Estuary (Evening)

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Title: Estuary
Author: sarah531
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse
Characters: Melody, Amy, Rory, Tabitha, Augustus, Jack, a couple of OCs
A/N: Last minute title change- the original was The Family Gathering. I can’t decide which one I like the best. Also Livejournal wouldn’t let me post the whole thing, which is what I wanted, so here it is in parts.
Summary: Melody Pond grows up alongside her parents.

Evening

Leadworth, autumn, 2002

“Do you ever think about your real parents?” Amy blurted out one day as she and Mels walked by the river. “I mean, d’ya ever think about tracing them or whatever?”

“Yeah,” Mels said. “I think about them loads.”

“Why don’t you trace them? I bet you could get a social worker or whatever to do it.”

“I don’t wanna bunch of do-gooders looking into my past,” said Mels. “It would suck.” To illustrate her point, she kicked a stone into the water. “I don’t mind living in a children’s home, honestly I don’t. It’s fine.”

Amy examined her closely, keeping in step with her as they walked. There wasn’t much emotion in her eyes at all. “I’d mind,” she said.

“I know they were good people,” Mels said. “That’s something, right? The most important thing.”

They’d come to a bench, one that looked out over the river to the hills beyond, and as they sat down Mels reached into her pocket. She withdrew a sea-blue envelope and took out a letter, a crumpled and brown letter, and handed it to Amy.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from my mum,” Mels said. Her voice was blank; she was watching to see what Amy did. “My real mum, s’one of the only things I got from her.” She replaced the envelope in her pocket and Amy thought she saw a photograph in there, a photograph of a white woman with a white baby, but she couldn’t be sure. She straightened out the letter and read:

Dear Melody,

I hope you’ll get to read this letter in peace and comfort, with a roof over your head and people who care about you. That’s the main thing I hope for you, that you’ll be loved.

I wish I could tell you that I’ll always be there for you. That me and your dad will raise you. But there are bad things in this world, and they took you from us. All we can tell you is that we will always be with you, no matter where you are or how far away. We know that you’ll grow up to be strong, and wise, and brave, and we’re sorry that we won’t see you as an adult, facing the world.

You will see us again sometime, even if it’s in another world, we promise that.

With all the love in the universe, your mother, A.

She read it twice, taking it in, aware of what a huge thing it was for Mels to share. It had been written on a typewriter, an old and fading typewriter. The T key had been broken, so that ‘there’ looked more like ‘ihere’. Amy pictured a woman, a crying young woman, hunched over a desk in a tiny room. She shook off the image, folded up the paper and handed it back to Mels. A sadness was fighting its way to the front of her heart. “D’ya…d’ya know what ‘A’ stands for?” she asked.

“No,” Mels said. “But her name isn’t the important part.”

“I guess not.” Amy stared out at the river. “What do you think happened to them?”

“I don’t know. But I think they’re still alive.” She stared intently at Amy. “They loved me. You can see that, right?”

“Yeah…” Amy said. Tears were forming behind her eyes, much to her displeasure. And images she couldn’t place were flickering through her head: clutching the hand of a strict Aunt Sharon instead of her smiling mother; sleeping alone in a big house at night…”They did really love you. I think you are gonna see them again.”

Mels nodded vigorously, and replaced the letter in the envelope. She did so very carefully, and Amy tried to see the photograph again, but it had fallen out of view.

“D’ya always carry it with you?” she asked quietly.

“Always,” said Melody.

*

Leadworth, spring, 2003

In his little attic bedroom, Rory moved things into boxes and taped them up. Mels watched from the bed.

“All the old toys are going to the children’s home,” Rory told her. “I’ve got some books you can have.”

“Can I have your guitar?”

“No!”

Mels grinned. “S’alright. I want the books.”

“S’mostly comic books, though. Superman and Spider-Man…”

“I like them.”

Rory handed her a pile. They were old and battered, but still colourful. “Dad says I should’ve chucked them out long ago. He wants this room for a study now. I caved.”

“I hate your dad.”

“Really?” Rory looked at her worriedly.

“He’s a racist. He calls me coloured.”

“Oh…”

“He looks at me like I shouldn’t be here.”

“I…I’m sorry. I told him he, you know, needs to stop living in the past…” Rory turned away so she couldn’t see the sad anger on his face, and plunged his fists into a box of toys. “He’s…oh god, Mels, I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a little while. Mels reached for a tiny red car on the bookcase and threw it from hand to hand. “What would you say if I told you my parents were white?”

“I’d say it was possible. I’m doing biology at A-Level now…” He couldn’t quite force his pride at this out of his voice. “It happens. Genetics doing stuff…”

“They were,” Mels said. “I think they were.”

Rory looked at her thoughtfully.

