Home: Rory

According to modern science there have been 536 people who have left the gravity of this planet behind and travelled into space. 536 out of billions and billions upon billions who have lived and loved and died on our tiny, blue planet. 536 people, that's all, in the entirety of human history who've had the pleasure of seeing their home from afar. Of course that doesn't take into account Amy and I and my dad and every other person the Doctor has pulled from this world and given the stars.

Being up there affords you a certain understanding of your place in the nature of things. The Earth is a closed system. Everybody knows this but I'm not sure if they ever really think about it. All the water that we see, the oceans and lakes and streams, the rain and the snow is the same water that was here at the beginning. Not a drop added. That means, that the same snow that falls on us, fell on Honorius. The same water we swim in the Egyptians bathed in. The water we use to brush our teeth once capped the Himalayas. That's a rather fanciful view but the fact remains we live and breathe and consume the history and the ancestral dust of this planet every single day.

It helps to see the world like this, especially when you have a few thousand years ahead of you. It's 40,075.16 kilometers around its center. It is 4.54 billion year old. The speed needed to break free of its atmosphere is 11.2 kilometers per second. Some 2000 years ago the world population was estimated to be around 231 million. Today there are over 7 billion. It's best to view this planet as small. You must take the Earth in pieces. Small things, quantifiable things can be measured. What can be measured can be dealt with, one piece at a time.

Another thing I learned is that you must carry your heart with you at all times. You can't just leave it laying about. You can't give it to someone else. You can't let just anyone go running off with it. I learned this lesson but I had such a difficult time following it. The only way I learned to survive all those years was to carry my home with me. Every time I moved, every time I gathered my belongings and the Pandorica and set off towards the horizon I carried my heart with me. It was a lonely existence but it was needed. I couldn't afford to call anywhere home except the memories that I kept in my head

I used to have dreams, so vivid, so real, so believable that for awhile I was able to convince myself that Rome and the autons and the Pandorica and 2000 year wait were just wild figments of my imagination.

I would dream of waking up, rolling over to find Amy lying next to me. Red hair cascading over her pillow and mine, a slender arm outstretched and draped over my chest. That adorable little whistling sound her nose would make early in the mornings. I'd roll over and kiss her shoulder. She'd pout because it was of course far too early, even for affection. I'd laugh and she'd roll over and curl her body into mine.

That was home and I was rushing towards it as fast as I could.

Eventually...I got there.

I was awakened this morning as I had been for the past few...to the smell of burning toast. I blinked and saw Amy sleeping soundly to my left and what felt like an empty space at my right.

"He's at it again. He's gonna burn the house down, Rory." Amy mumbled, apparently not quite as sound asleep as I had imagined.

"I'll sort it."

"No...you're on nights...I'll..." She paused to yawn. "I'll sort him out."

"You'll do no such thing. Bed rest means bed rest. The only place you're allowed to go is to the loo and back again. Now, back to sleep. I've got everything under control."

She had started to pout at the mention of bed rest but when I kissed her forehead her face relaxed and without ever having opened her eyes I watched our wife drift back off to sleep. I rested a hand softly on her belly and smiled.

We were entering our third week of domestic bliss and each of us was settling into our own specific rhythm. Amy was on strict bedrest, I was back at hospital working evenings and nights and the Doctor in an effort to keep busy had reassumed what he told us was an old job as a sales clerk at a toy shop. He actually seemed to love it. It was strange. Amy and I had braced ourselves for a tantrum, profound and frustrated sighs and the like. But amazingly he seemed to be finding beauty in the mundane this time around. He returned excitedly the first day to tell us all about the upgrades he'd given to certain toys

Of course it wasn't really that simple. Then again it never is. There were other things diverting his attention and I knew his secret.

The third day he arrived home I greeted him at the door with a kiss as I was on my way out.

"Hello, handsome, how was work?"

"Lovely actually, I've already got a promotion. Manager." He said pointing to his nametag. "Isn't that fab?"

"Three days on the job and you're a manager? So, you like it then?" I asked.

"Love it. Of course, none of them are human."

"I'm sorry...what do you mean, they're not human?"

