33) Five Minutes
Mar. 4th, 2014 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starjargonJust five minutes.
Rory had never asked the Doctor for anything before.
Well, almost never.
And he still felt the guilt- heavy in his hearts at the most inopportune times, when he noticed how River would always hold back, just the tiniest bit, from fully embracing her father the way she did her mother.
He owed them both so much.
Rory had saved his life. Again.
River had saved him in so many times, in so many ways.
And time was not the boss of him.
Not even this time. Well- he wouldn’t let it be.
It took weeks of coordination. Exact calculations and interrogations from a very secretive wife who was always so reluctant to help him when he tried to work around spoilers. But he would just remember, that oh so painful night, when he’d walked in on one of the strongest men he’d ever met, weeping pitifully- broken and bereft. The Doctor hadn’t meant to interrupt what was obviously meant to be a very private moment.
He once promised his precious Amelia five minutes. She was still waiting for him to make good on that. And he would. But, he realized he owed the man she’d waited with just the same. So after nights and nights of planning, he did it.
Rory usually was up before his wife, coming downstairs to try to make small talk with the Doctor, helping with the odd task under the console, or patching up River when one of their nightly adventures had gone awry.
One morning, when Rory made his way down the stairs far too early and unable to sleep, the Doctor was waiting for him in the console room. He’d parked the TARDIS invisibly, and without a sound, using the blue boringers he only bothered with when River made him. He looked solemn as he caught the Centurion’s gaze, silently holding up a uniform and a hat that made Rory look at him questioningly. The Doctor then turned the outer monitor to him, and Rory’s eyebrows shot up, his breathing quickened, and he looked at his friend with a mixture of hope and doubt.
“How-“
“You’ll only have about one minute each time, but you’ll have those minutes. The hat works as a perception filter. Should be fine as long as you go quietly and don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“Will you-“
“No. These are your moments.”
The Roman met the Time Lord’s eyes, their shared age and grief passing between them, before he eagerly grabbed the uniform and went to go change.
When he came back, he put the hat on, his features changed from ordinary to completely unmemorable. He looked at the Doctor, gave him a quick nod of thanks then turned quickly to the doors. He paused, taking very deep breaths and steeling himself, before keeping his hands on the handle as he asked the man behind him, “What do I do?”
The Doctor stared at the back of his head, a grim smile lifting one side of his mouth.
“Make these minutes count.”
He didn’t say anything when he went back into the TARDIS, and the Doctor gave him a simple nod of his head before rerouting them, sending Rory back to the wardrobe to change.
This time, the uniform looked different as he once more made his way to the doors, pushing his way out into a dreary orphanage. The
little girl on the bed was shaking in fear, unable to wake from the nightmare that had her rocking out crying, “Somebody. Please.
Somebody come for me.”
His heart broke as he nearly ran to her, falling to her side at her distress. He’d brought a teddy bear with him this time, little consolation to the small child who would grow up so very alone. He gathered her gently in his embrace, once more whispering calming, sacred words to the small child, until he felt her body relax in his arms, face peaceful as he wrapped her arms around his meager offering, once more kissing her ear before repeating his precious eight words to the little girl who would have to brave the rest of her nightmares without him.
He very nearly lost it when they next landed on the streets of New York, his now slightly older daugher curled up in a ball and shivering. He wrapped a small sweater around her, hugging her tightly to his body until her shaking stopped, kissing her forehead and telling the sleeping child all the things he knew she justly deserved to hear from her daddy. Once more, he very, very begrudgingly laid her down. Once more, he left her with the whispered phrase and a kiss on her ear.
She was the Mels he’d first met next. Younger than he’d ever seen, but even at this age he could sense the attitude and stubborn determination from his would- be best friend and daughter. The group home she’d temporarily landed in seemed warm enough, if a little unfriendly. The dirt he gently rubbed off her face and swollen, slightly bleeding lip made him think she’d only just been brought here today after an one of her inevitable fights.
Oh, Mels.
He cleaned her cheek and lip as best he could, smoothing her hair even as he pulled her head lovingly to his chest, rubbing her back soothingly as he watched her tiny body, tense even in sleep, finally loosen up just a bit. Laying a kiss on her ear and whispering his eight- word mantra, he left his little fighter free to battle her way into his life.
