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November's End | A Doctor Who fic (M)

alejandra xx

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Hi, erm, this is my first fanfic. Of anything. Ever. And I'm not quite done with the story yet, but I'll finish as I go along. The sneezing starts quite late into the story, I apologize.

A bit of 11/Amy. This is set somewhere around the time of The Beast Below, I suppose. Early on, you know.


Amy Pond awoke slowly and sat up, dangling her feet over the edge of the bed. She stepped onto the cool floor and looked around. Something wasn’t right. The lights of the TARDIS were flashing as they always did, the normal clicks and beeps were clicking and beeping, but there was something—a stillness, an emptiness. And then she realized: the Doctor wasn’t there.

Quickly pulling a t-shirt over her head, she rushed barefoot across the console room to the Doctor’s bedroom, finding that the door was closed. Opening the door, she carefully peeked inside and realized—the Doctor was still sleeping! Amy walked silently to the Doctor’s bed, peering down at him. His face looked positively adorable as he peacefully slept, and Amy almost didn’t want to wake him. But something was wrong, and she knew she had to wake him up. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. “Doctor?”

His eyes opened slowly and then, realizing the situation, he jerked awake and sat up very quickly.

“A—“ he began to speak, but his voice cut off. He cleared his throat, preparing to try again. “Amy, what’s happened?” Amy looked at him with slight concern. “Nothing, I just—well—usually you’re awake before me.”

The Doctor got out of bed. “Right, you are quite right, I guess I just – overslept,” he said, buttoning a shirt around himself. Amy left the room to be polite, and a few minutes later, the Doctor emerged, fully clothed. “So—where shall we go today?”

Amy blushed. “Well, first, I need to put bottoms on,” she said, gesturing to her bottom half, clothed only in panties. The Doctor paused. “Right. Of course.”

Amy laughed and hit the Doctor playfully on the head. “You can be so forgetful sometimes!” she said, turning around and walking back to her bedroom.

When he was sure she was out of sight, the Doctor put a hand to his head. For some reason the playful slap had hurt a lot more than intended, which didn’t make sense because Amy had done that before. It felt like the pain was deep inside his head, like he had a headache, but he dismissed it, dropped his hand, and quickly walked down the hall to the console room.

A few minutes later, Amy appeared in jeans and a t-shirt. The Doctor was fiddling with knobs and buttons, quickly darting from left to right, back and forth, back and forth, pulling and pushing all sorts of levers. Finally he stopped, threw his hands up in the air, and triumphantly shouted, “Okay!” He turned to Amy. “Now that I’ve fixed that, where do you want to go?” Amy frowned slightly. “What did you fix? She asked curiously. “That doesn’t matter now,” the Doctor replied. “It’s fixed and over and done with.” Amy smiled, albeit a bit nervously. “I guess you’re right,” she said. She wandered around the console room, looking at all the flashing lights as she had done so many times before. Why did they seem dimmer today? She turned around and faced the Doctor. “Let’s go to a planet I’ve never seen before,” she said. The Doctor thought for a moment, then, suddenly, his face lit up. “I know just the place,” he said excitedly. He pushed a few buttons and levers and they were off. The Doctor quickly hurried down the stairs to the lower level of the TARDIS and headed towards a closet door.

Amy quickly followed behind him. “Where are you going?” she asked, grabbing his elbow as he opened the door. The Doctor turned around to face Amy. “It’s okay,” he replied, “I’m just getting a jumper.” He pulled one off the rack and pulled it over his head, then flipped the collar of his shirt over and straightened his bowtie. “Don’t you think it’s a bit cold in here?”

Amy shook her head, a confused look on her face. “No,” she answered, “I think it feels quite nice, actually.” She demonstrated by stretching her bare arms above her head and grinning. The Doctor shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, climbing the stairs back up to the console room. Amy reached the top of the stairs and stood next to the Doctor. She opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly the TARDIS began shaking uncontrollably and the Doctor only had enough time to shout “grab on to something!” before the lights of the TARDIS went out.