"In cosmetics, they're clones. Every last one of them. But I'm working on it. I'll have it fixed by tomorrow. How's Amy?"

"Bored, grumpy and bored...did I mention grumpy?"

"Doctooooooor!" Came Amy's voice erupting from above us.

"Ah her dulcet tones call to me from afar." He said with an affectionate smile. "Well off to work with you then. I relieve you, sir." The Doctor offered me a small salute which I returned.

"I stand relieved. See you in the morning, love." We kissed once more and I was off.

That was how it had been for the past weeks and it had worked remarkably well. So well in fact I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm a bit of a pessimist in that way.

This morning I headed downstairs following the scent of of scorched bread to find my husband puttering about the kitchen.

"And how are we this morning, chef?"

"Rory, you should be in bed. You need your rest."

"I'm fine. What about you? Do I need a fire extinguisher?"

"No, no, no, everything is under control. I tried to give the toaster a tweak...no such luck. I was just about to get to work on the eggs."

Seeing him move around the kitchen doing something so...normal always warmed my heart. I slipped an arm around his waist from behind and rested my head on his shoulder. He paused for a second and I felt his body relax against mine.

"Sorry I woke you."

"You know you don't have to apologize for that. Plus I wake up every few hours to check on Amy anyways."

"Still we've got a schedule worked out and I mucked it up."

"It's fine, love. I think your schedule is a bit more up in the air."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they must keep you on pretty long hours at UNIT."

He stilled in my arms.

"You know."

"Of course I know. The charm of being a salesman might have lasted for awhile but it was bound to wear off."

"I tried." He said with a sigh. "I really did."

"I know. It's fine, as long as you're keeping as relatively safe as you can. Turn off the burner will you?"

Everything about this made me happy. My wife, my husband a baby on the way, breakfast in the morning, filling the car with petrol on the way to work, stopping at the market to pick up dinner. Normal. Just normal. I liked the running of course, I even missed it but I also like the sitting still.

"Does this feel like home to you, Doctor? At the end of the day are you happy to come back here?"

"The outer casing hardly matters. Home is where the two of you are." He said simply, putting two slices of toast with jam on the table before me. "You grow accustomed to it, finding a safe place amidst all the running. It was of course always the TARDIS for me but there was more. All those years...where was home for you? Was there a lot of running?"

"No, not really." I chuckled softly realising he had a completely different idea about how I had lived. "I was a farmer."

The Doctor blinked.

"A farmer? You mean...you farmed?"

"Mmmhmm." I said taking a sip of tea. "For awhile at least. The truth is I did a lot of things over the years. But, yeah, in Italy. It took weeks just to clear the land of the great chunks of solidified lava. I arranged them and made a little irregular stone wall. Did I neglect to mention I lived under Aitna?"

The Doctor's eyes widened a bit and I felt a surge of pride that I could still surprise him.

"You lived beneath Mt. Etna? Are you mad?"

"There's always time and space between eruptions, Doctor. It was actually quite lovely. I had a vineyard, I grew vegetables, I occasionally visited with my neighbors and I dreamed. I dreamed of what it might have been like to live some place calm and peaceful like that with Amy . I closed my eyes and lay back in the grass next to the Pandorica and I spoke to my wife as if she were there. I'd also talk to you. Wonder where you were, if you'd been here. If maybe I might run into you.

"Did you..." The Doctor looked around and lowered his tone before continuing. "Did you ever take another lover?"

I laughed and stood up. Mercifully there was coffee brewing and I poured myself a cup, sat down and took a reverent sip.

"This may be the most bloke moment we've ever had. Nope, never. Well, alright I messed around a bit but that was mostly in Rome. As I think I told you before at some point it actually becomes one's duty to participate in an orgy. But I always stayed on the outskirts, a kiss here, a tug there, nothing more serious. Just enough to look busy and not draw attention."

"Suppose that's one of the perks of being an auton. None of those distracting urges."

"Oh Doctor...no, they were there. I was an exact duplicate of myself. I was Rory then, as much as I'm him now. But I simply...abstained."

