Fight or Flight ( Doctor Who Fanfiction )

Deserve.

One Year Before.

I was high when she found me. I won't tell you what I was on, because I'm not here to self-incriminate. All I'll say is that wasn't much. Just enough to feel less like me.

Her voice floated into my trance from behind me: "I heard what happened."

I rolled my eyes almost as a reflex.

Despite my hopes that I could avoid her, I knew deep down that I would have to deal with Amelia before I left. Maybe that's why I came all the way here on a broken leg, to sit at the edge of town where our bench overlooked the trees.

It used to be that we'd meet here when one or both of us were barred from the other for one reason or another. Every guardian in our lives seemed so sure that we were bad influences on one another. Now we met here to talk things over when we weren't speaking to each other. And lately, not speaking was a regularity for us.

"Some people say hello," I mused, staring at the sunset cynically.

"Rory could have died, Omara. What were you thinking - "

"I'm leaving."

She was quiet. Waiting for me to get up and go, most likely. Before realizing that I wasn't talking about leaving the bench.

Maybe she'd been expecting me to fight, when she saw me from afar.

I raised a lit cigarette to my lips. I'd nearly forgotten I had it.

"I hate when you smoke," came her disembodied voice.

"I know."

"Rue isn't answering her phone."

I folded my arms, careful not to touch the cigarette to the shirt I wore. "She's fine. She's just not talking to anyone right now."

"That does not sound fine."

"What's it going to take for you to keep your nose out of my family's business?"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that. Don't you dare."

I looked over my shoulder at her. Bits of orange hair floating on a breeze across her stony face.

She took a breath. "What did you do?"

What did you do, Omara?

My voice hadn't softened in the slightest when I answered: "Everyone keeps asking me that. You all need to start being more specific."

"What happened with Rue? Specific enough for you? "

Her tone was becoming poisonous.

I relented slightly, rubbing my forehead. "It's a long story, Amelia. And you're not going to understand most of it."

"Stop that. Stop treating me like I'm just anyone. I am the only one who will understand and you fucking know it."

Footsteps.

She sat down beside me primly, took the cigarette from my hand, and crushed it into the crumbly pavement under the heel of her shoe.

"Explain."

I was quiet.

She huffed. "You're leaving soon, then? And is this really how you want to leave things?"

Answering without hesitation or even a glance in her direction, "I don't care."

There was a moment of silence.

Amy stood up, and her voice was thick. "Okay."

I couldn't do it.

"Okay. Okay, wait."