First Stars

FIRST STARS

A DOCTOR WHO FANFICTION

BY

NIGHTFURY OF GALLIFREY

Rating: K

Genre: Angst//Family

Summary: "Have you ever had children?" Had. Past tense. Long gone. Set during "A Good Man Goes to War"

Characters: Eleventh Doctor, Amelia Pond, Rory Williams, Melody Pond

Ship: Light Amy/Rory

Status: Complete

Current Chapter/Word Count: One-shot, 1,526

Cautions/Warnings: None

    The Doctor hesitated in front of the door. He fumbled with the key in the lock, still not sure he wanted to open the door. But still, Melody needed a place to sleep. Amy couldn’t hold her the entire time they tried to figure out what Demon’s Run was for.

    He unlocked the door. He placed his hand on the knob, clenching it.

    Even before, he’d rarely gone into this room. No need. But he hadn’t been inside for years. Not since... not since the destruction. Not since Gallifrey. Not since they... since they...

He shook his head and pushed through into the room.

    And stopped.

    He closed his eyes almost immediately. Come on, Doctor. Pull yourself together, he scolded himself. He opened his eyes and made a beeline to the corner he knew the cradle would be in. He tried not to see the other objects in the room, the memories. He picked up the cradle, memories flashing in front of his eyes as soon as he touched it.

     He wondered if humans ever experienced such vivid flashbacks, or if it were a Time Lord thing.

   He shook his head again and carried the cradle through the door back into the hallway of the TARDIS. He set it down and closed the door, locking it again. He slid the key into his pocket and rested his head against the closed door, closing his eyes, trying to compose himself.

    The TARDIS made a soft moaning sound, as if she tried to comfort him in his grief. The Doctor looked up and smiled wearily. “Thanks, old girl.”

    He picked up the cradle again and walked through the halls, down into the main control room. The TARDIS had seemed to know when she “regenerated” herself that he wanted that particular room as far away as possible from where he would usually be. Good old girl. Always knew the best.

    The Doctor heard the voices outside the TARDIS as he tried not to bang the cradle into the control panel. He suppressed a smirk as he heard Amy and Strax arguing over what it was Melody wanted. But they couldn’t speak baby.

    “She’s not hungry, she’s tired,” The Doctor called as he pushed his way through the TARDIS doors, arms laden. He set the cradle down in front of the Ponds. “Sorry, Melody, they’re just not listening.”

    “What’s this, Melody?” Amy cooed. She smiled at her baby.

    The Doctor smiled. “Very pretty, according to your daughter.”

    “It’s uh, it’s a cot,” Rory said, looking at the Doctor.

    The Doctor looked away, hoping and praying they wouldn’t ask the question. “No flies on the Roman.”

    Amy laughed.

    The Doctor smiled over at little Melody Pond. “Give her here.” He reached over the cradle and Amy handed the tiny bundle to him. “Hey!” He beamed down at the little bundle of precious life. “Hello.”

    Melody cooed.

    “But where would you get a cot?” Rory asked.

    The Doctor pretended not to hear him, trying to fight back the memories that flashed before his eyes as he held a newborn child in his arms.

    “It’s old,” Amy said, looking the cradle over. “Really old.”

    “Doctor, it’s a boy.” The midwife beamed at him. The Doctor felt a chill as he was handed the precious bundle of life. He sat down next to his wife on the bed. She smiled, her beautiful smile that also sent chills through him.

    “Doctor, um,” Amy said, watching him closely. The Doctor looked up at her. “Do you... do you have children?”

    The Doctor looked away, back down at Melody in the cradle, this time a precious girl.

    The Doctor reached down, letting the little girl grab his pinky finger. She pulled it towards her mouth, sucking on it. The Doctor laughed, full of joy as he watched the beautiful week-old girl.

    The Doctor struggled to keep himself controlled. He paused for a long time. “No.”

    “Have you ever had children?”

    Had.

    Had.

    Past tense.

    Long gone.

    Melody cooed. The Doctor tried to shake off the memories and concentrate on the precious life here, not the ones... long gone.

    Melody made a noise somewhere between a raspberry and a coo. The Doctor stood up, and reached a hand up to his hair. “No, no, it’s real. It’s my hair.”

    Amy chuckled, then tried a different approach. She looked down at the cradle, then back up at the Doctor, her voice bordering on demanding. “Who slept in here?”

