DOCTOR AND AMY + the apple
he was lonely. she wanted the world
The Doctor starts out his journey loving something he will end up hating. An apple -> shown to represent 1) a craving 2) freshness. This instance serves as a suitable metaphor for a perspective of a companion he will inevitably end up leaving. In Amy Pond's final episode her daughter, River Song, advises her to never let (the Doctor) see the damage which can easily be read as an instruction against growing old. Amy is accused of having noticable lines on her eyes in the same episode. This is the episode in which she dies.
Amelia Pond starts out hating something she will end up loving. It is revealed that she, unlike the Doctor, used to hate apples. This was before her mother put faces on them, turning dislike into a symbol of love. Amy is shown to resent the idea of marriage. She is later praised for her role as a wife and a mother.
An apple, craving that is, for the Doctor equals the desire to be adored and never lonely. For Amy, an apple would reflect her wish to be free and see the world. The Doctor ends his run without Amy, his companion and fulfilment of his desire. What he has left is his ability to travel. Amy ends her run stuck in the past, unable to see the stars in a way she was shown possible. Alas, she is married and therefore isn't alone. For this she is crowned The Loving Wife. One could say the narrative implies this is what makes her worthy of being adored, a reason the Doctor lists while explaining why he chose Amy as a companion. Ultimately, both characters are left with the other's wish as though the story had a hard time telling them apart and therefore assigned them the other's ending on accident.
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"I don't understand what's- what's up with the four of you," the Chalice said through June's mouth. Barry's memories, which has previously been flicking by at a quick pace, had cut into a long period of static. "First your friends, and now you. I just don't get it."
"Don't look at me," Barry said. "I understand this about as well as you do."
The memories abruptly cut back to normal, aside from the faint static buzz around some scenes. Barry saw his college graduation, his mother's funeral, and the space class he took in high school. They ran by birthdays, holidays, and Barry's unfortunate emo phase in seventh grade. They went so far back that they hit the earliest memory Barry could recall at all: Coming downstairs for a glass of water and catching his mother crying.
"Okay," June said. "Alright, let's see."
The memories shot forward in time again and Barry saw flickers of the only school dance he went through and his first girlfriend and the time he spent all of winter break in the library instead of with family. They hit the period of static again and June began to slow the memories down. Going at this much more mellow speed, a few moments of static revealed simple memories.
Barry, sitting at a round table with staticky figures around him, enjoying a meal.
Barry, holding his wand up defensively.
Barry, crying with a staticky someone rubbing his back.
Barry, playing the piano, laughing at a joke, writing in a notebook, holding someone's hand.
The memories slowed to a complete stop. The one that formed around them flared and flickered, the static covering almost the entire scene. He could make out a bed, and something that was maybe a desk shoved into the corner. Memory-Barry was sitting up in bed, reaching for his glasses. In the midst of static, someone was standing halfway between the bed and the door.
"This, uh, this is your worst memory," June said. "Well, no, actually, not exactly. You have a lot of bad memories, Barry, this is just the one you regret the most."
"I have no idea what's going on here," Barry said, honestly. When he tried to remember it, he couldn't. He had gotten up in the middle of the night for loads of reasons before, but none of them would qualify as worst memories. "Is it like, a memory loss thing? Because I know I'm- I'm getting up there but I'm not that old yet."
"It's not an age thing," June said. "Like I said, everyone else was like that too. You've just got-" she gestured vaguely to the scene as if that would help Barry understand it. Then she shook her head. "Ya know what? Nevermind. It doesn't really matter. Look, we've run through your memories and this is the one you feel worst about. Are you tellin' me you don't remember it?"
"I mean," Barry said, trying to recall anything. Maybe it was all the static in the room, but there was a headache growing behind his eyes. He shut them, thinking hard.
When he opened them again, the scene was still staticky, but individual parts of the room stood out more. There definitely was a desk in the corner, and a tall dresser nearby. There were crumbled-up papers over the floor and Barry could recognize his portable radio, which came into crystal clear view as he remembered it.
And the person between the bed and the door- the woman, who was still shroud in static, but had come more into focus like he had slightly adjusted a camera lens- she...
"She's leaving," Barry said. "And she doesn't come back."
"Oh," June said. She tilted her head at the scene and the headache worsened as he tried to hold onto it. "I'll give ya this, Barry, you're friends certainly couldn't clear up their minds like this. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier."
"Kinda gives me a headache," Barry said, blinking away the static that started to crop up at the edge of his vision.
"This'll be quick," June said, cracking her knuckles. "I'm getting the vibes now. I'm gonna offer you a deal, Barry, and I just want you to hear me out. This person- this woman here-" June walked towards the woman, circling around her. "I don't think you know her very well right now, but she was... important to you, Barry. Much more than you or I can understand right now.
"This is your worst memory," June said. "And you've seen a lot of bad things. But her leaving and never coming back has to be the worse. So what I wanna offer you, right now, Barry, is this: You take the chalice and you'll come back. Right back here to this moment, as she..." June paused and Barry feels a bit like the chalice is rooting around in his mind for something. "As she tells you to go back to bed. You'll wake up and you can make her stay."
There's an ache in Barry's chest, one that often doesn't show up unless he's having a panic attack. It's a burning kind of feeling that envelops his entire heart, leaving it raw. He didn't know why it was happening now, but he can't deny that the offer to go back is incredibly appealing in this moment.
"But," June said. "I can't lie to you. If you do this, you won't join the Bureau. You won't work with Magnus or Merle or Taako, you might not even meet them. You won't go out on missions or stop some other things from happening, and you definitely won't be coming here to Refuge. I understand that's a lot to ask of you, but..." she looked towards the woman again and Barry did too, unable to help himself. "She won't be gone. And I think, if your heart, Barry, you know which one you want more."
June sat on the bed and the static spread from under her, trying to consume the scene completely again. He pushed it back in his mind, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.
June didn't comment on it. And she didn't comment on the fact that when he opened his eyes, his gaze went right back to the woman. She came into view a bit better this time. She had on a robe of some kind and there was something hanging from her belt, most likely a weapon even if Barry couldn't conjure up the correct shape. And he tried, he tried focusing on her more, bringing her to the forefront of his mind, but all he gained was a headache and a feeling of dread in his gut. He couldn't remember her face. He didn't know who she was.
But he wanted to.
"Well," June said, after a few minutes of Barry trying and failing to visualize her. "I don't mean to rush ya, Barry, but this episode's only supposed to be an hour long and you're just standing here."
"Sorry," Barry said, shaking his head. The room slipped back into total static. The bed June was sitting on could no longer be distinguished between that and the floor. The woman blended back in, barely noticeable. June stood up, stretching, and said,
"Let's get you back to your friends."
And Barry... Barry made his choice.
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