He leaned closer to me in disbelief.

"Just to clarify...you abstained from real intimacy for 2000 years."

"Well it's not like I didn't have one off the wrist, preferably with the hand that doesn't shoot lasers. But I had a wife. I had vows to honor."

"I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't impressed.

"We've never talked about this." I mused. "How is it we've never talked about this?"

He shrugged and then seem to contemplate the question, spreading more jam on his bread.

"I think...I think I never dared."

I had my toast halfway up towards my mouth and there was where it stopped.

"What do you mean?"

"A persons past is this great, living thing. It follows them like a shadow. Sometimes its a friend, sometimes its a spectre. But in either case stirring it to life can often have bad results."

"Are we talking about you or me?" I asked with a small smile.

"Not sure." He said quietly. "What was it like?"

I knew what he was referring to. I didn't have to ask.

"Lonely. Scary. Dark...there were absolutely no stars. 2000 years of starless nights. I don't think I realized early on how that would weigh on me. It was...suffocating. I stayed in the Underhenge for the longest time because it felt safe and familiar. When I did leave it was dusk, the TARDIS-Sun was setting but there wasn't a star or planet in the sky. It felt...it felt as if someone was ripping the air from my lungs."

"Did you ever wish you'd gone with me?"

I sucked in a breath and held it for a moment.

"Nearly every second of every day, for the first few months."

"How did you keep track of time?"

"The calendar, like everybody else. But also I kept the sums in my head. As an auton I had so much more space. I never forgot anything, never had to struggle to remember. Something would happen and I would immediately catalog it away in my brain for another time. It would be cross checked with a hundred, a thousand other things. It was orderly. I miss that...especially when I'm searching for my trainers in the morning or trying to recall where I left my keys."

"Again, to clarify...that's not how you think all the time? I think I've finally pinpointed the reason I find human so frustrating."

"I still remember them, the sums I mean. Fifty nine billion six hundred and forty four million two hundred and fifty two thousand eight hundred seconds. Nine hundred and ninety four million seventy thousand eight hundred minutes. Sixteen million five hundred sixty seven thousand eight hundred and forty eight hours. Six hundred and ninety thousand three hundred and twenty seven days. Ninety eight thousand six hundred and eighteen days. All told one thousand eight hundred and ninety years."

"That's..."

I watched him swallow before he trailed off.

"That's nearly 700 years older than me."

"I know it is, youngster." I said giving his cheek an affectionate pat but he didn't smile.

"That must have been awful for you."

"You've never asked me about any of this before...why now, love?"

"I never asked you because I was ashamed and maybe because I didn't want to hear the answer. Because I blamed myself and..."

I looked at him with concern. "What?"

"Because I know I couldn't have done it. Because...in the face of that type of sacrifice I know I would have made the easy choice.

"Respectfully, that's bullshit. You've never made the easy decision in your life.

"How did you do it?"

"I did it the way I do everything. I chose my points of focus and I forged ahead."

"What did you focus on? A date? The 20th century?"

I smiled at him. My logical husband.

"No, darling. I focused on Amy and you. I focused on home. "

He looked frustrated, almost exasperated with that and I recalled a time when long ago he'd asked me why I had to be so human.

"Why would you focus on what you didn't have? On what would cut most to the quick. Some would call that madness. Self induced, debilitating madness."

"I guess, but remember Amy was the only thing that kept me going. As I see it, Doctor, the only way you can possibly keep running a race is knowing there's a finish line. And I had one. I knew when it was coming if not how, I just had to keep running."

"That's not just a race, that's a marathon."

"I lived in Marathon for a bit. I settled there before moving on to Athens." I said with a smile trying to lift his mood.

We were both quiet for a long while. He stared off into the distance, silent and still and I gazed down into my coffee cup as two millennia ran through my head.

"I am so...sorry for leaving the way I did. It was just a few moments for me. Between leaving you and seeing you again. But for you..."

"Is that why you got us this house? Because you felt guilty?"

