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Fanfic. A World of Imagination (Doctor Who)
A World of Imagination (PG, Gen; Amy Pond; The life of a companion isn't easy, especially when you've run away with your imaginary friend. I don't own any of these characters, I'm just borrowing for a tiny bit of fun.) Vague spoilers for the first few episodes of Series 5.
A World of Imagination
It’s an unmistakable feeling.
That feeling in the pit of your stomach, the one that reminds Amy that she’s taking the easy way out. Running away from something she shouldn’t be running from; running towards something she shouldn’t.
And here she is, sitting on the floor in the library of a real time machine disguised as a phone box. Sadly, there’s no pool to be seen, although she’s already informed the Doctor that she’s going to find it, no matter how long it takes. One of the benefits of a time machine, clearly.
It’s a goal that occasionally disguises that sinking feeling in her stomach, the butterflies that rise up, causing a flurry of excitement and dread whenever she remembers the dress that was hanging on her closet door – a dress she always imagined and never thought she’d wear. A dress she’s not sure when she would wear now. A long time ago – or a long time from now – tomorrow or yesterday.
She’s begun to lose track.
She can’t bring herself to bring it up.
Every time she tries, the words catch in her throat, and it’s all his fault.
His smile, his enthusiasm, whisk her away into other times and places that she could never possibly hope to imagine and they’re all real and there ready to be explored. At the back of her mind, she reminds herself that they’re not real, that she doesn’t belong there and she has a real life and real commitments back home – until suddenly she forgets all over again.
Sometimes she wonders if that makes her a bad person.
She waited for so long. Fourteen years of her life, waiting in a world of imagination. Waiting for that impossible man, the Doctor, and his magical blue box.
The madman in her kitchen, sitting food all over the place.
Even now, watching him pull books off the shelf – books written in alien languages, all translated by the TARDIS, on topics beyond her imagination – she can’t help but wonder why she would ever leave.
A World of Imagination
It’s an unmistakable feeling.
That feeling in the pit of your stomach, the one that reminds Amy that she’s taking the easy way out. Running away from something she shouldn’t be running from; running towards something she shouldn’t.
And here she is, sitting on the floor in the library of a real time machine disguised as a phone box. Sadly, there’s no pool to be seen, although she’s already informed the Doctor that she’s going to find it, no matter how long it takes. One of the benefits of a time machine, clearly.
It’s a goal that occasionally disguises that sinking feeling in her stomach, the butterflies that rise up, causing a flurry of excitement and dread whenever she remembers the dress that was hanging on her closet door – a dress she always imagined and never thought she’d wear. A dress she’s not sure when she would wear now. A long time ago – or a long time from now – tomorrow or yesterday.
She’s begun to lose track.
She can’t bring herself to bring it up.
Every time she tries, the words catch in her throat, and it’s all his fault.
His smile, his enthusiasm, whisk her away into other times and places that she could never possibly hope to imagine and they’re all real and there ready to be explored. At the back of her mind, she reminds herself that they’re not real, that she doesn’t belong there and she has a real life and real commitments back home – until suddenly she forgets all over again.
Sometimes she wonders if that makes her a bad person.
She waited for so long. Fourteen years of her life, waiting in a world of imagination. Waiting for that impossible man, the Doctor, and his magical blue box.
The madman in her kitchen, sitting food all over the place.
Even now, watching him pull books off the shelf – books written in alien languages, all translated by the TARDIS, on topics beyond her imagination – she can’t help but wonder why she would ever leave.
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