It’s another day, another planet, another place, another time; nothing out of the usual. They wake up, or she wakes up and finds him sitting in the library… if she can find the library. Or if she can find whatever room he’s residing in at all. Sometimes it’s one of the many kitchens, or a study, or even the game room. Regardless, the TARDIS has a nasty habit of moving the rooms around, making Amy’s ventures outside of her bedroom door almost a hunt. It was worse in the beginning. The first week or so on board, after sometimes over seven hours of searching, Amy would give up and go back to her room and wait; Not until twelve hours later would the Doctor find her, asking her what had happened and why hadn’t she gotten up and would mutter something about the laziness of the human race. The TARDIS had grown quite fond of the ginger named Pond and began to make these morning expeditions much easier and less time consuming.
This particular morning it takes Amy a total of six minutes and thirty seconds to find him, or maybe it just feels that way. The Doctor likes to remind her that time is not truly the same for either of them on his spaceship and what might be a second for her could be five hours for him. She’s still not sure if he was serious or if he was joking. He’s in the library which isn’t much of a surprise. Except for this library is one she hasn’t seen before, it’s much more modern like and doesn’t even seem to have books. Everything seems to be either white or chrome. The shelves are clear plastic. The books are merely pieces of glass lit up. The Doctor is hunched over one, sitting on the floor in the middle of the small room, surrounded by the shelves of the things. He touches the flat tablet like glass, one hand holding it and the other biting slightly on his thumbnail. She wants to call out “Doctor?” but instead stares in wonder around the brightly lit room, with the invisible light source completely refracted in the whiteness and cleanliness and almost sterile-ness of it all. Instead she approaches him slowly, and sits on the floor across from him.
He looks up at her, his eyes filled with what looks like worry and apprehensiveness.
“Doctor? Is everything all right?” Amy asks, unsure of what else to say.
“This is bad Pond, very bad.” He looks down at the tablet once more, tapping it quickly with the heel of his palm before getting it up and putting it back on the nearest shelf. Amy watches as he walks right out of the room, without so much as another word; a silent statement of “Follow me, now”. She gets up, and walks a fast pace behind him, night robe streaming behind her.
She’s walking down a nearby flight of stairs and ends up in the console room, not even close to where she was the night before. Amy shakes her head and silently thanks the TARDIS. The Doctor stands at his controls, looking around at the screens and then down at the buttons and by the time he’s looking back up at the screens she’s at his side, trying to see what he sees.
“Doctor? What is it?”
He looks down at her, frowning slightly with his brows furrowed.
He turns away from her and walks to the doors of the TARDIS, trying to see out the windows of the twin doors.
She follows him once more; standing at the other door and copying him, then staring intently back at his face, trying to make sense of it.
“Doctor. Please.” Amy tilts her head, her voice shaking slightly.
“They’ve done such frightful things, Amelia. Such, wretched, wicked, wrong things…” His voice trails off.
“Who? Done what?” She pulls her head back a little, as if she is afraid of the answer he might give.
Finally he turns his eyes away from the window to meet hers.
“Us. We.” The Doctor frowns once more at his companion before turning his attention back to whatever he can possibly see out the small pane of glass. “We’ve done such horrible things.”