I had always wondered that. It was a strange move for the Doctor. He wasn't a gift giver, it wasn't in his nature. Which is not to say he isn't generous. On the contrary he's the most generous man I've ever known. But, aside from his TARDIS, he doesn't hold much stock in material things. And truth be told, she's a living creature and not material at all.

I was initially apprehensive about the house that the Doctor gave us. He's not the greatest at earth traditions and to the best of my knowledge he was never a homeowner. I didn't know what to expect when we first entered. After he dropped us off following the nightmare hotel Amy and I sat quietly in the window just...staring up at the empty sky. Waiting for him to return. To change his mind. To say he couldn't live without us. Of course in reality we wouldn't see him for another two years. In any case, in the midst of our mourning for our friend we decided it would probably be best to take a look at the gift he'd given us. It didn't take long for us to get settled in. The two of us, we made it into ours, something we could be proud of. Something that belonged to us alone. Now, it belonged to the three of us.

"What kept you going?" He said suddenly.

"The same thing that keeps all of us going. Gravity.'

"No, no gravity holds you in place. It keeps you still. It stops you from moving."

"Gravity is all about movement, that thrust and tug that brings you back to earth. Gravity is the North star that tells you where you are."

I paused before continuing.

"When I was very little, the stars went out."

He looked at me curiously waiting for me to continue.

"When my mum left. I was only about four and at that age she was my whole world. She kept me home from nursery school and we went to the Cotswolds zoo. I loved the zoo. At that age you're still just a hair too young to notice how sad all the animals look. We went on the merry-go-round and we got ice cream. I held her hand and she carried me about and we won a teddy bear by knocking over bottles at a little carnival. I thought it was the best day that I had ever, ever had. I thought it was the start of something for us. I thought, maybe she had realized how silly all this school nonsense was and this was the way we'd spend our time from now on.

We got back home in the late afternoon and I was well past due for a nap I imagine. She tucked me in and she leaned over and kissed me. She said, I love you, Rory She was so beautiful. She always had this wild head of hair, unruly corkscrew blonde curls that went this way and that. I've seen pictures of her from all ages and how she used to try and pin it down and slick it back but it would always, always come undone eventually. Finally she just gave up. She let it fly freely. She gave up."

I smiled softly.

"What happened?" The Doctor asked quietly.

"I already told you...she gave up. By the time I woke up for dinner she was already gone. Only I didn't know that yet. I asked Dad where she was and he said she'd stepped out and she'd be there at breakfast tomorrow morning like always. And that I should sit there and eat my supper like a good boy. So I did. I sat there and I ate. Like a good boy. Then I went to bed, like a good boy. And when I woke up the next morning she still wasn't there. Dad said she'd likely be back by the time I got home from school. So he took me and he dropped me off and I was a good boy that entire day at school. I colored in the lines and I raised my hand and I didn't run about or shout. I was a very, very good boy."

"Rory..."

"Eventually my father ran out of lies and I ran out of belief. I got up in the middle of the night a few months later. I think I'd just turned five because I could have sworn I heard her voice. I thought I heard her singing in the kitchen. I went down and she wasn't there. No one was there. I don't know what got into me but I opened the back door to the kitchen and I ran out letting it slam behind me. I ran and I ran and I ran...I ran until I reached the cornfields not far from our house, you know the ones. I darted through them and they hurt, I got cut and scratched but I didn't care because I just thought if I ran far enough and fast enough and was good enough I'd get to her again. Finally when I was out of breath I looked up...and I couldn't see the stars. The corn was too high because I was too little of course but to me, it was like they were gone. Like they had winked out of existence. Like...when she had said goodbye with the zoo and the ice cream and the teddy bear she had taken the stars with her."

I hadn't realized that hot tears were coursing down my face as I spoke until I saw one splash into my coffee cup. The Doctor was looking at me with a worried frown I could feel more than see.

"Anyways, eventually my father followed the carnage I had torn through the field, picked me up and carried back to our house. But he didn't take me home. I didn't feel as though I had a home anymore. Over the next couple of months he got more distant and various relatives came in to take care of me. But everyone was a visitor, everyone was a guest, that house was just walls. I really didn't even remember what home was supposed to feel like. I just knew that I felt small and I hurt and my mum was gone and she wasn't ever, ever coming back...because I hadn't been a good enough boy.

