There are times that Rory Williams lays awake at night.
He lies in the bed he shares with her, and he thinks. He thinks about his wife, Amy Pond. She is a long, slender form next to him, draped in shadows and dreams. Even with the lights out, he knows her every plane and curve.
Rory has loved Amy as long as he has known her. When you love someone more than yourself, you know them, in many ways, better than you know yourself. Rory loves Amy with all his being.
Which is why there are times he lays awake in bed, while she sleeps, and sobs to himself like his heart will break.
Rory Williams spent two thousand years watching over the woman who would be his wife. While the Pandorica came down through the ages, the Last Centurion came with it. It was his godhead, the focus of his faith and devotion. The coffin-ark of the woman he loves. Over the course of twenty centuries, Rory's love for Amy only grew stronger.
Then, he was not the Last Centurion, any longer; then he was Rory; then he was both Rory and the Last Centurion, and…
Time travel is complex. At best.
Amy Pond waited thirty-six years for Rory and the Doctor on Apalapucia. In thirty-six years, she went from loving Rory Williams to hating him, hating the Doctor for making her wait. Thirty-six years. Once, it would seem a lifetime to Rory, but he knows, now, that it is no time at all.
Well, some time. Enough time to go mad, to hate, to despise.
When the alternate Amy gave her life, so her younger self and Rory could grow old together—when, let's face it, the Doctor lied to and betrayed her—she ceased to exist. Rory has tentatively brought the planet up from time to time, that hospice where people spend the last of their days in peace. Except Amy, of course. There was no peace for her, there.
She does not remember. She does not remember. She does not remember.
So Rory Williams lays in bed at night, his wife asleep beside him. Her body, mind, and soul, altars of devotion for him. In those times, all he can think about is this: that she hated him.
That and how he can never talk about it with her.
Because it never happened.