This is my very first Doctor Who fic. I've brainstormed many stories in the past, but the latest ep"The Girl Who Waited" really inspired me and I actually finished this one. I'm a little worried about not being in character, which is partially why I focused on Rory's point of view. Also I think Rory (and Amy) will really be affected by what happened in this episode, and indeed what's been happening this whole season. Anywho, i really hope you like it. Please let me know what you think! And anything I can improve on in future DW fics!
Rory waits for a while, his hand still on the glass, his ear against the wood. He can hear her voice, low and weathered, asking to see her home. Where she should be. He clenches his fists and lets himself drop against the closed TARDIS door. Outside she falls to the ground with a soft thud. Amy, his Amy. He gasps, tears falling down his cheeks. That is his wife outside. He had promised to love her and cherish her. He had promised to save her. Ahead the Doctor's spinning around the controls, taking them somewhere else, somewhere far, far away. Some other God-forsaken paradise planet where their lives could be twisted even more. And Amy. His Amy, unconscious but safe. She's safe. He keeps repeating this in his head until it stops making sense, even to him.
Hours later, he hasn't moved far, just to the step. He's had time to think. He isn't going to tell Amy that he kissed...well, her. It's not a secret, it's just complicated. This whole thing is complicated and all he wants is to take his wife somewhere where they can't be hurt anymore.
Eventually the Doctor stops moving, stops talking mindlessly to himself and sits down on the step next to him. Amy is still asleep, covered in some jacket Rory didn't even know the Doctor owned.
"She'll be alright," he whispers and Rory almost wants to laugh. He wants to tell him not to make promises he can't keep. Instead he just keeps staring at Amy, beautiful Amy. He imagines her 36 years later, lines weathering her face but just as breath-taking. He swears he will never miss those 36 years again. Never again. He then he curses himself and the Doctor and the entire universe, because even he can't make that promise right now.
Suddenly he turns back to the Doctor, "Did you always know it would never work? Saving both Amys?"
The Doctor keeps his gaze on Amy, and yet again Rory briefly wishes he could get a glimpse into his head. How does it work with 900 years of... stuff to work through every moment? How does he even have the capacity to care anymore? Amy met the Doctor when she was 8 and he was still cooking. She was as much an anchor to a new world for him as he was for her.
"I promised you I'd save her and there she is," he replies with a half smile that is not at all reassuring. "Safe."
He nods, of course, of course he knew; he's the Doctor. He wonders if he himself would've done anything differently had he known from the start he could only save one. He looks to his wife again, sleeping and peaceful and safe.
"Yeah, there she is." He says, letting out a sigh.
As the Doctor goes down the steps, he notices her stirring and moves swiftly next to her. Her eyes are open, drowsy but there she is. The Doctor pulls a face, and she chuckles. She still loves that stupid alien, she still trusts him. And he doesn't know whether he's relieved or haunted by the bitterness of the other Amy.
"I'll, ah, leave you two alone."
Rory places a hand on her cheek, searching for her eyes, searching for the Amy in them. It's there, faint, but there.
"You alright?"
She nods, not meeting his gaze but searching around the room. "M-hmm. Where is she?"
"I- " He pauses and looks to where the Doctor stood seconds ago. He knows he's still listening. "She fought off the robots while I was getting you into the Tardis, I tried to get her but I was too late. I'm sorry, I-"
Amy finally looks at him with a mixture of grief and relief. Even she isn't sure what exactly she should be feeling. "She saved me."
"Technically, you saved you." He says, hating the way his words feel like a cop out. A cheap band-aid on a gaping wound.
"Stop it." She pushes a weak hand against his chest, but smiles nevertheless and he feels a little better.
"I'm so glad you're okay." And the tone get serious again. He shifts slightly, only to get closer to her.
She nods, agreeing but only half-heartedly. "Yeah."
"Amy, I love you." He hadn't said it back when she told him earlier today, when they'd promised to save her. And the idea that she'd waited 36 years for those words... Never again.
She leans against him. "I love you too."
They stay like that for a while. In the rare quiet of the TARDIS console room. He's half worried that she'll fall asleep again, not quite sure what kind of alien tranquilizer they had dosed her with earlier.