Amy’s eyes snapped open. “Doctor?” she scrambled to her feet. “Doctor?!” “It’s okay, the Doctor replied, slipping this hand into hers. “I’m right here. Are you all right?” Amy smiled. I’m fine. What happened?” I’m not sure,” the Doctor said, taking out his sonic screwdriver. “I think we’ve crashed.” He shined the screwdriver around the room and walked about, muttering “which lever… which lever…”

Suddenly, he hovered the sonic’s light over a certain lever, exclaimed “ah!” and threw the lever with all his might. The lights of the TARDIS came on again. Amy smiled nervously. “Now,” the Doctor said, “let’s see where we are.” The screen flickered with static for a second, then cleared up to reveal a dry planet that featured long stretches of cracked dirt, like an extremely dehydrated desert on earth. “We definitely crashed,” the Doctor declared, “on Oscon. Would be a nice planet, really, but the race that live here don’t take very good care of their environment.”

The Doctor walked over to the door and opened it. Amy followed. “So does this have something to do with the thing you supposedly fixed earlier today?” she asked.

“Well, it sort of possibly could have contributed to it a little, yes.”

“How much could it have contributed?” Amy asked raising an eyebrow.

“Completely,” the Doctor murmured, distracted, frantically walking around the TARDIS and inspecting for damage. He straightened up to his full height to inspect the upper half of the TARDIS and walked, slower this time, around the exterior of the time machine, staring at it carefully. “If the damage isn’t on the inside … it must be … on the outside.” He reached up and carefully touched a corner, which was covered with markings that almost looked like burns. “Oh, I’m sorry, love.” He turned to Amy. “We have to leave right now,” he said, “I hope you understand—“

“Completely,” Amy said. A worried expression crossed her face. “is there something wrong with the TARDIS?” “Yes,” the Doctor said, “but we can fix it if we leave right now.” Amy, without hesitation, darted to the tardis and pushed open the door. The doctor followed.

Ten minutes later, the TARDIS was sailing peacefully along. Amy leaned against a railing, watching the doctor work. He’s…actually pretty cute, she thought. The way his hair flopped to one side, the way he always seemed to be so energetic, so full of life. “Again, sorry about having the leave that planet so quickly,” the Doctor said to Amy, not looking up from his work. Amy waved her hand in dismissal. “it’s fine, really,” she said. The doctor nodded. “good, I’m glad you understand. The climate on that planet—there was a chemical in the air that was harmful to the TARDIS’ machinery.”

“It can’t do anything harmful to us, right?” Amy asked uneasily. The Doctor shook his head. “No,” he said, “Probably not.” The Doctor stopped working on the controls for a moment and walked up to Amy, reaching inside his jacket. “But just to be sure…”

He flashed the sonic screwdriver a couple of times to get it working, then looked up with a small smile. “Say ahh.”

Amy rolled her eyes and smirked. “Spoken like a true doctor,” she said, and opened her mouth widely. The Doctor shined the sonic around in her mouth and throat, but saw nothing. He shined it up her nose and saw nothing unusual, then pressed a few buttons on the TARDIS to x-ray her lungs. “Everything’s fine, Pond.” He said, smiling. “I didn’t even know the TARDIS had an x-ray,” Amy said.

“Well, thankfully, I haven’t had to use it much.” The Doctor replied, smiling. “There are other rooms on the TARDIS, aren’t there?” Amy asked. “Yes, of course.” The Doctor said, “Hundreds, thousands—an infinite number. I’ve never seen all the rooms on this ship and I probably never will—and that’s saying something, considering I’m a Time Lord.” he said. Amy smiled.

Amy heard the TARDIS land and walked over to the door. It was raining. She peered out of the door’s window and saw they were in a big city with lots of skyscrapers, but she didn’t quite recognize the exact location. “Doctor?” she said, turning to look at him. She raised one eyebrow in a questioning sort of expression.

