Rory was confused. He was sure that just a second ago, he had been standing in that grave yard, contemplating whether dread or curiosity was coiling in the pit of his stomach as he read out his own name on a grave stone, and now …
He looked around. It was dark, but the shadows of looming trees reaching over him almost protectively were lean against the slightly lighter shade of sky. He trod the ground lightly – it was spongy and soft. In the distance there was a lamp post, and the glow of superficial light. Rory concluded that he was in a park, and he didn't like that fact that when he turned around Amy was no longer there.
As if she had heard him call wearily across the void, Amy appeared with a flash of dull silver light, sobbing, collapsing to the floor. Rory caught her just in time, but her momentum was just too swift, and he only managed to regain his balance as he dropped to his knees, cradling Amy in his arms.
She was sobbing and she clung so hard to his jacket that her knuckles almost glowed white in the dark. He brushed her hair riddled with tears from her face, tucking the damp locks behind her ear, knowing only that he had to calm her and comfort her.
"Amy, it's okay." He tried softy, patting her hair gently with one hand while he hugged her tight with the other. "Amy, you need to breathe."
Amy's breath came out shuddered and staggered as she tried to tame her breath and dry her eyes. Her arms swam, lost, up past his shoulders and wound around his neck, the warm embrace calming her heart and drying her eyes. It's okay, because she was with Rory now, and that's all that mattered.
"What happened?" Rory murmured into her hair, one finger threading through the red. "Where's the Doctor?"
"He's not coming." She whispered. "There was a survivor – an angel." Her hands patted the back of Rory's neck and head. "I came after you."
Rory dropped soft kisses behind her ear. He was thankful she said that – I came after you – because he would've been shattered if she had chosen the Doctor; chosen to remain with the Doctor instead of risking being touched by a weeping angel and getting sent to the wrong time period. He hugged her tighter.
"It's called marriage." He repeated what Amy had said to himself. Amy didn't catch it, but she didn't mind, because Rory was here in her arms, and she was so glad that she came after him. Because the moment he had disappeared she had known that it was him – it always was him; and no amount of come along Pond or Amy please from the Doctor was going to change that. She didn't care if she was sent to the wrong place, wrong time. If she didn't try, then what was she good for? He was her Rory Williams and she was his Amelia Pond, and if all else came to it, they would've chased each other across the void.