“Which makes me wonder,” Mels said, “what would happen if you and…Amy, say…had a baby, and it wasn’t the same colour as you? Your dad would reject her in an instant. He’d go nuts. Cos he’s a bad person, and it weirds me out a bit that he managed to raise you.”

Rory thought about defending his father and decided not to. “He…yeah. He would. He’d go nuts. Just like he did when he found out my mum was having an affair.” And for a minute something dark flickered in his eyes, a child witnessing things he shouldn’t have seen. “Yeah. He would. But I wouldn’t.”

“So, you’d totally accept a daughter who wasn’t the same colour?”

“Yeah. Course.”

“Good,” Mels said thoughtfully. Then, “You and Amy should have a baby.”

Rory laughed sadly.

*

Leadworth, summer, 2003

Leadworth High’s library was dark and dusty and few people bothered to go in. Mels and Amy sat in the darkest corner, poring over books on World War Two.

“Couldn’t we just use the Internet?” Amy asked wearily.

“I like libraries,” Mels answered. “Anyway, at the home I’ll have to fight with nineteen other kids for the computer, and you’ll have to fight with your mum.”

Amy nodded vaguely and lifted a book. Mels was already engrossed in one. Time ticked slowly by.

“You don’t want to go home either, right?” Amy asked. “They’ll be mad when they find out you’ve got another detention.”

Mels shrugged.

“You know what,” Amy said, “you should probably stop doing that thing…where you stand up in class and blame stuff on the Doctor.”

“I’m not blaming him,” Mels said in an odd tone. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“You said that the war happened because the Doctor couldn’t stop it.”

“Couldn’t, or didn’t?”

Amy stared at her. “One person couldn’t have changed all that…you’d have to have changed people. Like, get right inside their heads and control them.”

“It could have been done.”

“But then something worse might have happened.”

Mels looked down at her book, rather than up at her mother. “We don’t know that wasn’t the worse thing. And he had a magic box, he was magic, he could have done something. He could’ve landed the TARDIS in Auschwitz.”

Amy felt a chill, the dark chill that tells a child the adult world is close at hand. “I…” She paused. “I…we…we don’t know that he didn’t.”

“He didn’t,” Mels said. “It would be in a book. It would be somewhere.”

Amy opened her mouth to say something, to defend her friend against such a cruel judgement, against the creeping pain of a truth, but no words came out. She closed her book.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” she said. Mels merely waved her away.

*

Rory lay on his bed, reading a medical textbook. His stepsister Julia was playing Busted records in her room, and downstairs his father was once more picking a fight with a blameless woman. He tried to block out the noises and focus on his book, but he couldn’t, and then his mobile phone rang. He picked it up.

“Hi, Amy.”

“What’s up? How’s the studying going?”

“I…” Rory was embarassed to admit it was defeating him. “S’alright.”

Amy was silent for a while. “Rory, d’ya think…” But then she changed the subject. “Hey. I wanna ask. You want to be a doctor now. Is it because of him?”

Rory thought about it and decided not to lie. “Bit.”

“That’s a rubbish reason to be a doctor. Because my magic man shares the name.”

“No…” Rory sought the words. “I want to help people.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just do.”

The conversation was awkward and it was getting awkwarder. “There’s an end-of-term disco soon,” Amy said. “You met anyone nice to go with?”

Rory swallowed. “No.”

“I might take Jeff Angelo.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah. He asked me. So did a bunch of others, but I wanna take him.”

“Uh-huh,” said Rory, as the battle raged downstairs. “Okay. Cool.”

Amy paused. Rory suspected she could hear the noise. “What’s going on down there?” she asked. “Is Anna being a bitch again?”

Rory sighed. “She’s not a bitch.”

“She called me a slag.”

Rory winced. “I know…I’m sorry. She’s just…very religious.”

“She’s awful.”

Rory listened as downstairs, his father called Anna the word Amy had objected to. And he winced again. “They’re…fighting right now.”

“Oh,” said Amy vaguely. She was quiet again and Rory figured she was trying to listen to them. “I can hear Busted,” she said.

“Yeah. Sorry. Julia’s.”

After yet another pause Amy said, “You think they’ll get divorced? Like, your mum and dad did?”

“I don’t know,” Rory said. “Dad, he’s not…he’s not great with girls. Women.”

Amy made a snorting sort of noise. Then she said, “Your parents suck.”

“No they don’t.”

“Most parents do,” she said. Then the conversation drifted into pointlessness and the shouting downstairs grew ever louder.

*

“The school disco’s in a few days,” Amy said to Mels, as they slumped in her bedroom at the children’s home. “Got anyone to go with?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should take Rory.”

“Ewwwwww!”

“Alright,” Amy said, surprised. “He’s not that bad.”