And then I met Amy. I was seven and she bustled into my life, rescued me from bullies and said she'd teach me how to protect myself. She also told me, that first night we were going to have a campout. She liked to dictate things and I was more than happy to follow her orders. It was just nice to have somebody care enough to want me with them. I convinced my dad to let me borrow a sleeping bag and I carried the mammoth thing over to her house. Her Aunt Sharon helped us make Smores and brought us popcorn and a iPod and pillows and helped us set up a tent before Amy shooed her away. I can't remember what we talked about. I don't think I did much talking, I never had to when Amy was about. As the sun set we lay there on our backs and stared up at the sky. And slowly...the stars came out. Stars that I hadn't seen for two years. I started to cry. God, I tried to hold it back, but this pathetic little sniffle escaped. I worried maybe she'd tease me or ask me what was wrong but instead she just grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

You can come over...whenever you like. She said. And then...and to this day I don't know if she even meant for me to hear this, she added. I'm lonely. And it was as if she was speaking my own words back to me. And suddenly, I had a home again.

It was the same when Amy asked me to travel with you both, properly asked me after Venice. It was the same on our wedding day when I knew that I had you both. And of course it was the same after 1890 years.

You see, I didn't worry about the stars coming back. It's true, you can't go home again. But if you're very lucky, home will eventually go back to you."

"Faith?" He asked with a soft smile that was at once hopeful and dark.

I sipped my coffee.

"No...faith is believing in something unproven. I've had this proven to me time and time again."

"You, husband, are a wiser man than I shall ever be."

I chuckled, not believing or agreeing with him for even a moment.

"Yes, but you make much better coffee than I do."

"You should go back to bed." He said softly.

"And you need to get to work. UNIT can't be kept waiting."

We both nodded in unison before he said, "So, shower then?"

"Absolutely." I agreed.

We gave the stovetop once last glance, making certain everything was off before heading off to have a hot shower together.

It didn't surprise me that a man who fought so hard to break the bonds of gravity saw it more as an enemy than a friend. Gravity was a prison to the Doctor and he was certainly not fond of being bound. But I found it...I find it comforting. Knowing that no matter how far you jump or how high you go, you'll always land. It may not be the place you thought you'd touchdown, but you'll always land.

Everything I have ever lost has come back to me, Amy, the Doctor, Melody, my Dad...even my Mum, just before she died. As my husband and I crept silently upstairs, wary of waking Amy I thought about what he'd lost. His family, his home, and his life, ten times now. I didn't know if I could convince him that any of those things could come back. I didn't know if he could understand that sometimes home takes on a different shape than you ever imagined it could. Sometimes, you have to wait for your wife outside a box for nearly 2000 years. Sometimes you lose your infant daughter but she returns to you as a grown woman. Sometimes the bonds you shattered with your father years ago can be very, very slowly pieced back together. Sometimes you can find parts of yourself that you'd thought were lost for good. Sometimes, you can share an ice cream cone with your mother in a hospital room as cancer eats her from the inside out and you can find a well of forgiveness in yourself so deep and calm that it washes over nearly every hurt.

But the Doctor is a runner. He ran for thousands of years. I sat in the shadow of Mt. Etna and sipped my wine and contemplated these things in the gloaming of a TARDIS sunset.

Maybe he can understand.

Maybe I can help him understand.

Maybe the baby will help.

Maybe we can all grow together.

Maybe it'll make sense to him...when he gets a little bit older.

A/N: Hi guys...well, this update only took 346 days. I don't know what to say...I just lost the narrative thread on this one. It got away from me. I'd open the file up every couple of months and just not be able to come up with anything. I'm still not sure I have it back. I'm still not sure I didn't bite off more than I could chew. I'm still not sure how the hell I'm going to finish this. Maybe I should have just left off with Come And Knock On Our Door. But I promised you I wouldn't give up and I wouldn't abandon it and I'm going to try and live up to that promise.

I'm not even sure this was any good but I hope you liked it.

-Maribor

9/6/2014