He slouched over the bar, head in his hands. Rory made his way across the room, laughing and hugging his friends, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the peculiarly still Time Lord across the room.

"You doing ok, Doctor?" He smiled a bit, pointing at his red and green sweater. "Cheer up! It's Christmas, we're in London, and there isn't any sign of danger. Looks like it'll be a quiet night after all."

The Doctor dropped one of his hands from his face. He turned his head towards Rory and gave him a small smile, but not of the sort that his companion had been hoping for. "Rory, I've been sitting here thinking far too long, and I haven't any more time to waste brooding. " He sat up, and looked Rory in the eye, and with his deep, honest stare, Rory found himself suddenly uncomfortable.

"Is something the matter, Doctor?"

"Yes, well, no. Well, everything. But nothing. Not really. Nothing I can't handle." He stumbled over a few more confused words, but Rory stopped him, placing a strong, comforting hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

"You know I'm always here for you – if there's anything I can do to help, just tell me."

The Doctor looked down, inspecting his bow tie. "There's a lot you could do, Rory, but nothing that you would do, and I'm afraid that's precisely the problem." He sighed, and again weighed his heavy head in his hands.

"That doesn't make any sense, Doctor! You know that I – hell, half the people here – would do anything for you." He spun his head around the room, casting panicked looks in the direction of his friends and family. "If you're in trouble, you know that we love you, and want to help you."

"Well that's just it, Rory. You don't love me." He spoke softly now, with a clear ache in his voice. "You don't – want me."

Rory's eyes widened. He searched the bar again, hoping both that someone would come to his aid, as well as that everyone would stay far out of earshot. With a deep breath, he sat down next to the Doctor. This wasn't the first time that the Doctor had hinted at his feelings for Rory. "You know that I love Amy, Doctor. And she loves me. I'm sorry – I really am." He frowned at the bartop, peeling pleading eyes away from the Doctor. "If I could make it all better, I would. But I've found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and she's wearing a cardigan that matches mine. I've known her since forever, and I loved her even before that."

The Doctor turned his face away from the room, and perched as far away from Rory as possible. Rory could see tears dropping from the Doctor's cheeks and onto the bar, but knew nothing else he could say. As he stood from his barstool, a choked "Happy Christmas" escaped the Doctor, and as he strode off to find Amy, Rory whispered a faint "to you too."