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There were three things he had to do.
Four really. He had to think about the other three things but thinking was
its own separate thing. A thing he couldn't do either.
He'd locked himself into the TARDIS console room. Or rather
locked Amy out. Separated them somehow. He hoped that whatever room he'd shoved Amy into would at least be interesting, because
he was going to need quiet to think.
Only it wasn't working. Apparently his thought processes required immediate danger
to function. He was trying to explain to himself that the cracks in the walls of the universe were immediate, even if they
weren't there right then.
That seemed to do the job.
His problems were three-fold. He needed to, in no particular
order, the following:
- save the universe. Pond seemed to be caught up in whatever it was, and he couldn't figure out
how she was involved, or how to stop it. He was trying to keep that last part to himself.
- save River. Whatever reason
she had for killing him must have been a good one. And of course she wouldn't tell him what, or how to avoid it, because he
would, at some point in her past, and his future, drum it into her that the timeline must be preserve at all costs. Gosh,
he was an idiot.
- buy more custard creams. The TARDIS was absolutely without and he was ravening.
He strongly
suspected that trying to sort out any one of those problems was going to cause the other. If he tried to stop the cracks,
he would cause River to do whatever it was that she'd done. If he tried to save River by avoiding her, it might destroy the
universe, because she was waiting for him where the fairy tales were born. And if he stopped off at a corner shop for some
custard creams, the cracks might catch up with them. If that was the kind of thing that they did. He needed more information,
but he didn't have the time to get it.
Time, he felt, was playing tricks on him, River was infuriating, because she
knew his future when he didn't, and he didn't like that, and yet. He looked forward to the day where they'd meet at an equal
stage of acquaintance, and he hoped that was the summer that he showed her all those things, because if not, then he was going
to do something desperate because he wanted to show her those things now, and he was having a hard enough time as it was keeping
track of his thoughts without them fizzing off like that.
Which was why he'd locked himself in here, because Amy was
all fizzing and he couldn't come up with a good reason why this was a bad thing, other than he was old enough to be her ...
he was old, bad idea. Very bad idea. And yet, he could understand her urge to sow her wild oats, because who didn't feel like
that when faced with big decisions.
Which didn't stop it being a bad idea, see also age, see also Rory.
He needed
to think. He needed custard creams. Urgently.
He also needed a plan, but he thinks that biscuits are the only way that
will happen. If he stops at the village shop for custard creams while he's trying to sort Amy out, that'll be okay, right?
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