“Sorry.” Mels closed her eyes, just for a second, for some reason. “I don’t really wanna go.”

Outside the room, other kids ran around on the landing. Mels threw a pillow at the door.

“What are you gonna do when you turn eighteen?” Amy asked, out of the blue. “You won’t be able to live here anymore.”

“Maybe I’ll go off with you and the Doctor.”

Amy smiled sadly. Mels turned on the radio. The news was on.

“Do you listen for aliens?” she asked. “I always listen for aliens.”

“Sometimes,” Amy said.

Mels started moving around her room, picking up the pillows. Amy noticed the blue envelope lying atop an old typewriter, and a Stevie Wonder poster rolled up in the corner. There were butterflies on the ceiling and photos on the walls, and it was all cosy and homely but it wasn’t Mels’…

“You should live with me,” Amy said. “When we turn eighteen.”

“Okay,” Mels said, straightaway. “Where should we live?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Can we bring Rory?”

Amy laughed. “You sure you haven’t got a thing for him?” But the look Mels gave her silenced her. “Sure, we can bring Rory. We’ll all have a house together.”

“With a blue door.”

“Like the TARDIS? Okay.”

“And pictures on every wall, and books on every shelf, and a pond…for you. A duck pond.”

Amy grinned. “With actual ducks?”

“With actual ducks.”

“It sounds lovely.”

“It will be.”

*

Florida, winter, 2003

Amy awoke from a dream of Rory and Mels dancing at the school disco amongst the cheap flashing lights, something they had never done. It took her a few minutes to realise where she was: a hotel in Florida, asleep on the sofa in her parent’s room…

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Tabitha said. “It’s only nine in the evening. Me and your dad were going to go down to the theatre. And maybe pick up some Christmas presents.”

“Oh,” Amy said. “Right. Tired.”

“You were running round all day like a mad thing. All three of you were. Rode Space Mountain five times, or you and Mels did.” Augustus Pond entered, wearing a Toy Story tie. “Hey. The other two are dead to the world. Wanna come to the theatre, Amy?”

“Nope. Gonna stay and sleep.”

Tabitha rose from her seat. “Right. See you later…” At a look from Augustus, she suddenly knelt near Amy. “Hey. There was something we wanted to ask. I know Rory is very sensible, but Mels…”

“What?”

“Are you quite sure it’s…”

“…cool, for them to be sharing a room?” Augustus cut in.

Amy laughed. “Mum, Dad, Rory’s gay.”

This took them by surprise. “Are you sure?” Tabitha asked.

“Yeah. Think about it. When’s he ever shown interest in a girl?”

“Never…” Tabitha said thoughtfully. “Certainly not Mels, and she’s very pretty.”

Augustus nodded slowly. “Plus, he wants to be a nurse and all…”

Tabitha rolled her eyes at him. “Okay. Well, glad we cleared that up. See you later, Amy.”

“See you.”

*

At almost exactly midnight, Rory woke up in the dark.

“Mels,” he whispered. “Hey, Mels.”

Mels stirred. “Amy?” she said, in a sleepy voice that seemed to echo in from a distance.

“What? No, it’s me, Rory. We’re in Disneyworld, remember? For Christmas.”

“Oh yeah.” Mels turned around to face him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I guess I don’t sleep well in new places.”

“I do fine.”

“You were nicking stuff from the gift shop earlier, weren’t you?”

Mels jolted a little at the sudden change of subject, and then laughed. “So what if I was?”

“You can’t just steal things! Did Amy see?”

“No, she was flirting with the Johnny Depp lookalike outside Pirates of the Carribbean. I didn’t take much.”

Rory jumped off the bed and turned the light on. “You can’t do that sort of thing! You’ll get put in prison, or…shot or something!”

“Shot?”

“American police have guns!”

Mels just laughed. “Here.” She reached under her bed and took out a expensive-looking golden pen. “Stuffed it under my jumper. Might sell for something on Ebay.”

“Mels…”

“I got these too.” She retrieved a bunch of DVDs. “I might keep some of them. I always liked The Lion King.”

Rory sighed. “This is stupid. Why d’ya do it?”

“I just…do.”

“But what about the people you’re stealing from?”

“I’m sure they can afford it.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Save the lecture, alright?”

Rory rolled his eyes and turned off the light. “I suppose you’ll be stealing from us next? Me and Amy and our parents? What makes us different from anybody else?”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” Mels said. She said it in a voice so quiet and so earnest that something odd happened- Rory realised he loved her like a sister.

“Just yourself,” he said gently, in a tone an older brother would use. “Mels, please.”

Mels sighed. “Alright. I’ll try. Don’t wanna get shot, after all. Now, no more lecturing, alright? You’re not…” Rory waited for my dad. “The Doctor. You’re not the Doctor.”