I heard her fall and felt the thump against my chest as she impacted. I screamed in frustration and pain. I had to get help to her.
I held her, whispering soothing words as she sobbed in pain in my arms. I kissed her lips, Amy immiditelaly kisses back, if weakly. "It's OK. I'll get you to the hospital soon, love, I promise. It's alright. You'll be fine." Somehow, I knew she would be. I scooped her up from the ground and started to carry her towards the hospital (thank god Leadworth is a small village). Maybe it was because I died so many times, and came back from them all. Or maybe it was because I just was trying to convince myself and trying to sooth her in the process.
If you knew your best friend, lover, the girl who you fantasised over for years and got possessive over when she was with someone else, your wife, was going to get hurt, die, what would you do?
I can't think. I take her from my arms and place her down on a spare hospital bed letting her fiery red hair sprawl out. I talk to the receptionist, Grace, tell her that Amy needs to see a Dr because she fell, and she's unconscious and I don't want anything to be wrong with her. Tears threaten to fall, but I won't let them, I have to be strong, for Amy. Grace says that she'll get a Dr to Amy in 2 minutes. I thank her as I rush back to Amy.
Amy. Lovely, funny, sexy, gorgeous, stubborn, fiery Amy Pond. I lean over her and stroke her hair, smiling at how beautiful she is (even though she won't admit it. She usually chuckles, looks down, blushes, and hits me on the chest and says "Thanks, Stupid Face.").
I check her pulse, it's there, faster than usual, but it's there.
A few minutes later, the Doctors come and whisk her away to check her over; I thank them, as I go to sit down in the waiting room.
Sometime later Grace comes over and comforts me, considering I'm shaking like a volcano ready to erupt. "It's OK." She says, rubbing my back comfortingly, "She's strong, your Amy."
I'm shocked. I've never heard anyone call Amy mine before. I want to thank her, to hug her and cry into her shoulder because I don't think I can take waiting any longer, which is strange because I waited 2,000 years for her, but I suppose then I knew she'd be alright now, however, I don't. And that KILLS me.
The only thing I say after a minute of silence is, "Say it again." Grace looks confused, so I clear my throat and elaborate, "The bit you said about Amy."
She chuckles, as if she expected it and just looked confused to hear me say it, but says nothing about it, and obliges, "She's strong, your Amy." We talk for a while afterwards but only about recent events that I missed, due to "travelling".
She leaves when she see's Dr. Ramsden's son (another Dr Ramsden! Weird!) "Rory..."
"Listen, Ranjit, just give it to me straight. No cutting corners." I tell him, completely and utterly serious.
"Rory... I'm so sorry, for you, because you're gonna have to live with-"
"She's dead, isn't she?" I ask him, although I don't realise I've said it because the whole world just goes black. I find it hard to breathe. I sit down in a chair, every moment I've had with Amy flashing through my mind, from when I first met her, when she found out I'd loved her since I met her, when we kissed for the first time, when I told her I loved her and she said it back, when I proposed, travelling with the Doctor, guarding over the Pandorica, our wedding day, our wedding night, travelling with the Doctor (again), her face when she sees me holding Melody, her holding Melody, finding out who River was, and our last kiss.
Ranjit's voice cut me from my reverie, "Rory. Rory!" I looked up at him sadness evident in my eyes, "No. She isn't dead. I was going to say I was sorry for you because you're gonna have to live with Amy for the rest of your lives. She's fine, Rory. She's gonna have a huge headache when she wakes up, she's got a concussion, and she's unconscious, but she's OK. She woke up, and told us she landed on you. You are a true life-saver, Rory. If you weren't there, she would've died. You saved her life. Well done. Now, we'd like to get you checked out, so if you'd-"
"How dare you! Letting me think my wife was dead! That was cruel, sick and cold! What gives you the audacity to even think that you can do that? Don't talk to me! Just take me to see my wife, please." I yell, letting all my anger out at him, which is still rising. A few patients or family members turn toward us, because no-one has ever heard Rory Williams yell, or be angry, before.
"Rory she's-"He tries, but I cut him off still fuming.
"Unconscious! I know! Take me to her, NOW!" He looks taken aback and so he should be, but obliges.
As Ranjit leads me through the hospital hallways, I attempt to calm down before seeing Amy. As he turns the door handle I stop him. "Look, Ranjit, I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I-"
"It's OK." He answers, "I shouldn't have made you think Amy was dead. I'm sorry. You had every right to yell at me. Even?"
"Even." I say as I enter the room as I see my amazing wife, in all her glory.
I sit down in the chair beside her bed, and grasp her hand in mine.
"Amy. Amelia. Your mine. That is unbelievably amazing. I still can't believe it." I take a breath, my voice beginning to crack, out of happiness. "I was talking to Grace, the receptionist, she said, and I quote, "She's strong, your Amy." And, I thought yeah, she is, in so many more ways than you know. She's pretty strong, too. I love you. Wake up, please, Amy. I can't live without you. Your body's here, but not you. So, come back, you amazingly strong, stubborn, fiery woman."
"I love you, too, Stupid Faced Centurion." She says as she turns around with a smirk on her gorgeous face.
"Amy. Oh, thank god!" I exclaim as I engulf my wife in a hug, holding her forever not intending to let go. Eventually, she does, and comes with quip.
"I've always been yours. Just like your mine. Amy and Rory. Together like it should be."
"I like that." I tell her, sincerely.
We go home a few hours later and spend the night together.