A/N: Unless something like this happened in canon, I nominate Rory and Amy for worst parents of the year award. I mean, seriously? You just leave your kid to be raised as a brainwashed and crazy killer-of-your-best-friend? You don't order the Doctor to break the laws of time and space to save her? You stop mentioning her? You don't even cry after she's gone? You're not traumatized in the least by the fact that your daughter was kidnapped at one month old, raised by a creepy lady with an eyepatch, probably spent a lot of time hanging around THE FREAKING SILENCE, and grew up in an orphanage in the 60s in another country? What is wrong with you?

I love Rory and Amy, but this has been bugging me ever since Let's Kill Hitler. So this is my imagination of what happened after said episode.

After all was said and done, after learning everything that had happened to her precious little girl... She managed to hold it together just long enough to make sure River was alright.

And then Amelia Pond walked calmly into the TARDIS, ignored any consolation by the Doctor or Rory, locked herself in a cupboard, and cried like a baby.

"Amy," Rory's voice was muffled by the door. "Amy, let me in."

Amy couldn't speak between sobs. It wasn't fair. Why her daughter? Why Melody? She pounded her fists in anger against the side of the cupboard, screaming nonsense.

"Amelia," this time it was the Doctor. "Let us in."

The anger she felt as she heard his voice overwhelmed her. It was his fault. If he hadn't crashed into her backyard all those years ago, none of this would've happened. She and Rory would've been together. Melody would be a fully-human, happy little girl.

A buzzing sound. Stupid, stupid Doctor with his screwdriver. Didn't he think she paid attention? She'd chosen her hiding place well.

"Oh, Amelia, you clever girl," the pain in the Doctor's voice made Amy smile in satisfaction. "You've outdone yourself. A wooden cupboard. And deadlocked sealed."

Indeed. Also soundproofed. They couldn't hear her, and no sonic screwdriver was going to get through this door.

"Why don't you open up, now?"

"This is your fault!" Amy screamed, knowing he couldn't hear her, but not caring.

"Amy... Amy, please. Answer me, at least."

Amy glared at the door.

"You're scaring me; let me in."

Amy shrunk back to the corner of the cupboard.

"What do you want me to do? To say? That it's my fault? Amy, it's my fault. All of it. Everything. I couldn't save Melody and I'm sorry."

"Like that's good enough," Amy growled.

"I'm sorry, Amy; there's nothing more I can do."

She heard his footsteps retreat. Amy sat in silence for a few minutes, tears still flowing.

All those things she missed. First laughter, first words, first steps. Starting school, crushes, boyfriends, shopping trips. It didn't matter that it was Mels. She hadn't been able to raise her daughter. Her daughter had grown up in an orphanage, brainwashed. Who knows what had happened to her. What Kovarian had done to her. If Amy ever saw Madame Kovarian again, the eye-patch lady would be dead. Slowly and painfully, if she had her way.

"Amy?" Rory again. "You don't have to let the Doctor in. Just let me in."

Amy hesitated.

"Please."

Amy stumbled to her feet, barely able to stand from how hard her body shook with sobs. She unlocked the door and fell into Rory's arms.

His face was stained with tears. Wordlessly, held her as she bawled into his shoulder. He stroked her hair.

"Amy?"

Amy lunged at the Doctor. "You did this!"

Rory grabbed her waist, pulling her back. "No, he tried to help, Amy. It's alright. He's not the one who took her from us."

Amy shook her head. "No, it's not."

"What?"

"It's not 'alright.'"

Rory turned to the Doctor. "You'd should go. I'll take care of her"

The Doctor nodded, staring at Amy before backing away and returning to the console room.

Rory held Amy in front of him, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "Do you think you can make it our room?"

She shook her head and Rory did something he'd never done before. He picked her up, staggering a bit under her weight, and carried her to their room.

"Do you want to go home?" Amy asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know you've always wanted to go. We could now."

"Not like this," Rory told her, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"So we stick around until he kicks us out?" Amy gave a watery, bitter laugh.

"No. Maybe a month or two more. I don't want you to hate him the rest of your life. It's not right. Give him a chance to make up for— not that he ever can— but to try and make it up to us."

"Okay," she managed.

Rory kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Amy nodded, lying down on the bed. Rory pulled a blanket on top of her. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

Amy closed her eyes, trusting Rory. He seemed to be the only one who would never let her down.