“Minnesota,” he clarified, “November 1987. I quite like the name Minnesota. Great name. I thought it’d be a bit sunnier here, however—oh well, we take what we get.” He ran down the stairs and grabbed two raincoats and a jumper for Amy. Returning to the console room, he handed Amy the jumper and one of the raincoats. “Put these on, the temperature outside is nearly freezing.” Amy slipped the jumper on, the raincoat followed. The Doctor donned his raincoat as well. Outside, it seemed colder than expected--to the Doctor, anyway. The rain almost seemed to be turning to snow. Amy, huddled in her clothing, hurried along the street next to the Doctor. There wasn’t a huge amount of people on the streets, because of the weather, but the city was till quite busy: everywhere they looked, people rushed from one place to another, signs blinked, buses lurched to halts at transit stops, mothers pulled their crying children along. Amy pointed to a bookstore. “Let’s go in here for the time being.” the Doctor nodded, grateful. All the noise of the outside city had his head spinning.

They headed to the back of the bookstore where they could discuss things quietly. Amy took a book off of the shelf and pretended to read the back of it until the other man, who had been sitting in the room, had gone. She looked up at the Doctor. “Why are we here?” she asked. He raised his eyebrows. “Well, you said you wanted to come into the bookstore…” he began.

Amy shook her head. “No, I mean, why are we in Minnesota? Of all places in the universe…”

The Doctor shrugged. “The TARDIS took us here. That’s just how it works: we go where the TARDIS thinks we need to go.” Amy frowned. “But it seems so much more specific than that. A certain date, a certain place, a certain time…”

She strode up to the bookstore’s front desk, where an oldish woman was typing on a very old, very chunky computer. “May I help you?” the woman asked, smiling at Amy. Amy had her hands on the desk, elbows locked, propping herself up like a small child. “Sorry, but what’s the date?”

“November 31st,” the woman replied.

Amy paused. “Don’t you mean November 30th?” she asked. “Or December 1st?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m positive it’s November 31st.”

Amy stared at her. “But there is no November 31st.”


Shall I continue?

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Yes! Continue! Well done for your very first fic, and thanks for contributing to the 11th doctor community :) We just don't have enough Doctor Who fics on here, in my opinion!

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Yes! Continue! Well done for your very first fic, and thanks for contributing to the 11th doctor community :) We just don't have enough Doctor Who fics on here, in my opinion!

Thanks! And yes, I agree. c: I'd really like to see more.

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Really good first story; and I can't wait till the next bit and some top sneezing. And excellent additions to Tardisology.

And welcome to the forum....

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Thanks count de tisza :innocent:

Part 2. Here we go!


The woman looked quite annoyed now. Amy was confused, and then suddenly she became scared and scurried to the back of the store, where the Doctor was reading a biography of a civil war hero. “He’s portrayed as a lovely man, not particularly nice in person th—Amy?” Amy stood in front of him; eyes plastered wide open as if the Doctor was a weeping angel. “The woman—the woman says it’s November 31st,” she stuttered. The Doctor closed the biography.

“What woman?” he asked.

“The one who’s working at the front desk,” Amy replied. The Doctor placed the biography on the shelf and walked to the front desk. He looked at the woman for a moment, then took Amy’s hand. “Outside—I need to check something,” he said, pushing the door of the bookstore open. It closed behind them with a jingle of the bells that were attached.

Outside, he spun around, looking for a newspaper box. It seemed to be even colder than before. Finally he glimpsed a shiny red box in the distance and ran towards it. Amy followed. They arrived at the box and he knelt down, looking at the date. NOVEMBER 31, 1987, the paper read. He looked at Amy. “The woman’s right,” he said, moving over slightly to read the blue newspaper box. NOVEMBER 31, 1987. The green newspaper box. NOVEMBER 31, 1987. “They’re all the same,” the Doctor said. “We’re trapped in a day that doesn’t exist.” He jumped up and began to run.

They ran quickly, attempting to dodge the rain. “This is extremely, very not good,” the Doctor muttered, running towards the TARDIS. He threw open the door, dashed immediately to the controls, and began pressing buttons and pushing levers, apparently attempting to fly the TARDIS away, which seemed to Amy like a bloody good idea.

But it didn’t seem to be working. The TARDIS would just not lift off. It seemed keen on staying exactly where it was. Amy tried to remain calm and looked out of the windows on the door of the TARDIS.

