Fight or Flight ( Doctor Who Fanfiction )

Violence.

One year & one week  Before.

"Amy?" I jiggled the lock on the back door and it opened easily. I needed to send someone to fix it - I could probably tinker around and do it myself, but I didn't have time for that lately. Either way, Sharon wouldn't remember to get it fixed it any more than Amy would.

"Ames?" I jogged up the stairs and came to a halt at the top, when I saw her standing in her bedroom doorway, frozen like she was waiting for me. "What's wrong? Rue is off to an art showing in today in London, and I was thinking we could attend  daytrip to Brighton if... you're not busy of course."

She said nothing, and the longer it took for her to answer, the heavier the weight in my chest became.

Something was wrong.

Amy leaned her head back and looked up into nothing. She took a deep breath.

I didn't dare speak.

"I thought you stopped."

"What?"

"You said that you stopped."

"I - " I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The fighting, Omara!" She took a step forward, and I took one back. "You told me you stopped so your Dad wouldn't find out!"

I did tell her that. It seemed like a reason she would believe. After a drug bust that shook up the London Ring and got several contracted fighters, managers, and attendees were arrested, they were cracking down on secrecy. I'd told all my friends the same thing, and continued on in secrecy.

And then they started taking people.

It was only a rumor at first, and I'd only heard about it twice; when a contracted fighter refused a round that was supposed to make the Ring a lot of money on too short of notice, someone disappeared as collateral until the round was fought.

It wasn't an issue for me, as the only contracted fighter with an unbroken streak - until last week, when my streak broke, along with two of my ribs.

And then this week, when they scheduled a round with me and a new fighter called the Snake who had another mess.

"How did you know?" I asked softly

"Never mind how I know!" She turned and stared at me. "Omara!"

I glanced down the stairs. "I... I can't do this with you right now."

"You can't do this with me right now?"

"Is that why Rory isn't picking up? Did you two decide together which of you would talk to me? I'm surprised you didn't organize an intervention. Get Sharon involved, even, I mean why not? Are we handing out pamphlets now?"

Oh, it all made sense. This was so typically them: conspiring on how to handle me like I was a child and not their friend. Well, their presence felt less and less like friendship and more like shackles. Rory never ignored our calls for anything, even during work - it was the main reason why his supervisor hated him. I lived my whole life with him one phonecall away, and just because they were together now and she couldn't stand my having my own life, Amy had turned him against me.

I stormed down the stairs, desperate for some fresh air, but five words from Amy stopped me in my tracks.

Five words and the lava pounding through my veins grew still.

"Rory isn't answering you, either?"

"You mean you didn't tell him not to?"

"Why the hell would I tell him not to answer you? Omara? Omara where are you going? Omara!"