As the Doctor ran, he passed Amy, who seemed to be frozen in place.

"You shouldn't have waited for me – run!" he ordered frantically.

"Doctor, I can't. My . . . my hand – it's stone."

Sparing her hand a fleeting glance that confirmed it was very much made of flesh and blood, the Doctor looked back up at Amy.

"You looked into the angel's eyes, didn't you?"

"I tried not to, but I couldn't help myself, Doctor," said Amy, clearly stressed.

"Amy, your hand is not stone. You can move it, I promise."

"Doctor, I tried, and I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't. Leave me."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not going to leave you."

"Doctor, you can't stay with me – you'll die. All those things with River Song – they have to happen. And all those people, they're relying on you. You have to go, you have to save them."

"I'm not leaving you – my mad, impossible Amy Pond."

Oh, Amy, thought the Doctor. How can River Song be my future, when all I see is you?

With that, he bit her. Once she was free, he grabbed her hand and pulled away from where the angels had been slowly creeping up on her. Shining his torch on them, he thrust her behind him, shielding her with his body.

"Amy," he said cautiously, "Run!"

And they did, arriving in the cavern where the others were gathered not long after.

Amy listened as the Doctor conversed with Bob the angel – she was enraptured by him. When he asked if she trusted him, there was no doubt in her mind.

"Yeah," she said, though there was much more she could have said. How she trusted him with more than her life, with her very soul. How there was no one she could ever trust more than him . . . she loved him and didn't want to see him end up with River Song.

Torn from her thoughts revolving, as always, around the Doctor, she heard him say into the communicator, "There's one thing you never ever want to put in a trap if you're smart, if you're clever – me!"

The Doctor had to leave and it was killing him, so he did the only thing he could think of to do:

"Gentlemen, look after Amy. If anything happens to her, I will hold each of you responsible – twice!"

The Doctor lowered himself on to the rock next to Amy, shoulders brushing, always some part of himself in contact with her.

"I'll come back for you, Amy, I promise," he said as sincerely as he could, before rising, fully prepared to go.

"Yeah, you always say that." Amy's voice floated after him, calling him back.

And then, he was there again, pressing his forehead to hers. The pain in her voice spoke of years of neglect, of feeling out of place, and it was his fault. He thought back to his and Amy's first adventure, and how she'd confronted him about never interfering unless there were children crying. That was never truer than with her. Her tears were his downfall.

"Amy, remember what I said to you when you were seven?" he asked.

"What did you tell me?"

"See, that's the thing – I need you to remember," the Doctor pleaded with her, never more serious in his life. Hear what I'm trying to say, Amy – I can't lose you, I just can't!

"Trust me, Amy, please."

"But you don't always tell me the truth," she countered.

"If I always told you the truth, I wouldn't need you to trust me," he said with a smile. "I'll be back." And he planted a firm kiss to her forehead in confirmation, though inside, he was dying to kiss her properly – on the lips.

As the tree-lights started going out, Amy had never wished more fervently for the Doctor's presence.

Doctor, I need you. Where are you?

Then, like a miracle, the Doctor's voice came over the communicator that the last cleric had left with her.

"I should never have left you," he said, and she could tell that he was referring to more than their current adventure. He was referring to fourteen years ago, back when he promised her five minutes.

As the Doctor revealed to her what would happen if the time energy caught up to her, all she could think was, I would never have met you!

"Keep moving, Amy," the Doctor pleaded with her. "Keep moving."

And for his sake – and his sake alone – she did.

The Doctor's patience was wearing thin. How could River Song be so pessimistic?

As she declared his plan a failure, he turned on her, "Do you have another suggestion, something better?"

Her silence answered for her.

"Ha, thought so," said the Doctor, allowing himself a moment to gloat. His mind immediately turned back to Amy, though.

"You're going to have to walk like you can see," he told her, shutting his eyes against the impossibility of what he was asking her to do. But trust had to be a two-way street. He would have to trust that she could follow his directions, just as he'd asked her to trust that he'd come back for her.

"What do you mean?" She sounded confused, and he couldn't blame her.

"Look, just keep moving."

The Doctor looked around desperately for something to do, something to stop the events taking place. He soon realized, though, that only he could stop the angels – only he could stop time.

A beeping sound interrupted his thoughts.

"What's that?" asked Amy.

"It's a warning. There are angels 'round you now," he said slowly. "Amy, listen to me. This is going to be hard, but I know you can do it. All you have to do is walk like you can see. Just don't open your eyes."

The Doctor shut his own as he spoke – for what purpose, he'd never know.

"They're not moving, you have to do this – now," he urged her.

There was a tense silence as Amy walked, using her ears and sense of smell to guide her footsteps. Then – nothing.

Suddenly, Amy was there, on deck, and in River's arms. The Doctor gave a sigh of relief that River had managed to get the teleport working.

As the Doctor spoke to Angel Bob, all he could think was, Get Amy out! Make her safe!

Then, as he, River, and Amy were holding on for dear life, all he could think was, Hold on, Amy. I'll fix you!

There on the beach, it was all he could do to keep from beaming at everyone and everything. Amy was alive, she was alright.

But then she dropped a bombshell:

"I want to go home."

"Okay," he replied, even as his world came crashing down around him.

"No, Doctor, not like that," said Amy with a laugh. How well she could read him – and after such a short time too. "No, I just want to show you something. You're running from River, I'm running too."

What could Amy Pond possibly be running from?

And then she dropped another bombshell:

"I'm getting married in the morning."

He stared blankly ahead of him, uncomprehending.

"So, do you comfort a lot of people on the night before their wedding?"

"Why would you need comforting?" he asked. You're the strongest person I know.

"I nearly died – alone, in the dark. And it got me thinking . . . about what I want, about who I want. You know what I mean?"

I don't dare hope, he thought, right before Amy connected their lips.

"It's you . . . it's all about you," he exclaimed, gently disentangling them.

"Why, thank you, Doctor," said Amy, simpering.

"No . . . no, no, no, that's not what I mean. Well, it is . . . but I mean something else as well. Something I can't quite put my finger on. Let's go."

Grabbing her hand, he dragged her towards the TARIDS.

"Oh, and by the way, I feel the same," he said, quickly planting a light kiss on her slightly-parted lips. "Now get in," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," said Amy, giving him a mock salute before disappearing inside.

Time travel just got a whole lot more interesting, the Doctor thought with a wry grin, before following.