This is another of my spoiler laden, Dr Who angst fest drabbles. Be prepared for a lot of angst and maybe a tear or two? Tell me if you do! (And the title comes from my younger brother who described Amy as "like a ninja, but made of scrap", so blame him!)

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Amy had known she wasn't Amy 1. She was too late, 36 years too late. Too old for Rory, just too, too old.

And as the handbots closed in, she forced herself to think "it doesn't matter, soon this won't exist". But it did, it did exist and so did she.

And as the cold hand came towards her neck, her last thought was that maybe she hadn't been too old for Rory. But she was too old for herself.

She wanted to be the same age as him. Young with him, then old with him. It just wasn't fair.