He remembered this night. The three of them had quarreled, fuelled by teenage passion and irrationality. Not to mention his girls’ inherent stubbornness. Words were thrown carelessly, aimed to pierce and always finding their target.
Mels had declared she didn’t need them. She didn’t need anyone.
He had thought she had overreacted in fury. But now, as he saw her balled up, tear tracks that he knew were absent when she was awake marring her face, he realized how hurt they had left her that day. He was more careful this time, knowing she was the fully trained weapon she’d been transformed into.
He simply grabbed a small blanket from the edge of the bed, covering her anxious body, taught with sadness, anger, and pain, his thumb gently wiping the tears from his daughter’s cheek. This time she stirred ever so gently into his hand, seeking the comfort he offered. He knew this would be his last privileged visit like this, so it was with the greatest conviction that he spoke his message one last time, kissing her ear and smiling as he looked one final moment at his young daughter’s face.
Rory was emotionally exhausted when the TARDIS at last left his child to her fate, always to cross, barely to run with his own. He walked heavily into the console room, too confused and wound up to go back to bed.
“Thank you.” He looked the Doctor gratefully in the eyes as he spoke steadfastly to the Time Lord.
The Doctor stared at his grave face, full of appreciation, sadness, and yet joy at what the minutes had brought.
“You’re welcome,” replied the Doctor, who in all reality had been too cowardly each time to follow the nurse through those doors.
Rory wondered if he had changed anything for Melody. If he had offered her any comfort at all, or if he was just a dream to her, lovely and fleeting. He wondered if he shouldn’t have just taken her from the beginning, rewriting time and moulding her childhood into the way it should be- with a proper father who was there not just minutes but whole moments of her life. Who comforted her after every bad day and chased away every nightmare. Who made sure she was never cold or hungry or scared or alone. Whose legacy to her was more than 8 whispered words he was positive she would never remember.
Rory made his way to the med bay, deciding he’d read up on a few medical journals to give his mind something else to think about other than the should have/ could have/ would haves of his morning. He was in the middle of one such journal, when the adrenaline left him, and he felt himself doze off suddenly very, very tired.
River was looking around for her father, ready to offer him an ear and a shoulder to cry on after hearing what her husband had done for him. For them. She found him sitting uncomfortably in a chair, his head at an awkward angle and tears dried on his face.
She sighed in sympathy when she saw him, putting an arm around him as she lifted him the short distance to the cot next to the chair, laying him down gently before grabbing a cover, placing it over his very exhausted body. She lightly smoothed back his hair from his face, smiling down at her father.
Then she leaned over and kissed his ear, before she whispered to him firmly yet quietly, “Dad. I love you stronger than time itself.”
Rory had never asked the Doctor for anything before.
Well, almost never.
And he still felt the guilt- heavy in his hearts at the most inopportune times, when he noticed how River would always hold back, just the tiniest bit, from fully embracing her father the way she did her mother.
He owed them both so much.
Rory had saved his life. Again.
River had saved him in so many times, in so many ways.
And time was not the boss of him.
Not even this time. Well- he wouldn’t let it be.
It took weeks of coordination. Exact calculations and interrogations from a very secretive wife who was always so reluctant to help him when he tried to work around spoilers. But he would just remember, that oh so painful night, when he’d walked in on one of the strongest men he’d ever met, weeping pitifully- broken and bereft. The Doctor hadn’t meant to interrupt what was obviously meant to be a very private moment.
He once promised his precious Amelia five minutes. She was still waiting for him to make good on that. And he would. But, he realized he owed the man she’d waited with just the same. So after nights and nights of planning, he did it.
Rory usually was up before his wife, coming downstairs to try to make small talk with the Doctor, helping with the odd task under the console, or patching up River when one of their nightly adventures had gone awry.
One morning, when Rory made his way down the stairs far too early and unable to sleep, the Doctor was waiting for him in the console room. He’d parked the TARDIS invisibly, and without a sound, using the blue boringers he only bothered with when River made him. He looked solemn as he caught the Centurion’s gaze, silently holding up a uniform and a hat that made Rory look at him questioningly. The Doctor then turned the outer monitor to him, and Rory’s eyebrows shot up, his breathing quickened, and he looked at his friend with a mixture of hope and doubt.
“How-“
“You’ll only have about one minute each time, but you’ll have those minutes. The hat works as a perception filter. Should be fine as long as you go quietly and don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“Will you-“
“No. These are your moments.”
