Amy's eyes fluttered open, and she felt Rory's arms circling her shoulders. He was warm and he spoke soft words of comfort.
"Shh, Amy, it's okay, we'll be okay, we're together," Rory spoke quietly as tears dripped down her face.
Amy looked around, trying to figure out where and when they were. It still looked like they were in New York City, but a separate part. Rory wondered over to a newspaper stand and bought the latest edition. The date read "April 23rd,1954"
"Rory! Your phone! You can call your dad, call the Doctor, call anybody!" Amy stage whispered.
Her tears had stopped, but her voice still shook. The former time travelers looked around to find some where nobody could see them using a mobile phone, which hadn't even been invented yet. They spotted an alleyway between a café and a little boutique.
"Amy, am I just supposed to ring my dad and say 'Hey, you know our friend, the Doctor, well we went to New York with him and our daughter, going on adventures and stuff! We had to jump off a building and now we're stuck in the fifties and can't go back! Alright, love you, probably never see you again!'?" Rory asked sarcastically.
Amy shook her head, laughing. As she did, Rory clicked his phone on to call his dad.
"Uh, hi, Dad," Rory began.
He tried his best to explain their situation to the best of his ability without putting blame on the doctor. Brian didn't blame the doctor, which was good, but Rory heard sniffles over the line. Rory handed the phone to Amy. She would either make the situation far worse or much better. He hoped for the latter.
"Brian, we'll be okay, but we can't contact you. We are both capable of living our own lives, but we need to avoid anything that could damage our timeline.
Brian didn't say anything, Amy imagined him silently nodding like usual.
"Are you alright, Brian?" Amy asked, breaking the loudest silence she'd ever heard.
"Yeah, Amy, yeah. Can I speak to Rory?"
Amy handed the phone to Rory. The father and son spoke briefly, saying goodbye. As soon as he hung up, Rory stared blankly at the screen. He finally turned the phone off, hoping maybe there would be somebody else to call someday. Amy pulled Rory into a hug, slouching to give Rory the satisfaction of being the taller one. After they let go, they peered out at the bustling street.
"We need a place to stay while we look for jobs," Rory mentioned.
"And clothes. Jeans in the fifties is probably bad. Poodle skirts?" Amy said while looking down at her own clothing.
They nodded to each other and they were on their way. Shopping was first on their to do list. Amy was quite excited about full skirts with poodles embroidered on them, but unfortunately, only the former was true. She desperately wanted to avoid heels so she wouldn't tower over her husband. Rory left wearing something that the doctor might wear. Not purposely, but that was nearly all of what was in the shop. Rory fastened a bowtie around his neck.
"Bowties are cool," the couple laughed in unison.
They left the shop with bags in hand, and headed for a hotel. Nothing too fancy, they didn't have much money. The first hotel they went to was the one they booked a room at. Their room was gorgeous. Beautiful linens, subtle blue wallpaper, and a soft bed all made for a room worth much more than what they paid for, even by fifties standards.
"I'm going to that café we passed earlier. Want anything?" Amy asked.
"Coffee, please," he replied.
The walk to the café was quick, but when the wind picked up and the temperature dropped it felt like she had been walking forever. The strong scent of coffee hit her as she walked in. A man of about sixty and a woman about Amy's age stood behind the counter.
"Hello!" the young lady piped.
"You're not American," Amy replied, confused. The girl sounded like she was from northern England.
"Neither are you, love," the elder of the two said as he picked up Amy's hand.
"She's married, John!" she said, hitting him with the back of her hand.
Noticing the bands on her finger, he retracted his hand.
"John Smith, and this is," he paused to cough. "My lovely niece, Clara."
Clara waved and stuck her hand out to shake.
"Amelia Williams, but I would prefer Amy."
Clara whispered something into John's ear that Amy couldn't make out, but their matters were none of her business. When Clara pulled away, John just looked at her and nodded slowly, As opposed to getting drinks and leaving she ended up staying and chatting for a bit.
Amy hadn't made up a story for herself yet, so she avoided the topic of herself. When the conversation turned to her she changed the conversation.
"I had a friend called John Smith, but who knows next time I'll see him."
"Must be a common name, then."
Looking at the time, she realized how long she'd been gone for.
"Shoot, I have to go. Can I get a black coffee to go?"
As soon as Clara finished pouring the cup, Amy was on her way. She walked quickly, careful not to spill the coffee. She came back to the room to find Rory asleep on the arm chair.
"Rory, I have your coffee!"
"God, Amy, what took you so long?
"I was chatting with the staff! They were lovely, you should meet them!"
"Maybe tomorrow. Let's just hang out in the room. Order takeout. I'm tired."
"I don't think takeout's an option. Room service?" Amy suggested.
And they did just that. They hung out in the room with room service and tried to push away the fact they would never see their closest friends ever again.