Author: Lady Mercury
Word Count: 1455
Author's Summary: Oh, Amelia Pond, the things you don't know.
Characters/Pairings: Amy Pond, The Doctor (11th)
Warnings: Angst, Character Study, General, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection
Recced because: First of all, recced because this is amazing. The author always produces sheer quality and this is no exception. Of course (in my humble opinion) every author I recommend (and their glorious fictions) are just brilliant hands down. This fiction though...it is about the sudden remembrance of loss and the actual physical sensations of grief. It is about a man who doesn't think he is lonely, but suddenly remembers how he very much is, even as he tries to hide that from a friend who helps to keep that self-same loneliness and sorrow at bay.
It is about a remarkable companion, who can understand such loss in their own way, even as their own loss is different in so many ways. It is how grief can be silent and still be shared; how one doesn't have to hide their hurts.
It is about the continuance of all things, even if it is not as we used to know them.
I really have no other words that can truly do justice to this fiction. To see all these lovely, terrible, haunting, wonderful, relieving things, one must read this tale. Tis as simple as that, even if it isn't simple at all. I say this, but I do realize that occasionally, one must need a little push to plunge in - and as always, I have done my best to oblige below...
She drags him to the kitchen, nudges him into a chair. The tea she makes him is far too sweet, but he takes cautious little sips of it to please her. Sitting across the table, she watches him raise the mug to his lips. The room is warm and dim. For a moment, he can forget himself, imagine a little girl, fish fingers with custard, and a time that’s already very far away.
“Are you feeling any better?” Her voice is too loud, and it shakes him from his reverie.
“Much. I told you, Amy, I’m really not ill.”
“And I told you, hurling all over the TARDIS isn’t something you normally do. And I would know.”
A small, rueful smile plays on his lips. Oh, Amelia Pond, the things you don’t know.
See? Beautiful. Now...go - read! - and tell this writer how they have touched you, how they have made you feel - because in the end, isn't that the point of it all?