I don't own anything to do with doctor who in this universe, besides the adipose and the tardis money bank thingy thats back in my mom's house somewhere...

Rory Williams hadn't always been a Williams- before that, came the years of Smith. The woman who'd given birth to him always maintained that the was a Smith- she'd never slept with the man she called John Smith- she'd never slept with anyone- that was what she said- so, then, how had the boy Rory come about? When Rory was especially young, before he turned three, this woman spoke kindly to him, he knew nothing but soft hands and a gentle voice. As he grew, though, he began asking where his daddy was and the woman became sad. Rory didn't like it when the woman was sad- he knew this much. The tiny boy cuddled the woman and asked her not to be sad- I won't ask- then you won't be sad. I'm sorry. The little boy grew to be five- but the woman didn't send him to school- instead she moved- no one knew about the child here- she could keep him all to herself. In such a noisy block of flats, no one need know he existed. The woman left Rory alone from time to time, sometimes for a couple of days at a time, and Rory learned not to eat too much at once; if you eat too much in one go- you might not get any food later. One day the woman brought home a man, but Rory still didn't get any more food, because they both went into the woman's room and banged on the wall. Rory thought he heard the woman crying late at night, but he couldn't see why- he wasn't allowed in her room. For about a week Rory had a routine; a small bowl of sugar puffs, sitting quietly until dinner, sometimes a take out meals before bedtime and the grownups would bang on the wall again. One day this changed. Rory didn't see the woman, he only saw the man, who spoke to him in a gentle voice like the woman used to. He told Rory he wanted to play a game- but Rory soon found he didnt like this game- this game hurt. Still, every night for two weeks the man would pull him over to 'play'. Why don't you like this, Rory? Why do you want to make me sad? I'm sorry. More playing. I'm sorry! why did it hurt? Games were fun- this wasn't fun. I'm sorry!

Someone had called the police- there was a funny smell coming from the new lodger's flat- the police smelt it as soon as they reached the floor. There could be no doubt that the woman had been dead for a few weeks- strangled by the looks of things- but the small boy found this a shock. No one had ever mentioned a child, but here he was trying to get away from the corpse, whilst seeming to want to go towards it. I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Social services took the child to a hospital where their fears had been confirmed- if only the bastard responsible had been caught. Rory, he said his name was, didn't get along with the other children in the group home- he was the smallest and was heard to refuse to play games- I'm sorry! It wasn't until the Williams' names came up that there seemed to be any hope for him- the Williams had fostered "damaged" children for years, and had recently put themselves forwards as potential adoptive parents. From the moment they met Rory, they fell in love- Rory wasn't keen on loud noises, small spaces or a lot of people which suited them fine as they were already planning a move to a small village called Leadworth.

When Rory turned eight he received a new surname, a set of loving parents and he learned how to smile again.

When Rory turned eight he met Amelia Pond.

Amelia was a loud girl; she didn't have any problem shouting at anyone she didn't think was doing what she thought they should be- or, more importantly, if they didn't believe what she knew to be true. Her raggedy doctor existed, he was just a bit late. She was beginning to get just the slightest bit miserable when it happened- new neighbours moved in down the street, bringing with them a young boy. The Williams, perfect little family unit, brilliant; another one. She'd heard her aunt talking on the phone to one of her friends about the new neighbours and their adorable little boy, and it was this way that she found out they were coming over for dinner the following night- that's right, she had to find out she was eating with strangers from a phone call that she wasn't even involved with. There was a part of Amelia that wanted to take out her frustration on this 'adorable little boy', and another part whispering to her that no one like playing with her any more- ultimately, she just knew he was going to be just the same as every other child in this stupid little village, and she was bound to hate him and his stupid face. Then she met him. Rory Williams was two and a half weeks older than her, but seemed to be half her size. She wanted to be mean to him right up until the moment she saw him; jumpy, skinny, adorable Rory. Eating at the table she saw that he barely ate anything on his plate and she scrunched up her face.

"You're supposed to eat it- it isn't going to kill you." His eyes widened, and he looked at the food as if he was terrified at the very concept of eating it- in fact, he looked even less likely to eat it than he did before.

"Amelia!"

"What? He needs to eat it all if he's going to grow- that's what you always told me- eat your veggies so you'll grow- but he wont grow if he doesnt eat them!"

"Amelia, please lower your voice- and leave poor Rory alone." Amelia cold be called many things, but stupid was not one of them- she saw him flinch at the 'poor Rory' comment.

"What? I was just saying."

"Rory, it's fine; remember what we said?" he turned to look at his mother and nodded, and returned to eating... slowly.

After dinner, Amelia decided they needed to go outside to play. She grabbed ahold of his hand and he looked at her as if she had grown two heads before she pulled him outside with her. She explained to him how the other kids would tell him stories about her being 'a crazy' but that he mustn't listen to them, because they were just plain old mean, and he nodded along, looking at her with an odd look on his face. They sat on the grass facing each other and she stuck out her hand.

"Amelia Pond." she kept her hand where it was and, for her part, didn't speak to him as if he was stupid, he clearly just hadn't done these things before. "You're supposed to say your name and shake my hand."

"Rory... er," his voice was quiet, she hadn't expected anything less, but it was always good to have things confirmed. "Rory, er... Williams."

"I used to live in Scotland, before I moved here to live with my Auntie. How about you?"

"Er..." He bit his lip and looked towards the house. "If... if I tell you..."

"Yes?"

"I can't... I don't think..."

"Come on, Rory- I'll tell you a story if you tell me where you used to live." He squirmed, didn't look like she would find out today- but she'd get it out of him.

This is all I have so far... not entirely sure how much more I'm going to write, and who knows how this 'past' popped into my head... but it did...