A distinct layer of gloom had seemed to engulf the TARDIS ever since the Ponds had, well, left. The Doctor now sat in his newly-remodeled console room, reading The Notebook. Blue light gleamed across the pages as he sat, intrigued, flipping page after page. But eventually he got to a point where he just stopped. He doesn't even know why he picked the book up in the first place; he had never been interested in those types of books before. Books he knows will just end up hurting him in the end. Because what he said to Amy long, long ago, was true. He hates endings.

The Doctor closed the book and walked over to the console and flipped a switch. Three lights turned off on the far side of the room. He laid his hands on the console and his head drooped low. How is it possible for one to lose so much, yet still go about living life like always? He knew he had to move on, he just didn't know how. Finding a purpose each day was becoming increasingly difficult, and any motivation he once had to help anyone in any way was now completely gone. All that he wanted was quite simple. But not simple enough, apparently.

He sat back down and picked up the book again. He was four pages from the end. He knew how it ended. He didn't want it to end. Suddenly a lighter thought occurred to him, do things really have to end? Are all endings terrible? Well, for him, most are. But what if the ending could be changed? He knew that history could not be changed, what happened was always going to happen. But what if things don't have to end the way they seem to end?

He decided quickly, without too much thought. He was going to visit the Ponds. Nothing really seemed to be stopping him, so why not? He flipped a switch, pressed some buttons and pulled a lever, and the TARDIS roared to life. He was off to see his Ponds. Off to an official, more positive ending. Altogether, he was off to 1997.

First, he realized, he had to find them. He didn't think it would be that hard, just do a search with the TARDIS, he was bound to find them, easily. Instead of searching for both of them, he just searched for Amy. Wherever she was, Rory was bound to be there.

He found Amy quicker than the time it took for the TARDIS to land. She was currently living in the Hamilton Assisted Living Home just outside of New York City. He stared at the screen.

"Hmm, couldn't have told me that before we landed, could you?" With a few more presses of buttons and flipping of switches, he was off again, this time landing right outside of the Pond's current residence.

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS to a quite large, modern Victorian building. It was three stories high with steep rooftops and intricate crown molding, the entire place painted a light shade of pink. It was a lovely place for an assisted living home. Flower beds bordered the house, green grasses stretched across the property. It appeared to be located on a large plot of land, with a lake off a ways. A few Canadian geese swam their way to the other side of the small lake, which was surrounded by trees tinted auburn through the effects of autumn.

It wasn't that long of a walk from where he landed to the front door. He walked right through the large, red doors, and straight up to the receptionist.

"Hello, I'm looking for an Amy and Rory Williams." He smiled a flattering smile down at the woman at the desk. She appeared to be in her late forties, light brown hair starting to grey at the top. The dark circles under her eyes were obviously an effect of working long hours. Glasses were set at the end of her nose as she typed away at her computer. She looked up at him when he spoke.

"Rory Williams is no longer a resident of our facility." She looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

"Why, what happened?" He was frightened by what she said, fearing the worst.

"He died. Five years ago. Heart attack. Are you family?" She asked.

"Son in law…" He gently fell back against the wall behind him, absorbing what he just heard. His head lowered and a sigh left him. "Rory the roman… protecting her until the end. How's Amy doing?"

"Fine, nowadays. She really needed Rory, though. He was such a good husband, especially when it came to her Alzheimer's."

"Alzheimer's?" He asked. Losing Rory and Alzheimer's too?

"Yes, it started in 1991, it's been getting worse ever since. The poor darling, she's forgotten almost everyone she's ever met, except her nurses. You don't seem like a very well-informed relative."

"Well, I've been… out." He said, distantly. He wondered if poor Amelia Pond would even remember her Doctor. "Have there been any other visiting family members?

"Her daughter, River, comes occasionally. She's ever so nice. She helps out in any way she can. It's funny; she's been coming ever since the Williams checked in here, about twenty years ago. Every time I see her it's like she hasn't aged a day!"

He smiled. "Well, that's River. Ageless being. Could I see Amy?"

"Of course you can! What's your name again?"

"The Doctor." He said as he followed her up a hallway.

She stopped in her tracks. "You're the Doctor? The Doctor?"

He gave a flattered chuckle."I am."

"She used to tell us stories about her Doctor. We all thought she was crazy. She was good at stories. We all thought that it was just some unfinished plotline for a book she never wrote. She would tell us about aliens and space, all the adventures of the Ponds and their Doctor. The mad man with a box. But not anymore, though. Those stories seemed to have left her, she doesn't tell them anymore. She's forgotten her precious Doctor."

"Forgotten me? But… but how? Everything we've done, all that we've seen. She can't just forget!" He looked on the verge of tears.

