An ancient feeling was aroused in Amy as she awoke that morning. The dull sunlight filtered through the blinds of the light blue bedroom, stirring her from slumber. A creak shuddered through the wrought iron bed frame as she shifted on the lumpy mattress. Rory laid next to her, his arms curled around his pillow, snoring slightly. Eyes bleary, Amy felt anxiety creep up on her, infiltrating her abdomen and chest. Her curvy ivory body rolled over and snatched the desktop calendar off of her night table. She fumbled with the pages, she could never be arsed to keep up with the thing. Finally, she tore off the pages from three days prior, and focused her pupils on the date. Her peat-bog coloured eyes widened as the orchestra of nerves continued to conduct a symphony within her. Like a frantic feline, Amy flipped over onto all fours and shook Rory with one arm.
"Rory!" She hissed, bringing her face close to his. "Wake up! It's today!" Urgency grew in her voice. Rory groaned and blinked his eyes open, shaking his head with disbelief.
"Amy," He rubbed one long-fingered hand over his slackened face. "What time is it?"
"Ohoho, too late, that's what time it is!" She crowed, leaping off the bed and tearing around the room in search of clothes. "We've slept too late!" Rory clumsily groped around for the clock on the table next to him and grasped it, staring. One second, two, three, then a moment of realization-
"Good god, is that what time it is really?" Rory exclaimed, nearly falling off the bed as he scrambled to get up.
"Yes!" Amy shouted from the adjacent bathroom.
"And you're sure it's today?" He asked while pulling his trousers on.
"Yes!" There was a clatter from the bathroom as Amy stumbled out, brushing her hair vigorously. "We're going to miss it!"
"Well, we've got an hour." Rory said, squeezing into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
"Only an hour!" She shrieked, wrapping a scarf around her neck and darting out to the kitchen. After a few minutes, Rory heard the tea kettle whistling and the clamor of porcelain on counter tops. Within moments, Amy had shoved a steaming cup into his hands as he stepped out of the bedroom. "Here you are!" Amy chirped. "Drink quickly, we haven't got much time! And, I know you hate it, but I put a bit of milk in your tea to make it cool down faster. Drink up, c'mon! And," She poked her head back into the room with a slight scowl, "For the love of all that is good and holy, put a shirt on!"
Rory glanced down at his bare chest and khaki pants. Sighing, he took a sip of his unusually milky tea, grimaced, and trotted dutifully back into the bedroom to throw on a flannel. Minutes later, Amy was propelling him out the door, coats in hand.
The air was brisk as they made their way through the countryside. Amy skipped and hopped, pulling Rory along like an eager puppy. Rory simply laughed, a smooth boisterous sound, when she tripped over a stone. Their hands were intertwined as they walked, interrupted only by the silver wedding band on Amy's finger. She watched a blue bird fly against the white-grey sky, then turned to Rory.
"D'you think we'll recognize us?" She asked, glancing up at her husband.
"How could we not?" Rory stared straight ahead. Amy considered this and pushed a lock of ginger hair back to its rightful place behind her ear. They walked, and listened only to the sound of the wind shifting the branches of trees. Amy shivered, Rory placed an arm around her.
"I'm afraid to see him again." Amy announced, her voice slicing through the air. Rory glanced at her, then furrowed his brow.
"Why?" Amy pursed her lips and looked away. She could see the hill, looming in the distance. Suddenly she was not so anxious to get there.
"If we see him, while we're up there-"
"Which we will." Rory interjected.
"Which we will, it means it's all over. It means it's all really, truly over." She blinked, realizing the weight of her words. Rory saw that this was a delicate subject, and thought for a moment as they walked.
"How long as it been, Amy?" He said finally. "What, years?"
"Years. A few." She nodded in agreement. Rory cast her a gentle but awkward look, worried he might upset her.
"So, really…it's been over for a while." His words hung in the air. Amy sucked in a frustrated gust of air through her lips.
"He hasn't visited. He said he would visit." She said coldly, kicking a pebble with the toe of her shoe.
"He hasn't visited yet-"
"He promised!" She cried, throwing her hands in the air.
"He wanted to give us time." Rory coaxed, stepping off the path and onto the limp yellow grass. "To sink back into a normal life! Ames, we spent the entire honeymoon period of our married lives traversing around with him. He's doing us a favor, letting us get back to normal." Amy skipped over a dead tree trunk and onto the grass, grasping Rory's hand. Her mind whirred. How had they done it? How did they – how could they – go on living a normal life in Leadworth, after all that? After all the things she had seen, a different adventure every day. She closed her eyes as she thought about him, her constant friend before Rory came aboard. Before Rory joined them, she felt so safe with her raggedy man. She dearly missed his presence, his cockamamie ideas and mad cap schemes. The way he always made her feel as if she were the most vital thing in the universe. Rory made her feel that way, sure. But when she was with him, there was a sense of infectious urgency. She missed her friend, who hadn't visited in years. And she was afraid that the moment she saw him again, she'd want to abandon her stable life to run back into his wondrous machine. She squeezed Rory's hand again and smiled up at him. He'd keep her steady. He always had.
"It just feels like we were with him for such a short time." Amy said, her voice lighter now.
"Wasn't so short for me…" Rory grumbled. Amy laughed, and broke his stoic face into a smile.
"Now, now, my patient Centurian." She leaned up to kiss him, giggling. They were almost at the top of the hill now, the sky opening up before them.
