|Amy (such_heights) wrote,|
@ 2011-11-01 12:41 am UTC
|Entry tags:||character: amy pond, character: rory williams, character: the doctor, fic, fic: doctor who|
Doctor Who ; Amy, Eleven, Rory ; PG ; no content notes ; 1200 words ; also at the AO3
Rory doesn't seem quite able to see why it is that they want him around, as though he doesn't know how much he is loved.
I blame pocketmouse entirely. Title from hellogoodbye.
It's been three days since Rory was kidnapped, and the Doctor feels relief rush through his whole body when the guard Amy's holding at blaster-point visibly decides that he is not paid enough for this and unlocks the cell. Rory stumbles out, looking a little stiff and squinting in the bright light but otherwise apparently no worse for wear.
"Oh thank god," says Amy, dropping her gun to the ground and running over to wrap him up in a hug. "Are you hurt? What did they do?"
"I'm fine," Rory says shakily, glancing at the Doctor for a moment before burying his face in Amy's shoulder.
The guard looks uncomfortable and slopes off down the corridor, mouthing 'I was never here' at the Doctor. The Doctor laughs. Sometimes there are easy wins.
Amy and Rory break apart eventually, and Rory smiles at the Doctor. "Thanks," he says.
"Oh, it was all Amy, believe me," the Doctor says. "Pond, permission to hug?"
"Granted," Amy says, bending down to retrieve her blaster and return it to its holster. The Doctor really hopes she's not planning on keeping it; she's formidable enough without it.
The Doctor walks over to Rory and squeezes his arms for a second before pulling him close. Rory is reassuringly warm, and although he does smell a little of dungeon he mostly smells of Rory, soap and starlight and Amy and Earth and cotton all mixed up together. The Doctor smiles and ruffles Rory's hair where small, soft tufts curl over the back of his neck. Rory, for his part, just clings, and the Doctor realises that Rory was scared.
"I'm sorry," he says, "this was all my fault."
"It's okay," Rory says, muffled. "It was probably my turn to get abducted anyway."
Amy comes to put her hand on the small of Rory's back, gently steering him. "Come on, let's go back to the TARDIS. I might even cook."
"Really?" the Doctor and Rory say in unison. Amy doesn't believe in cooking as a general rule, but when she does make a go of it the results are usually spectacular, terrible beans and apples of many years ago notwithstanding.
"Really," says Amy. "How do you feel about lasagne?"
"I think I should get kidnapped more often," says Rory with a small, self-deprecating laugh.
The Doctor spends a lot of his time observing. That's always part of travelling with others - he sees them in ways they can't see themselves. Rory isn't the first person he's travelled with who's been unable to see how brilliant they are, but it still tugs at his hearts a little.
Rory doesn't seem quite able to see why it is that they want him around, as though he doesn't know how much he is loved. Amy may not be good with words but her feelings surround her like a glow whenever they're together, and the Doctor is amazed Rory can't feel it. Or perhaps he does, and doubts it anyway, as though he suspects that one day Amy and the Doctor will suddenly decide to leave him behind.
The Doctor understands that it's not the sort of belief that can be rationalised away, that what Rory thinks and what he feels may often be two different things, and so all he can really do is show Rory how far from the truth that idea is.
He starts taking a little more care to pay attention to Rory. He slings an arm across Rory's shoulders while they make tea, and takes the time to teach him some of the basics of the TARDIS energy circuits. The TARDIS gets in on it too, sometimes picking out places for them that she thinks Rory will particularly like - the planet of the fast cars is a particular hit, and the Doctor makes it up to Amy afterwards by taking her to a continent-sized art gallery.
"You're being awfully nice to my husband," she says as they walk through a 3D portrait gallery, leaving Rory in the next room looking at landscapes. She pokes the Doctor in the ribs. "Should I be worried?"
The Doctor laughs. "Your husband is awfully nice."
Amy just looks at him.
"And I want to be sure he knows how much I like having him around. He does know, doesn't he?"
Amy nods, smiling slightly. "He does. That doesn't necessarily mean he always believes it, though. It's a thing. We're working on it."
The Doctor nods, and when they join up with Rory again he sweeps him up in a hug, just because.
Amy's eyes widen. "Oh, it is on," she says, to Rory's bemusement.
The unspoken rules end up like this: all three of them have to be in the vicinity for a hug to count towards the overall score, and it only qualifies as a hug if both arms are involved.
The Doctor and Amy both throw themselves into it, hugging Rory at every even half-opportune moment. Rory seems bewildered by the sudden onslaught of attention, but happily so. The tenor of the hugs vary - the Doctor likes to mix them up between quick squeezes of greeting, friendly hugs just because, and a relieved embrace every time they make it out of trouble, which is often. When Amy hugs Rory, it's always close and fond, though sometimes there seems to be an unnecessary amount of fondling involved. The Doctor supposes he shouldn't judge, lots of humans seem to like that sort of thing.
The score, by the Doctor's reckoning, is 26 - 25 in Amy's favour on the day they nearly get eaten by a swamp monster. All due to a misunderstanding, really, but it's still a close enough call that they have to drag Rory out of the monster's swampy clutches and he ends up losing his shoes to the murky depths.
They run back into the TARDIS at full speed, and then Amy and the Doctor both go in for the hug at the same time. They end up colliding against Rory and collectively falling to the floor with a bump.
"Ow, I think," Rory says vaguely, but he's smiling. "What is with you two lately anyway?"
Amy says nothing, just laughs and pats his head, and the Doctor nestles in, reaching out to take their hands and hold them tight. "Shall we call it a draw?" he asks Amy.
"Yes," she says. "Well played."
"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," says Rory, "but I think I'm okay with that."
Amy curls up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and laying their joined hands over his chest. The Doctor props Rory's head up a little and runs a few scans to check there's no lasting swampy damage. Everything seems fine, but he keeps his arm where it is, curled protectively around Rory, and pats his shoulder. Rory smiles, and it's a smile that betrays no hint of doubt or concern. He looks happy in spite of the recent loss of his shoes and the unpleasant aroma that the TARDIS hasn't quite wafted away yet.
Amy makes a contented sound beside him, and the two of them reach up and tug the Doctor towards them until he's on the floor again, his arm flung across Rory and brushing against Amy's sleeve.
"Hmm," says Rory, "I don't think I'm moving for a while."
"That's not a problem," says Amy, kissing his cheek.
"No arguments here," says the Doctor, and he settles in.