Categories > TV > Doctor Who > My Daddy is a Time Lord
Chapter Eight, The Ponds
The world stopped spinning and I tumbled wildly to the ground. I stood up, my body shaking and my stomach flip-flopping, it’s contents threatening to empty.
“Hey! Are you okay?” A pair of strong arms supported me as I began to throw up, my lunch splattering on the ground. When my stomach was thankful empty, I looked up at the owner of the hands that firmly, but gently, that held me up.
“Fine...” I said, although my voice said otherwise. “Where are we? What happened?” I asked as I looked around. I was still in a cemetery, but I don’t think it was the one before, it was less crowded and looked newer.
“Um, you may not believe this, but you were just sent back into the past by a statue...” The man said, stammering a bit.
“Oh, I believe you all right. But who are you?” I asked the man. As soon as I did, I noticed there was a woman about ten paces away. She had red hair and was wearing modern clothes, they both were. “And who are you?” I asked her.
“My name is Rory.” The man answered. “And she’s Amy.”
“Amy...?” I inquired.
“Amy Pond.” She answered instead of Rory.
“Amy Pond.” I stammered a bit.
“Yes... Why? What’s your name?” She asked. She did have a scottish accent.
“Amelia Pond Smith.” Before Amy could respond, there was a small puff of smoke and two bodies came tumbling out of nowhere. The two bodies were Dad and River.
“Doctor?!” “Dad?!” Amy and I both said at the same time as each other and we looked at each other.
“Amelia! Are you okay?” Dad asked.
“Fine.” I answered, and Amy looked at me.
“I think he was talking to me.” She said.
“No, I was talking to her.” Dad said and came closer looking into my eyes.
“Dad, I’m fine.”
“Wait, Dad?!” Amy shouted.
“Amy, this is my daughter, Amelia.”
“You named your daughter after me?!” Amy screeched at Dad.
“Well, she wasn’t born a boy so I couldn’t name her Rory!” Dad yelled back. I looked around and Rory cleared his throat.
“Doctor, how did you get here?” Rory asked, trying to get him and Amy to not fight.
“Wait, why is everyone calling you Doctor? That’s not your name.” I cut in. This was all just getting confusing and strange and I needed answers.
“Because that is sorta my name.” Dad answered, a bit meekly, “and, Rory, as to why we are here, we got touch by a weeping angel, and we were sent back.”
“And you named your daughter after me!” Amy yelled.
“Yes, I think we’ve established that!” I yelled back. “Dad, where are we?!” I demanded to know. If this where any normal situation, I would probably get in trouble for snapping like that.
“Um, New York City, 1952. And I think it’s about fivish in the afternoon.” Dad said and looked at his watch. He tapped it a few times. “Nope, it’s broken.”
“Wait, we traveled back to 1952?!” I asked, I was starting to panic again. Why was that always happening to me?
“Yes... Are you okay, Amelia?” Dad asked, clearly worried.
“This time, I think not.” I whispered and sank to the ground. I fainted. Again.
The world stopped spinning and I tumbled wildly to the ground. I stood up, my body shaking and my stomach flip-flopping, it’s contents threatening to empty.
“Hey! Are you okay?” A pair of strong arms supported me as I began to throw up, my lunch splattering on the ground. When my stomach was thankful empty, I looked up at the owner of the hands that firmly, but gently, that held me up.
“Fine...” I said, although my voice said otherwise. “Where are we? What happened?” I asked as I looked around. I was still in a cemetery, but I don’t think it was the one before, it was less crowded and looked newer.
“Um, you may not believe this, but you were just sent back into the past by a statue...” The man said, stammering a bit.
“Oh, I believe you all right. But who are you?” I asked the man. As soon as I did, I noticed there was a woman about ten paces away. She had red hair and was wearing modern clothes, they both were. “And who are you?” I asked her.
“My name is Rory.” The man answered. “And she’s Amy.”
“Amy...?” I inquired.
“Amy Pond.” She answered instead of Rory.
“Amy Pond.” I stammered a bit.
“Yes... Why? What’s your name?” She asked. She did have a scottish accent.
“Amelia Pond Smith.” Before Amy could respond, there was a small puff of smoke and two bodies came tumbling out of nowhere. The two bodies were Dad and River.
“Doctor?!” “Dad?!” Amy and I both said at the same time as each other and we looked at each other.
“Amelia! Are you okay?” Dad asked.
“Fine.” I answered, and Amy looked at me.
“I think he was talking to me.” She said.
“No, I was talking to her.” Dad said and came closer looking into my eyes.
“Dad, I’m fine.”
“Wait, Dad?!” Amy shouted.
“Amy, this is my daughter, Amelia.”
“You named your daughter after me?!” Amy screeched at Dad.
“Well, she wasn’t born a boy so I couldn’t name her Rory!” Dad yelled back. I looked around and Rory cleared his throat.
“Doctor, how did you get here?” Rory asked, trying to get him and Amy to not fight.
“Wait, why is everyone calling you Doctor? That’s not your name.” I cut in. This was all just getting confusing and strange and I needed answers.
“Because that is sorta my name.” Dad answered, a bit meekly, “and, Rory, as to why we are here, we got touch by a weeping angel, and we were sent back.”
“And you named your daughter after me!” Amy yelled.
“Yes, I think we’ve established that!” I yelled back. “Dad, where are we?!” I demanded to know. If this where any normal situation, I would probably get in trouble for snapping like that.
“Um, New York City, 1952. And I think it’s about fivish in the afternoon.” Dad said and looked at his watch. He tapped it a few times. “Nope, it’s broken.”
“Wait, we traveled back to 1952?!” I asked, I was starting to panic again. Why was that always happening to me?
“Yes... Are you okay, Amelia?” Dad asked, clearly worried.
“This time, I think not.” I whispered and sank to the ground. I fainted. Again.
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