"You used the Macarena for the memory." He says, nudging her a little, a teasing note on the end of his words.
She laughes, "Of course, you think I'd forget your stupid face when I kissed you then."
"Well, it was a bit of a shock." He shrugs, but laughs nevertheless. She had grabbed his shoulders and crushed her lips against his in the middle of the dance floor. It was such an Amy kiss; it was a perfect kiss.
He finds the Doctor leaning against the console, near that thing he thinks is the telephone, but maybe it's the air-conditioner. He looks worried, and for a moment Rory is glad. He should be worried. He should feel guilty. But he fights away the bitter thoughts because she's safe now. And she wouldn't be if it hadn't been for him. Of course, if it hadn't been for him she would never have-
"Where's Amy?" The Doctor breaks his train of thought and he turns to face him.
"Having a shower."
He nods, and it's only then that Rory notices that he's staring at him. "You lied to her, Rory."
It's an accusation, one that he almost wants to laugh at. But he understands. He doesn't lie. The Doctor lies, Riv- Melo- She lies too. But Rory Williams, he doesn't lie.
He mirrors the Doctor's nod. "I did. She trusts you more than anything. After everything that's happened she will still put her whole life into your clumsy hands. And today I saw an Amy that hates you. An Amy that didn't believe we were going to save her. She thought I had abandoned her. If she knew what you did- I would never do that to her. So yeah, I lied. But you need to be careful. Because you are her Raggedy Doctor. You are her hero, okay? And you've put me in danger, and her in danger and our daughter in so much danger. So you be careful."
His voice rises near the end of his speech, he hadn't planned it: it just kept coming out. He manages to calm down quickly enough, thankfully. He doesn't want Amy to hear.
The Doctor breaks his gaze for just second, turning around so he's leaning on the console with his hands, before looking back at him. "I'm not her only hero," he says, his voice old and cracked.
"What?"
He smiles, that smile again. It's supposed to be reassuring but it's not. It's a sad smile, and even the Doctor can't hide that. "Rory Williams. The Lone Centurian. You've saved her many more times than I have."
She's sitting on the bottom bunk, her damp hair falling over her shoulder as she brushes it. He's not sure why, but he knocks on the door of his own bedroom. She looks up and smiles, welcoming him home.
"Amy, can we talk?" He steps slowly into the room, closing the door behind him.
"Sure, what's up?"
He sits himself down onto the bed, and continues "I've been thinking. I don't know if I can do this anymore."
Her face scrunches up in confusion. "Do what?"
"This. The time travel, the aliens, the adventures." He says, and reaches out to take her hand, "I will follow you wherever you go, always. But if it were up to me, I'd take my beautiful wife and find a little house somewhere calm and quiet but with just enough shops. Maybe by the seaside. And we'd live there and we'd grow old there. Together. "
Amy smiles for a moment imagining the possibility, but then frowns again, "What about Melody?"
His heart drops a little, as it always does when he thinks of his little baby girl. "I don't know if there is a Melody anymore. Maybe it's just River Song, all grown up and River Song-y. If I could get our baby back, you know I would, Amy."
She nods, a little resigned, because neither of them are sure whether there is a daughter to save anymore. "I know."
He squeezes her hand gently until she looks up at him. "Maybe we could have another baby?"
"In our little house by the sea." Amy smiles again.
"A proper family."
She lets go of her hair brush and cups his cheek gently, "Soon, yeah? I'd like that too. Really, I would. Just... a little longer?"
"Okay." Rory nods in agreement and she rests her head on his shoulder.
Sometimes the stillness of the TARDIS irks him. Moving vehicles should feel like they're moving, but once the TARDIS is on its way, and there's nothing wrong, everything is completely still. It's unsettling, because his whole life has been rocking for the past two years. He doesn't trust stillness anymore, and he hates that. He used to love the calm and the quiet. But nowadays it's usually a signal for something bad. He wants to get back to that, more than anything, to the safe kind of quiet. Soon, though. He turns his head and presses a kiss into her hair. Soon.