Geronimo

Chapter One ~ Raggedy Man {Jemma Pond}

When I was a little girl, I had an imaginary friend, and when I grew up, he came back. He’s called the Doctor. He comes from somewhere else. He’s got a box called the TARDIS that’s bigger on the inside and can travel anywhere in time and space. We ran away with him, the girl who waited and the last centurion, until the day we could run no more.

That was how my mother always started her stories about the Doctor.

When I was first adopted, I used to cry myself to sleep. I was haunted by the memories of my past that were refusing to loosen their grip on me.

On that first night in my new home, the dreams we exceptionally bad. My new mother came into my room and sat down on the corner of my bed. As she stroked my hair, she began the story - her story.

I used to think her accent was the funniest sound in the world. A scottish girl, raised in England, living in New York City. As that night dragged on, that voice became home.

We stayed up all night that day. My mother and father sharing stories of the Doctor, their Doctor. As sunlight began to creep into the room, illuminating the now not-so-scary “monsters” in my bedroom, I finally mustered up the strength to ask what I had been wondering all through the night, where is this Raggedy Man now? Why did he abandon us?

When I asked I could see tears begin to form in my mother’s eyes. She shook her husband awake. “Wake up stupid face,” she whispered to him.

“Amy, it’s too early,” he groaned as he playfully punched her on the shoulder. She giggled as she kissed him lightly, then pushed him off the bed. After several minutes my parents were sitting on either side of me, one considerably more awake than the other.

“Something happened,” my father, Rory, began. “61 years in the future for you, one year ago for us. A series of paradoxes, a final adventure, there was nothing any of us could have done differently, we saw our own deat -.”

“We saw our own futures,” my mother, Amy, interrupted. I giggle as I hear Rory mumble, “God, you’re so Scottish.” She glares at him then laughs, continuing the tale. “We became trapped, Rory was captured and I could not live without him. The weeping angels brought us here, to this time stream. It was together, or not at all, now we’re all alone. We can’t fly away with Sexy and that horrific madman with a box any longer.”

“We can’t see him ever again,” Rory finished in a hushed voice.

But I don’t believe this. 

Since I was adopted as an eight year old, eleven years ago, that blue box has been drifting in and out of my life. Not just in Amy and Rory’s stories, but in reality.

That blue box first spiraled into my life when we travelled to Washington DC to pick up my adopted younger brother, Colin, from the orphanage. As I waited outside in the car, I heard the whooshing noise that Amy and Rory had so vividly described.

As I strained my neck to see around the corner. I could just make out a blue box, the blue box. The door was slightly ajar, a man leaned against the doorframe, watching me.

Even at eight years old I could not help but notice how gorgeous he was. He had chestnut hair, perfectly flopping down over his eyes. Even from such a great distance I could see how his eyes sparkled. His maroon bow tie was slightly tilted, his shirt wrinkled, and his jacket over his shoulder gave him a childish but intriguing look. His eyes connected with mine, and he gave me a small smile. “Geronimo,” he mouthed as he straightened his bow tie and stepped back into his box.

That was my first encounter with the Doctor. In the past eleven years, I have seen him a total of six times, seven including right now.

I have not seen him for three years now, since our trip back to Amy and Rory’s home in England. I like to think that he saved my life that day. He came out of nowhere wearing the same clothes I saw him in eight years earlier, only this time he was wearing a crisp red fez, his hair sticking out slightly in the front. As he grabbed my hand and whispered “run,” I could hear the sound gunshots begin to echo in the square. Seven people were killed that day, right where I had been standing. The Doctor had saved my life. I searched for him after, but he was nowhere to be found, just a lonely ghost wandering through all of time and space.

So when he showed up in my college dorm room, while I was alone with my boyfriend, saying that I was shocked is quite the understatement.

A/N: Hey Dearies! Welcome to my second fanfic! I am planning for this story to be short, only 13 parts. Just a few notes... 1) I will update as often as possible, but you must understand I have school and many extracurricular activities, I will do my best 2)This story takes place BEFORE Clara 3)For the purposes of this story let's just forget River exists, I ship Yowzah, but I really don't want to have conflicting ships 4)I will make mistakes, don't be nervous to point them out to me. I love and appreciate comments/constructive criticism 5)Please make sure to follow me on Instagram ~ @welcome.to.storybrooke! Expect an update in the near future!