    The Doctor stared at the cradle, at Melody.

    “Doctor, we need you in the main control room.”  Madame Vashtra’s voice came over the loudspeakers.

    “Be right there!” The Doctor shouted. He turned to Amy and clapped his hands once. “Things to do. I’ve still got to work out what this base is for.” He pointed at Rory. “We can’t leave til we know.”

    The Doctor started walking away. Amy followed after him. “Um, but this is where I was?”

    The Doctor turned back to face her.

    “The whole time I thought I was on the TARDIS, I was really here?” Amy asked.

    The Doctor glanced down. “Uh... Centurion, permission to hug?”

    Rory held up a finger. “Be aware, I do have a sword.”

    Amy laughed softly.

    The Doctor nodded. “At all times.” He saluted Rory and moved in to give Amy a hug. She squeezed him back. “You were in the TARDIS, too,” The Doctor said. “Your heart, your mind, your soul. But physically, yes, you were still in this place.”

    “And when I saw that face looking through the hatch- that woman looking at me...”

    “Reality bleeding through,” the Doctor explained. “They must have taken you quite a while back, just before America.”

    “That’s probably enough hugging now,” Rory broke in.

    The Doctor gave Rory a thumbs-up and pulled back, straightening his coat.

    “So her flesh avatar was with us that whole time?” Rory asked. Amy and the Doctor walked back over to him by the cradle. The Doctor clapped Rory on the shoulder. “But that means they were projecting a control signal right into the TARDIS, wherever we were in time and space.”

    Melody fussed. The Doctor reached down and stroked her hand. “Yeah, they’re very clever.”

    “Who are?” Amy asked.

    “Whoever wants our baby,” Rory said, looking at his wife.

    Our baby. Our baby. The words flowed back. How many hundreds of years had it been since they were spoken?

    “But why do they want her?” Amy asked, fear creeping into her voice.

    The Doctor snapped out of the memory. “Exactly.” He looked at the Ponds.

    Rory leaned closer. “Is there anything you’re not telling us?”

    The Doctor looked at him and smiled.

    Rory continued, “You knew Amy wasn’t real, and you never said.”

    The Doctor shifted. “Well, I couldn’t be sure they weren’t listening.” He moved away from the cradle’s side... he never wanted to leave the cradle unattended. Even in the middle of the night.

    “But you always hold out on us,” Amy called, her voice accusing. “Please not this time, Doctor, it’s our baby.”

    The Doctor stopped and turned around again.

    “Tell us something,” Amy continued. “One little thing.”

    The Doctor pushed aside all doubts and fears he had, he couldn’t tell Amy and Rory much more about now. About the past?

    He couldn’t. He couldn’t ever return to the past.

    “It’s mine,” he said, bouncing the slightest bit on his heels.

    The Ponds looked at him, confusion in their features. “What is?” Rory asked.

    “The cot,” The Doctor said. “It’s my cot.” He pointed at the cradle where Melody now lay. He bit his lip and swallowed. “I slept in there.”

    It was true.

    But he couldn’t tell them who else slept in there.

    Melody cooed. The Doctor turned and started walking away.

    Behind him, he could hear Amy’s little half-laugh as she toyed with the stars that hung down in a mobile over the cradle. “The Doctor’s first stars.”

    His first stars.

    And his son’s first stars. Both of his sons.

    And his daughter’s first stars. All three of his daughters.

    And his granddaughter’s. And his four grandson’s.

   The Doctor’s throat constricted and he was thankful no one was watching him. He kept walking towards the main control room, keeping his head down. Always on the move. Never stopping. Never letting anyone see inside him.

    He remembered another daughter. One who hadn’t slept in the cradle, one whose first stars weren’t the same ones as him.

    Jenny never got to see the stars.

    He remembered Messaline. Remembered rejecting Jenny at first, because she had reminded him so much. Of his children. Of his grandchildren. The lives that were so full of promise; the lives cut short.

    He tried not to think of why they had been cut short.

    In the end, he realized. Jenny, his wife, and his children and grandchildren.  They had all ended because of one man, one man had caused their death. The death that should never befall a Time Lord, especially not ones so young.

    He closed his eyes and shook his head. Treasure your first stars, Melody. Because you never know when they will be taken from you.