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Oneshot - Amy & 11

Basically, this is a bit of a re-telling story, but for some reason I just loved the part where the Doctor realises that Amy is.... well, Amy. So.. hope you like it :)

Five Minutes

"What?" he breathed, his voice barely audible, almost soundless. His eyes pierced mine, questioning, trying to find a trace of that trusting little girl he'd left just minutes ago in the hardened face of this young woman, as if he couldn't really believe what he was hearing. I stared back, my eyes wide, as I remembered the last time he'd looked at me like this, when I really believed every word he said...

12 YEARS EARLIER

"Give me five minutes, I'll be right back!" the man shouts, as he swings his legs over the edge of the box – the TARDIS – and prepares to jump. I watch the steam pouring out of the upside-down blue wooden doors with consternation as I process his words. A familiar wave of sadness washes through me as I answer slowly, "People always say that." Was this it, then? Was I never going to see this man again?

He watches me for a long moment. Then, swinging himself back over towards me and jumping onto the ground, he bends down in front of me, looking straight into my eyes in a way that I recognise no other adult has ever done before – it is an honest look, hiding no secrets.

"Am I people?" he asks. "Do I even look like 'people'?"

The answer, if inexplicable even to me, is obvious. No, this man isn't just 'people'. Yes, he is undoubtedly the strangest man I have ever met – it isn't exactly a normal occurrence for me to get woken up in the middle of the night by a man in a box crash-landing in my garden and demanding (to cut a long story short) fish fingers and custard. But it's more than that; this man isn't just crazy. There's something about him – something in his eyes, in his voice, that makes it impossible for me to doubt him.

"Trust me," he whispers. "I'm the Doctor."

And with that, the man in the raggedy shirt and pinstriped trousers, the Doctor, my Doctor, leaps into the TARDIS. He turns to look at me again, and a half-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, just for a second; a smile of reassurance, of adventure, of comradeship. Then, with a cry of "Geronimo!" he's gone, smoke still billowing out of the two doors before his rope slams them shut.

Out of nowhere, there's a thrumming metallic sound, and I shut my eyes against the sudden wind. When I open them, there's no trace of what has just happened, no sign that there has ever been anything here other than the grass and the shed and the trees.

But I still have his promise, those magic words, ringing in my ears and stretching a smile across my face.

"Give me five minutes."

I run into the house, sprinting as fast as my legs can carry me, throwing the front door wide open behind me as I dash up the stairs. I toss my closest belongings haphazardly into a suitcase and throw myself down the stairs, grabbing a coat and a hat on the way. Dropping my battered suitcase on the dirty ground, I sit, with the moon glowing a dull yellow in the dusty windows of the shed, and wait, watching the sky.

"Give me five minutes."

12 YEARS LATER

"What?" the Doctor whispered, impossibly still dressed in the same torn clothes from before, from a lifetime ago. His green eyes were soft now, sad, searching, slowly realising the truth; that his five minutes had turned into twelve years and, revealed in my own eyes, what those twelve years had done to me.

"What?"

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