#young!amy

[quietwings-fics]

the scariest thing here

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: ElevenSimm Additional Tags: Episode AU: s05e01 The Eleventh Hour (Doctor Who), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Young Amelia Pond, First Meetings Wordcount: 1003 Summary:

Two men end up crawling out of the blue box that crashes into Amelia's garden.

Prompt:

"Hmm… 11Simm, Simm is around for his Baking Period instead of going back to the war, and this affects our Doctor."

Amelia Pond remembers, a few months ago, when it rained so hard that the streets outside of school flooded. It hadn’t been so bad, even though no one had come to pick her up so Mels had promised Rory when his dad came, “Don’t worry, I’ll walk her home.” By then, his dad’s car was already making huge waves as it drove away. Neither of them had an umbrella or raincoats, so they’d sprinted between trees and bus stops as it continued to pour down. The streets became rivers, and when they caught their breath on Amelia’s front porch, they’d turned back to look at the unrecognizable world of their neighborhood almost underwater. Mels’ cold, wet hand in hers, Amelia had watched two rats swimming across the street, scrabbling over each other with tiny splashes and biting their tails to stay together until they got to the other side.

Anyway, that’s why she thinks Mels would understand her letting the men from the blue box into her house once she saw that they were soaking wet and why Rory would probably tell her she shouldn’t try to pick up rats because they might have rabies.

“If he’s the Doctor,” says Amelia to the man who stole all of the Doctor’s leftovers, (or was it stealing when no one wanted them?) “then who are you?” She’s been thinking of him as the rude Doctor, seeing as they both came from the same box, but that might be unfair. To the Doctor. She can’t just go assuming two men from the same box share a name.

“The Master,” he tells her, shortly. Amelia squints up at him.

Amelia doesn’t care much about politics because her aunt doesn’t care much about politics. Still, there are all these newspapers that someone must have bought that sit in the lounge and they both forget to clean up.

“Why do you look like the Prime Minister?” At that, the Master grins. His teeth are too sharp.

“Because I ate him.” Amelia wrinkles her nose at him. He’s going to have to try harder. Mels is much better at scaring her than he is.

“Stop that,” the Doctor tells him. “She’s-” He looks over Amelia curiously and guesses. “…Five?”

“I’m eight,” Amelia corrects and stands a little taller.

“She’s eight, and there’s a nasty crack in her wall that’s scaring her enough. You don’t need to make it worse.” The Master huffs and crosses his arms, but he does glance down at her again. She doesn’t think he’s decided to be nice, exactly, but maybe that he’s decided even if he isn’t lying and he does eat people, that Amelia wouldn’t be very tasty. He extends a hand to pat her on the head, and Amelia bites at it. She doesn’t manage to get him, but he snaps his hand back. He grins at her.

“She should be scared. I’m surprised she’s even still here.” Amelia frowns at him the same time the Doctor does.

“What do you mean?”

“Explain that, Master,” the Doctor’s voice flips from fun to serious very easily. She likes that about him. Most adults never use their serious voices around Amelia, only the fun ones, even when they have bad news to deliver.

“You’re counting the doors, Doctor. I’m counting the bedrooms.”

“So?”

“Amelia, you said you only live with your aunt?” the Master asks, pointedly. Amelia scowls at him, even though a part of her is delighted that they were paying attention to what she said.

“Yes.”

“So, why,” he emphasizes, “are there too many beds in this house?” The Doctor stops examining the crack and turns to him. Amelia watches a wave of something awful wash over his face. It makes her squirm, and despite herself, grab onto the Master’s hoodie.

“Oh, Amelia,” the Doctor says, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” She doesn’t like it, any of it, not the crack and not the feeling in the pit of her stomach that something’s gone terribly wrong. She doesn’t know what it is, but she knows- She knows- She can’t remember why she’s crying. The Master’s hoodie is grimy enough already, so she sticks her nose in it to wipe her face clean. He smells like a wet dog.

“First things first,” the Doctor says, “whatever was in the crack is now out of the crack.”

“I know. I can smell it.”

