Notes: This is just a little one-shot I came up with. I don't own Doctor Who (*sigh*). I hope you like it. :)
How long had it been now? Fourteen years, three months, twenty-four days. He never lost track of time; ironically, keeping track of the time was a great way to pass the time. And with two thousand years to spare, he needed to have something to keep himself busy.
So far he hadn't gone crazy, so he considered that a win on his part. Rory kept himself busy by tracing patterns on the Pandorica with his finger, memorizing the dips and indentions in the hard surface. Sometimes he forced himself to just sit and keep watch, staying vigilant and aware to any and every sound, of which there was usually none. Mostly, Rory passed the time by doing the easiest thing in the world: Thinking.
With all the time in the world to himself, he had found that he had a plethora of things to think about, ranging from unimportant, silly things to long-unanswered questions. Sometimes thinking so deeply made him angry or upset, so he'd go back to tracing the designs of the Pandorica. But, eventually, he'd slip back into thinking about something.
He tended to try to think about Amy whenever he was upset; she always made him smile, even while trapped inside of a giant, ominous cube. Whenever his thought process started leaning towards the negative, he pictured her emerging after two thousand years, grinning at him with that beautiful smile. Her coppery red hair would be a welcome site after all that time staring at those dark, gray walls.
Sometimes, as he would stare at those blank walls for hours on end, Rory would start to get that feeling in his chest that reminded him of how much longer he had left to wait. He wasn't even a fourth of the way through, and he was well aware of that. A heavy weight would start to grow until he felt like he almost couldn't take it anymore. It would be so easy to walk away. And he was sure it wouldn't harm anything.
But he never did. He couldn't. Rory would suck it up and banish the dark thoughts from his mind and go back to more important things: protecting Amy. After all, she was why he was doing this in the first place. He was doing this to keep those beautiful green eyes safe. To keep those freckled cheeks unscathed. To keep Amy alive and well.
Amy was the only thing that kept Rory sane as he waited and waited throughout the years. He'd trace, keep lookout, think, get angry, then think some more, and he was sure that one day the repetitiveness of it all would drive him into madness, but it never did. He'd remember Amy, and he'd know it would be ok. He could wait two billion years, and it would still be ok. Amelia Pond, the girl who waited for The Doctor all those years ago, was most certainly worth the wait.