“Not the best weather out there, eh, Doctor?” she said with a half-smile, trying to lighten the situation. A few moments passed, and the Doctor said nothing. “Doctor?” she asked, turning around. Her smile faded. The Doctor was leaning on the controls, completely bent over, clutching his head. His facial expression indicated pain. Extreme pain, almost. “Doctor!” Amy cried, rushing towards him. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him. “What’s happening?” she asked worriedly. The doctor opened his eyes and slowly, slowly stood up. Amy stared at him, very concerned. “Are you all right?”

The Doctor winced. “Headache,” he answered.

Amy’s eyes trailed upwards to his forehead, where there were small droplets of water. “You’ve got some rain on you,” she said, and reached up to wipe it off. To her surprise, his skin was extremely hot to the touch. She spread her hand across his forehead, and looked him straight in the eyes. “What is the normal body temperature of a Gallifreyan?” she asked, in a rather serious tone.

“Erm, well--” the Doctor stuttered. “Er—”

Amy quickly slipped a hand inside the Doctor’s jacket pocket, grabbed the sonic, and shined it at his forehead. “Blimey,” he exclaimed, throwing a hand over his eyes. “That’s bright.”

“Well, now you know how it feels,” she said, looking down at the sonic. “This conveniently tells me that Gallifreyans are normally 100 degrees Fahrenheit. And you, Doctor, are 104.2. Bed. Now.”

“Hey,” he said, “Who makes the rules around here?”

Amy returned the sonic to the Doctor’s pocket, and to her surprise it took a second before she heard it fall to the bottom. She pointed to his pocket. “Are those bigger on the inside as well?”

The Doctor smiled, and Amy went to touch the pockets. She noticed that his shirt and coat were both very, very wet. And cold. She also noticed, for the first time, that the Doctor was shivering. “You’re soaking wet,” she said, and for a moment her mind traveled back to that night in her garden. “I was in the swimming pool.”

“When this day, November 31st, ends, so will the world.” The Doctor said.

“How do you know?” Amy asked, dropping her hand to her side and studying the Doctor’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, but—“Heh’stchh!” The Doctor sneezed with such force that it doubled him over again. He looked up at Amy. “Sor—Heh’tchoo!’ He bent over again, just avoiding Amy. “Sorry.”

“You’re ill,” Amy said. “And don’t even try to deny it, Doctor.”

“Who says I’b dedying it?” the Doctor replied, noting that his voice had become more congested. He stood, and strode to the door.

“Come along, heh’stchoo! Abelia Podd, we’ve got a world to save.”

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Intriguing :cryhappy: I like it quite a lot! One small point (because I'm a nerd and a stickler for details :innocent:), the Doctor's actual body temperature is about 15 degrees celsius (60 degrees Farenheit), not 100. He'd be cooking!

Only cuz I'm picky. Very interesting story and a lot of fun to read!

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Intriguing :cryhappy: I like it quite a lot! One small point (because I'm a nerd and a stickler for details :innocent:), the Doctor's actual body temperature is about 15 degrees celsius (60 degrees Farenheit), not 100. He'd be cooking!

Only cuz I'm picky. Very interesting story and a lot of fun to read!

Sdslfa, crap! I am so bad at remembering those things, so I just sorta made it up. Must remember not to do that. D:

Thank you though!

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This is awesomeeeeee! I love your personification of the both of them, I could totally see this being an episode :innocent: Thanks for sharing, and I look forward to the next part! :cryhappy:

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Er, hello, um... I'm sorry to say that I won't be continuing this fic. I thought I had a plan for the plotline but I just don't really see it going anywhere. Sorry! I'm sort of bad at finishing things I start. Oh well. Perhaps I'll write another fic in the future and hopefully finish that one, xD

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Hmmm... I'm definitely intrigued by November 31st! Can't wait to find out what happens to the poor Doctor next!

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Now I stop being lazy and start reading this lovely fick. You make me greedy for more~ x3

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  • 7 months later...
  • 1 month later...

Er, hello, um... I'm sorry to say that I won't be continuing this fic. I thought I had a plan for the plotline but I just don't really see it going anywhere. Sorry! I'm sort of bad at finishing things I start. Oh well. Perhaps I'll write another fic in the future and hopefully finish that one, xD

Um…well, just out of curiosity, would you mind if I finished the fic for you? I have a couple of ideas, and I'd love to be helpful. Only if you're okay with it, though.

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