The Roman met the Time Lord’s eyes, their shared age and grief passing between them, before he eagerly grabbed the uniform and went to go change.
When he came back, he put the hat on, his features changed from ordinary to completely unmemorable. He looked at the Doctor, gave him a quick nod of thanks then turned quickly to the doors. He paused, taking very deep breaths and steeling himself, before keeping his hands on the handle as he asked the man behind him, “What do I do?”
The Doctor stared at the back of his head, a grim smile lifting one side of his mouth.
“Make these minutes count.”
Rory walked out into the hall, saluting the soldier at the door before opening it and entering the small room quietly. He only briefly took in the sparse décor, the unfeeling walls, the mentally stimulating images hanging over his destination.
She was crying quietly as he made his way over to her, not yet loud enough to draw in whatever caretaker had been assigned his baby girl. She was just as beautiful and miraculous as he remembered. He picked her up, cherishing the small weight in his arms.
Make these minutes count.
He rocked her gently, hugging her tightly to his body, soothing her back to sleep the way he should have been allowed to every time she needed him. He took precious moments, memorizing all the changes in her small body from the one time he’d held her facsimile. She had more hair now, and was ever so slightly heavier in his hands. Longer too. She smelled lovely, like new and fresh and baby powder. And right before they closed, those eyes locked onto his, those beautiful, trusting, innocent eyes that somehow seemed to remember him. He refused to cry this time, not wanting to miss any details of her through tears.
Much too soon, remembering the Doctor’s warning, he gathered every ounce of willpower and reached to put his now- sleeping daughter back, to leave her where she would once more be rocked by other hands, soothed by words of people who had no right to her and who would never love her the way she deserved and who would never, even if she did have a few moments of affection and attention, ever be
him.
Before he laid her down one last time, he leaned his head and whispered in her ear, secrets between a baby girl and the man who would move universes if she wanted him to, even as his mind rewound to the grown woman he’d come to admire and love who had once begged another not to change a moment of her life. After whispering to his beloved infant, he kissed the tip of her perfect ear, eight words of promise his last goodbye.
She was crying quietly as he made his way over to her, not yet loud enough to draw in whatever caretaker had been assigned his baby girl. She was just as beautiful and miraculous as he remembered. He picked her up, cherishing the small weight in his arms.
Make these minutes count.
He rocked her gently, hugging her tightly to his body, soothing her back to sleep the way he should have been allowed to every time she needed him. He took precious moments, memorizing all the changes in her small body from the one time he’d held her facsimile. She had more hair now, and was ever so slightly heavier in his hands. Longer too. She smelled lovely, like new and fresh and baby powder. And right before they closed, those eyes locked onto his, those beautiful, trusting, innocent eyes that somehow seemed to remember him. He refused to cry this time, not wanting to miss any details of her through tears.
Much too soon, remembering the Doctor’s warning, he gathered every ounce of willpower and reached to put his now- sleeping daughter back, to leave her where she would once more be rocked by other hands, soothed by words of people who had no right to her and who would never love her the way she deserved and who would never, even if she did have a few moments of affection and attention, ever be
him.
Before he laid her down one last time, he leaned his head and whispered in her ear, secrets between a baby girl and the man who would move universes if she wanted him to, even as his mind rewound to the grown woman he’d come to admire and love who had once begged another not to change a moment of her life. After whispering to his beloved infant, he kissed the tip of her perfect ear, eight words of promise his last goodbye.
He didn’t say anything when he went back into the TARDIS, and the Doctor gave him a simple nod of his head before rerouting them, sending Rory back to the wardrobe to change.
This time, the uniform looked different as he once more made his way to the doors, pushing his way out into a dreary orphanage. The
little girl on the bed was shaking in fear, unable to wake from the nightmare that had her rocking out crying, “Somebody. Please.
Somebody come for me.”
His heart broke as he nearly ran to her, falling to her side at her distress. He’d brought a teddy bear with him this time, little consolation to the small child who would grow up so very alone. He gathered her gently in his embrace, once more whispering calming, sacred words to the small child, until he felt her body relax in his arms, face peaceful as he wrapped her arms around his meager offering, once more kissing her ear before repeating his precious eight words to the little girl who would have to brave the rest of her nightmares without him.
