Ever since the night he showed up in Amy's life, she had been obsessed. She told Rory and Mels the whole story numerous times and made them play dolls and dress up, coming up with stories and adventures that she'd have with her mysterious visitor of the night. Rory had never really gotten interested in any of it, only doing it because Amy wanted him to, and he would go to the end of the world for her... Well, technically, he'd go much farther than that. Mels, though, got just as obsessed as Amy. She wanted to know everything about the Doctor. Amy just thought that she was mystified and curious, wanting to have her adventures with him, but what Mels was really doing with the information was storing it for later. She was storing it for when she'd meet the Doctor. And kill him.
"Yeah," Amy nodded. They were both sitting on her big, soft sofa in the living room of hers and Rory's new flat. It was actually quite nice, considering the low budget they had. After the Doctor dropped them off from their honeymoon planet, Amy and Rory had settled down into the domestic life, organizing the house and being a married couple. That day, Amy had just finished the last of the boxes. It had been two months, but they'd worked hard. Still, Mels could see something that Amy was oblivious to, something that maybe Rory chose to be oblivious to. Their space was so... Blank. It really showed no character at all. The walls were all white, pictures in generic frames that hung up all over the wall with smiling faces of friends and family. But nothing recent, except for the wedding picture in the living room. All the furniture was purely functional. Mels knew why, too. This wasn't their home. The TARDIS was. This was what they used as some pit stop when the Doctor left them for his own adventures.
"Wait, was that the guy who was dancing with everyone?" Mels asked, remembering a few of their other friends mentioning a strange man being there. They had never said anything about the blue box appearing in the dance floor.
"Oh my God!" Amy grinned, holding back laughter to tell the story, "Yes! He danced with everyone. And by "everyone," I mean everyone."
"Yeah, I heard that part," Mels said in an ominous tone that made Amy very suspicious of what she had heard.
"What? What did you hear?" Amy narrowed her eyes, drawing her legs up to touch her chest.
"Just that Rory sat on the sidelines looking on with jealousy as his new wife pranced around and made google-y eyes at a mysterious, charming fella."
"That's not true!" she cried, digging her nails into the skin of her wrists. She hadn't made google-y eyes, had she? Rory wasn't still jealous, was he? Amy wanted to smack her forehead. She couldn't have ruined their wedding day! She hadn't meant to! It had meant so much to Rory, so, so much and she had ruined it all! Amy felt so horrible. "Who said that?"
"Helen," Mels smiled, loving the crazy reaction she was getting from Amy.
"Helen's fancied Rory since we were twelve," Amy pointed out.
"Yeah? And you've fancied the Doctor since you were seven," she retorted. Come on, Mother. You're not making the right choice! she thought. Amy and Rory were actually her parents and Mels was really Melody Pond, but nobody knew that. Not yet. Mels knew her own destiny: kill the Doctor. And a part of her actually believed that he deserved to die. All that power, and yet there was still evil, tears, and pain scattered all across history. Where was he all those times? Playing around in his stupid, blue box making sweet promises of adventure and excitement to little girls like her mother? Like Mels, herself? Why hadn't he ever come back for her? Why hadn't he saved her from that hell hole that was her childhood?
Yet the tales that Amy told... They told a different story. How the Doctor never used a weapon, just his screwdriver and brains... Amy told her how he's saved whole civilizations, whole galaxies, and just recently, the whole universe. Amy told her of the pain and guilt that crippled him sometimes for the ones that got left behind. Ones like Mels. Did he ever feel guilty for not coming back for her? The Doctor that Amy described was so different from the Doctor she was brainwashed into thinking, and that contrast irked her. Was she killing the savior of many? Or killing a silly, childish man filled with lies and empty promises?
"Mels, it's not like that any-" Amy started to explain.
"I know for a fact that you and Rory belong together," she interrupted. Mels knew what she had to do. She was going to kill the Doctor, leaving her mother, her best friend in a very vulnerable, depressed state. Though Mels wasn't too into dealing with the feelings of others, she cared about Amy. So, she was going to break Amy's faith and love in the Doctor. It needed to be done, and maybe by the time Mels got her hands on the Time Lord, he would be just a memory to her best friend. "You're going to have children and be the happiest little couple in Leadworth."
"But I don't think I'm ready to settle down into Leadworth yet," Amy sighed, "It all sounds a bit boring if you ask me."
"So, you're just going to spend the rest of your days in a time machine with some old madman? Rory loves you. Always has. He's always been there for you. Has the Doctor? No."
"That's not fair! He didn't mean to!" she argued, feeling a little offended for the Doctor, "And I know that Rory loves me. I love him too. But there's so much out there. You just don't know! I mean, how can I pass up Mars in 5607 for a quiet life in Upper Leadworth?"
"Because Rory will be waiting in that boring, old village. And I'll visit to spice things up a bit!" Mels replied, "You have to stop with the blind faith in the Doctor, Amy. It's time to grow up."
Amy looked down at her hands, remembering how Rory had said almost the exact same thing while stuck between dream worlds.
"We have to grow up sometime," said Rory.
"Yeah?" she replied, "Says who?"
Amy still fully trusted that crazy, old man. No one could break that. But Mels was right about one thing. Maybe it was time to grow up. For Rory. He'd done so much for her... So much. It was her turn. Why did he have to want something she wanted nothing to do with?
"'Tick-tock' goes the clock..."
Amy looked at the TV, then listened all around her, wondering where that had come from. It was a nursery rhyme, or so it sounded like, being sung by two children. It was slow and haunting and unexplained, which scared Amy the most. "Did you hear that?" Amy asked Mels, looking all around her.
"Hear what?" Mels clearly didn't know what she was talking about.
"Never mind. It was probably the telly or something."
"'Tick-tock' goes the clock."
… Maybe not.