Rory moved in his sleep, somewhere in between being asleep and awake, and Amy knew that if she so much as nudged him, he would be awake. But she didn't. She hadn't yet slept herself, but she didn't feel as if she could anyway, and she had no idea what to do. As slowly and gently as she could, she slid out of bed and tiptoed downstairs, plopping herself down in the comfiest armchair when she reached the living room.
She felt herself once again start to break into the tiny pieces she had felt herself going into last night when they had seen… it.
She didn't want to think about it. What had happened; what was going to happen.
"Urgh!" she exclaimed in anger. She had seen what was going to happen in the future, and she couldn't do anything to stop it. Sometimes she hated time travel.
She felt herself being transported into her memories, back to the last time she had thought he was going to die.
"Was it worth it?" he had said, 'what a stupid question' she had thought, "of course it was," she had answered automatically.
But now she had to think about it, was it really?
'Yes,' she told herself sternly.
Her life without the Doctor? Missing all those incredible things? She wouldn't have wanted it.
Rory was amazing, and she would always love him till the end of forever, but she and the Doctor had something deeper, something to the core.
When your imaginary friend comes back and shows you all of time and space, and what it's like to have someone really care about you, someone you can trust with your life and not think twice; that doesn't leave you in a hurry.
At that moment she heard the floorboards creak as Rory made his way downstairs. She glanced at the clock, 4am.
He got to the doorway and rubbed his eyes, every atom of his existence emitting tiredness.
He looked up at her and the expression that passed over his features was one that she never, ever wanted to see, especially when he was looking at her.
It was a look of pit, of apology, and of deep sadness.
She realised how pathetic she must look curled up in a chair, knees to her chin with tears streaming down her face.
He ran over, waking up quickly, and sat down next to her. After a second he picked her up so she was sat on his knee.
She turned her body around so all she could see was him, and began to cry loud and hard.
All Rory could do was sit and stroke her comfortingly, and try to calm her down without much success.
But he was there, and that was all that mattered to her.
When the sun finally rose, and she had cried her eyes dry, she looked at the man who had been holding her for the past two hours, and tried to say something, anything. A word of apology? A word of thanks? But all that came out was a slightly strangled noise.
Rory nodded, he had always had a way of knowing what she was feeling ever since they were little kids.
"I can't - it can't be real," she said shaking her head, "there's got to be a way we can stop it…" but even as she said the words she knew there was no way.
River had said they couldn't interfere with the Doctor's future, and as much as he would love to stop him ever going there, he knew he couldn't. Deep down, he knew River was right.