Beautiful planet! It’s made entirely of sand!”, he made a gesture with his hands. “Big time for a sand’s fan, uh? You’re going to love it!”. He jumped, smiling. “Or… you know, we could go anywhere else you want. Name it!”.
It was on the tip of her tongue. She had several times caught herself on the verge of speaking a word or a name and yet just as the sound would have left her mouth, the name left her mind. It was infuriating. It felt like when singing the lyrics to a song and one word in the chorus gets away from you…and it’s a word you know you’ve said hundreds of times before and always remember- except now. It was a word so familiar that is should be the easiest thing to say and yet every time she tired, Amy found herself stuck with her mouth slightly open making a strange fish face, trying to force the sound out.
She hadn’t always felt this way. As far as she could remember, this feeling that had only been present in the last couple of weeks. It was a strange, horrible feeling that left her sad for no reason and incomplete. Most times she could herself talking to an empty room- telling jokes, asking questions, giving opinions on things- only to have no one answer. But why should someone? Amy mused. She’d always been alone. What had changed? Why, every time that she spoke aloud, did she expect an answer from someone other than the Doctor? Something was missing, something important, something that if she thought too hard about gave her a massive headache. Something that, without it, she wasn’t truly living.
What am I saying? Of course I’m truly living! She thought of her home in the TARDIS, of what she had seen and done. I’m living more than any other people on earth. I’m living most people’s dream.
Snapping herself out of her mind and its puzzling thoughts, Amy shook her head, hoping that like erasing an etch-a-sketch, her thought would be cleared and she could start again without freaking herself out with stuff she couldn’t even put words to. She realized then that she had been standing in the corridor of the TARDIS just outside the control room in her daze. She could hear the Doctor moving around and talking to himself…or perhaps to her. She was never really sure. Just because she wasn’t in the room didn’t mean he wouldn’t be running his mouth about something. She entered the room and leaned against the doorway, an amused expression on her face.
“Harena! Sand. Brilliant,” she agreed, watching him buttons and twist knobs, wondering if they actually did anything or he was just showing off.