For Rory, things were fairly calm. He wanted to see his old friend as much as Amy did. As he felt his wife's palm against his own, he smiled ever so slightly. Sure, he missed his adventuring days. It's not as though he'd been much help, anyway, but it was fun. The experience of a lifetime, of ten lifetimes, of one hundred life times. But Rory was glad to be where he was. They couldn't keep traveling forever. They couldn't keep running from normalcy forever. And, in the end, he had come away with the most valuable gift of all. Amy, his Amy. Rory's, forever.
The sky was grey and overcast as they stood at the top of the hill. The sun was desperately trying to peek through, but to no avail. Bluebells were clinging to their last days of life, frosted over in the grass. Amy's eyes scanned the horizon. In the distance, she saw the construction site that encased the drill. She closed her eyes and sighed. If she listened hard enough, she felt she could hear the voices, drifting up from the chasms of the earth, crying out to be saved. She shuddered, and wished she could dull some of the horrors she had seen below the ground, just a few years ago. Amy opened her eyes. Rory stared at the spot where he knew he'd see the three of them. It seemed bizarre to him, to be waiting so calmly. How many people had the chance they were being given at this moment? So few. In fact, probably no one. And yet, here they stood. Two figures on a hill, waiting in the chilly wind.
Amy rubbed her shoulders and jumped around in place, shaking her head as if to deny the cold from seeping into her bones.
"I wish we would hurry up already." She grumbled. Rory snorted, and she laughed.
"We'll be here." He said, grinning at the oddity that had just escaped his lips.
There was a stillness in the air, as though nature itself was holding its breath. Amy parted her flushed lips slightly and tilted her head towards the sky, watching as the wind suddenly picked up. The remaining leaves blew off trees, the grass rippled. Amy bit her lip and squealed, clutching her hands into fists and turning to Rory in gleeful anticipation. Then, as clear and as welcome as the night she first heard it, a familiar sound echoed through the fields. Off in the distance, she heard it. That known grinding and whooshing sound that she loved so deeply. It sent a ripple of shock and excitement through her. The moment was upon them.
"He's here." She murmured, clutching Rory's hand.
"We're here." He said, as though he couldn't believe it himself. And then came the silence. A terrible, silent waiting period fell upon them unceremoniously, and the pair on the hill stared at the distance until their sight went blurry.
"Any second now. We'll be here any second now." She was counting the minutes in her head, trying to replay that day as clearly as possible. Rory just stood, eyes widened, tapping his foot.
It seemed like forever had passed before Amy spotted them, and in many ways, forever had passed for them. But sure enough, three figures appeared in the distance, fazing at the hill. Amy saw the red headed girl point.
"That's us!" Amy whispered. "That's us!" She shrieked and jumped up and down. "That's us, wave! Wave, Rory!" She laughed, bubbling over with joy. Rory waved his lanky arm as hard as he could, and Amy followed suit, giggling and grinning. She looked at herself and at Rory, from so many years ago. They seemed to much younger to her now, and she looked upon her younger self as one might look at their high school diary. There were so many things left to come for that Amy, standing in the distance. She hadn't even gotten married yet. Amy smiled and kept right on waving. If she could only tell her… but she wouldn't change her days with her raggedy man for anything. Her eyes drifted to the third figure, standing beside her past self and past Rory in the distance. There he was. The Doctor. Her Doctor. Amy's eyes filled with sudden tears as she gazed at him, pressing one hand to her mouth in a mixture of overwhelming memory and happiness. He was always the same. Floppity hair, brooding eyes, crooked wide smile. That tweed jacket and silly bow tie with braces. Always the same, her Doctor. In that moment, grinning fiercely through her tears, Amy felt a pang in her stomach. It was not a feeling of regret or longing, but rather a feeling of intense, crippling elation. It was as though she was given a chance to step back into a favourite memory, if only for a moment. How lucky she was to be here. For a moment, she felt rightly displaced in time, out of step but perfectly content. Amy looked over at Rory, and watched as a single tear dripped down the side of his nose and onto his cheek, his chin quivering slightly. But he laughed, and so did she. How wonderful, how beautiful, to be here. They stood, waving and smiling, watching as the figures in the distance lingered momentarily, then ran off. The Doctor stoof by himself in the clearing, as though he was sharing a private moment with the Amy and Rory he knew were to come. Then, like a whippet, he was gone.
Amy watched him leave until she couldn't see him anymore. She took inventory of her emotions as she stared blankly at the empty space where the Doctor had once stood. She wasn't upset, just overcome with memories. Good memories, fantastic memories. Her dearest memories. She had the strangest feeling, as though she had felt that chapter of her life close. Amy couldn't fly off with the Doctor anymore. But she could keep him in her heart and in her mind, and hope that he would take a break from saving the world for just an hour long enough to see her one day. Amy felt the wind on her face and exhaled deeply. There was something ethereal about this moment, and she just wanted the world to stop turning so she could take it in.
"He's gone." She said, leaning against her husband.
"Not to them." Rory responded, pointing towards the clearing and the drill in the distance. "You and I, from those days, we still get to be with him. For so much more."
Amy smiled, comforted, and shut her eyes. She pretended that the Doctor, her raggedy man, could hear her. Thank you, she thought, I miss you. Her closure with her best friend, her hero, her Doctor. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at Rory.
"You know, not much has really changed in these past few years." She chuckled, still sniffling slightly. Rory laughed too.
"You're still mad, impossible Amy Pond." He kissed her forehead. "As beautiful and as wonderful as ever."
"And you're still," She gestured towards her nose, the Doctor's signature movement when talking about Rory. "Rory Williams. So human Rory Williams." Amy sighed as Rory wrapped one arm over her shoulders. "I miss us." She said. The wind shifted, and another blue bird flew past them on the hill.
"We're right here." He said, and smiled. "We'll always be right here."