“So, we take care of that. Amelia,” he addresses her again. Amelia pulls her face out of the Master’s hoodie to look at the Doctor. “Do you mind if I pick you up?” Amelia is too big to be picked up anymore, at least by her aunt. Still, she nods. “Good. I’m going to put you in the safest place I know.” The Doctor picks Amelia up easily, like she would pick up one of her stuffed animals, and then deposits her, without hesitating, into the Master’s arms as he protests.

“I don’t want her. Take her back.” Amy wriggles, but despite that, he doesn’t drop her.

“I wasn’t lying. Whatever prisoner zero is—I’m working on it—you’re far more dangerous.” At that, the Master hums, pleased with himself. Amelia thinks the Doctor might be even more mad than she’d assumed. “Which also makes you safe.”

The thing is, Amelia thinks, the Doctor isn’t wrong. She looks at the crack, and she looks out her bedroom door down the hall they say contains a monster, and nothing scares her.

“It’s a little early for us to adopt,” the Master mutters.

“Sorry, can’t hear you. Too busy hunting an intergalactic fugitive. You’d know all about that. Amelia, did you know he’s wanted dead or alive in over two hundred galaxies? In multiple time periods.” Amelia looks at the Master for confirmation.

“Two hundred and fifty-three,” he says.

“What’d you do?”

“Everything.” He carries Amelia out, following the Doctor, and only gets interrupted telling her a story she’s not sure she believes about taking over an entire planet when the monster shows itself.

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[quietwings-fics]

tent

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: Gen (Amy & Mels & Rory) Additional Tags: Camping, Platonic Cuddling, Puppy Piles, Pond Family Feels (Doctor Who), Young Amelia Pond, Young Rory Williams, Young River Song, Drabble Wordcount: 100 Summary:

Amy & Rory & Mels and the childhood camping trip (in Rory's backyard.)

“You should come into the tent now,” Rory says, poking his head from the flap. “It’s getting really late.” And cold. He can see Amy shivering in her pajamas. Not Mels, though; Mels never gets cold.

Amy looks through the telescope one last time, her face screwed up in a way that hurts. Mels nudges her shoulder. “Come on.”

Rory retreats into the tent. His dad set it up for them, just roomy enough for three, though they don’t use that room much. Amy falls asleep laying mostly on him, and Mels curls on his other side, holding Amy’s hand.

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[quietwings-fics]

the smallest of companions

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: Gen (Amy & Eleven) Additional Tags: Protective Doctor (Doctor Who), Alternate Universe, Young Amelia Pond, Amelia Pond Traveling The Stars, Drabble Wordcount: 100 Podfic Length: 00:55 Summary:

There's a lot of running involved, which is usually fine for companions who are adult-sized.

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This has never been a problem before, but then, the Doctor has never had a companion whose legs were so tiny.

One moment, Amelia is on his heels. The next, he looks back to see her at the end of the hallway. His screwdriver is in one hand, unlocking the door, but she won’t make it.

The Doctor careens back down the hall, screwdriver between his teeth as he scoops her up, and runs.

A bolt of energy clips his ear. He tucks Amelia’s head down.

“You need longer limbs,” he tells her, “or heelys.” Amelia, safe and sound, laughs.

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[fcrgivcn]

c l o s ed || Don't you remember me?

¡Esto en definitiva es fantástico! -- Exclamó la rubia, con el obvio sarcasmo haciéndose presente en su aguda voz. Después de tanto tiempo, justamente cuando aquella casa donde solía pasar sus veranos ya no le resultaba tan importante, su padre tenía la maravillosa idea de volver. ¿Por qué? Pues bueno, porque sí y ya. Bufó y se tiró en aquél sofá que se encontraba sobre el aire gracias a que estaba siendo sostenido por unas ¿cuerdas? ni idea, ella no se recordaba del todo bien, pero estaban junto al techo.

pringlespartyx

[fcrgivcn]

O P E N

--¡Deja de negarlo! Es totalmente gracioso--.

[turq-8-blog]

Oh, the things you notice when watching an episode of Doctor Who for the umpteenth time.  This is from The Big Bang.  Just the fact that they would even think to have him there for a split second for those with sharp eyes (or who watch over and over), it reminds me why I adore this show.