He very nearly lost it when they next landed on the streets of New York, his now slightly older daugher curled up in a ball and shivering. He wrapped a small sweater around her, hugging her tightly to his body until her shaking stopped, kissing her forehead and telling the sleeping child all the things he knew she justly deserved to hear from her daddy. Once more, he very, very begrudgingly laid her down. Once more, he left her with the whispered phrase and a kiss on her ear.
She was the Mels he’d first met next. Younger than he’d ever seen, but even at this age he could sense the attitude and stubborn determination from his would- be best friend and daughter. The group home she’d temporarily landed in seemed warm enough, if a little unfriendly. The dirt he gently rubbed off her face and swollen, slightly bleeding lip made him think she’d only just been brought here today after an one of her inevitable fights.
Oh, Mels.
He cleaned her cheek and lip as best he could, smoothing her hair even as he pulled her head lovingly to his chest, rubbing her back soothingly as he watched her tiny body, tense even in sleep, finally loosen up just a bit. Laying a kiss on her ear and whispering his eight- word mantra, he left his little fighter free to battle her way into his life.
He remembered this night. The three of them had quarreled, fuelled by teenage passion and irrationality. Not to mention his girls’ inherent stubbornness. Words were thrown carelessly, aimed to pierce and always finding their target.
Mels had declared she didn’t need them. She didn’t need anyone.
He had thought she had overreacted in fury. But now, as he saw her balled up, tear tracks that he knew were absent when she was awake marring her face, he realized how hurt they had left her that day. He was more careful this time, knowing she was the fully trained weapon she’d been transformed into.
He simply grabbed a small blanket from the edge of the bed, covering her anxious body, taught with sadness, anger, and pain, his thumb gently wiping the tears from his daughter’s cheek. This time she stirred ever so gently into his hand, seeking the comfort he offered. He knew this would be his last privileged visit like this, so it was with the greatest conviction that he spoke his message one last time, kissing her ear and smiling as he looked one final moment at his young daughter’s face.
Rory was emotionally exhausted when the TARDIS at last left his child to her fate, always to cross, barely to run with his own. He walked heavily into the console room, too confused and wound up to go back to bed.
“Thank you.” He looked the Doctor gratefully in the eyes as he spoke steadfastly to the Time Lord.
The Doctor stared at his grave face, full of appreciation, sadness, and yet joy at what the minutes had brought.
“You’re welcome,” replied the Doctor, who in all reality had been too cowardly each time to follow the nurse through those doors.
Rory wondered if he had changed anything for Melody. If he had offered her any comfort at all, or if he was just a dream to her, lovely and fleeting. He wondered if he shouldn’t have just taken her from the beginning, rewriting time and moulding her childhood into the way it should be- with a proper father who was there not just minutes but whole moments of her life. Who comforted her after every bad day and chased away every nightmare. Who made sure she was never cold or hungry or scared or alone. Whose legacy to her was more than 8 whispered words he was positive she would never remember.
Rory made his way to the med bay, deciding he’d read up on a few medical journals to give his mind something else to think about other than the should have/ could have/ would haves of his morning. He was in the middle of one such journal, when the adrenaline left him, and he felt himself doze off suddenly very, very tired.
River was looking around for her father, ready to offer him an ear and a shoulder to cry on after hearing what her husband had done for him. For them. She found him sitting uncomfortably in a chair, his head at an awkward angle and tears dried on his face.
She sighed in sympathy when she saw him, putting an arm around him as she lifted him the short distance to the cot next to the chair, laying him down gently before grabbing a cover, placing it over his very exhausted body. She lightly smoothed back his hair from his face, smiling down at her father.
Then she leaned over and kissed his ear, before she whispered to him firmly yet quietly, “Dad. I love you stronger than time itself.”
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Date: 2014-03-06 11:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-10 09:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-28 12:54 am (UTC)I'm just gonna have to stop reading all of your awesome stuff for today, I don't know if I can assimilate any more headcanon in the space of 4 hours!
You write all of these characters so perfectly, and put them in situations that are so believable and noncon to canon, and I fall in love with every single one of them. I literally have not read one thing that you've written that didn't make me want to gush for ten paragraphs about how wonderful it is. You are very very very very VERY talented.
That is all. ;) ::glomp::
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Date: 2014-04-02 05:11 am (UTC)~Will definitely respond to this tomorrow!
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Date: 2014-04-03 04:04 am (UTC)Thank you, really.