"She can. And she has, I'm sorry." She looked up at him, her big brown eyes showing her condolences. They had stopped outside of room eleven. "She's in here."

"Do you think she'll remember me when she sees me?" He asked.

"I honestly don't know." She knocked twice before opening the door a crack and peeking in. "Amy, you have a visitor."

He heard a voice from within, and it shocked him how much the tone in her voice was the exact same. The Scottish drawl still utterly present and as strong as ever. "If they want a book signed tell them to go away and get someone else to sign it!"

The Doctor smiled to himself as he remembered just how much he'd missed his mad, impossible Amelia Pond. Even though she's not quite what she used to be, just the sound of her voice, though aged, sends him soaring back through memories good and bad.

"He came to visit you." The receptionist reassured her.

"Oh lovely, let him in."

The receptionist moved through the door and let the Doctor in after her. He beheld the sight of the aged Amy Williams. She had lost a few inches in height, still thin, with shoulder-length grey hair. He looked into her eyes. Those green eyes were the same ones as the Amelia Pond that left him long ago. This was his Amelia. A bit older, but still the same.

He spoke up, hoping she would remember him. "Hello. It's me, the Doctor."

She looked at him, puzzled. "The Doctor? Doctor who?" As much as he used to love hearing that, these words gave him no comfort. "I've already got several doctors, Jessica, why did you bring me another one?"

His head dropped. This couldn't be happening. How could she let herself forget him? She was supposed to hold on to his memory with every fiber of her being. He was going to come back for her. He always was. He just came too late.

"It's me. It's the Doctor. Your raggedy Doctor. Please Amy. Tell me you remember me." Tears began to well up in his eyes. He didn't know how long he could keep himself together.

"Who are you? And how do you know me?" She demanded lightly.

"Oh Amelia Pond." A tear fell from his eyes. "I can't lose you."

She looked him, and her motherly instincts seemed to kick in. "Oh, come now, don't cry. My goodness. Here," She motioned to a chair near hers, "Take a seat."

He gathered himself together in the time it took him to move to the chair next to hers.

"Now, what seems to be the matter?"

"Well," He thought for a moment about what to tell her. Maybe he could just ask her how her life's been. Start conversation, just to be with her. But in the end, he thought, what will that achieve? So he came up with a rather inspired idea. "Actually, I came here to tell you a story. Someone told me you like stories."

She looked happy, excited, like no one had wanted to tell her a story before. "Yes, I do like stories. What's this one about?"

"Well, this is about a girl whose life didn't make any sense. It's a story about a man who steals her away, and about a Roman who spends two thousand years waiting for her. It's a story about love and friendship, adventure and sorrow. And it's a story that's true."He smiled at her.

The Doctor told of their adventures together, from beginning to end, from the Byzantium to the Wild West to whales from outer space. He told it all. He told of Rory and River. He told of Vastra and Jenny. Not a single detail of their journey had been left out. The entire time she sat, utterly intrigued by this stranger's story. She didn't even know why she liked it so much. It was a long story, but quite worth the length. He was nearing the end of their story, and he had been there for hours, telling adventure after adventure.

"They had made it back to the TARDIS safely. They were back exactly where they were before." It pained him especially to tell this part of the story.

"The angels didn't catch him?" She asked, intrigued by the seemingly happy end to the story.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked, testing her, seeing if by some miracle this method would work.

"I think…" She thought for a moment, and her face fell, "I think that the angels do catch him. But then Amy can't stand the thought of living without her centurion, so she sends herself back also."

The Doctor smiled. "You know what I think? I think you've heard this story before."

"No! Was I right?" She asked.

"I think you already know the answer to that question."

She sat, staring for a moment. She stared deep into his eyes, like she was trying to find a secret hidden within them. Suddenly, her face changed. "Oh my god. It's me. That's my story! Doctor! Doctor, you came back!" Tears filled her eyes. But suddenly, Amy cried out in pain. "Doctor!" She fell out of her chair and onto the floor, clutching the left side of her chest.

"Oh no, no Amy!" The Doctor fell to the floor after her. "AMY!" He frantically looked up, and Jessica was already dialing 911. He just had his Amelia return to him, he wasn't about to lose her again.

Another cry of pain had escaped her lips. The Doctor grabbed her hand and held it. "Amy, I came back for you. I always come back. Now Amy, stay with me."

"Only if you stay with me." She said.

He looked down at her, tears welling up again. "I will always stay with you."

Within minutes the ambulance had arrived, they carried her on to a stretcher and in to the ambulance, the Doctor holding her hand the entire way. In the ambulance, the Doctor stood by her side, forever with her. He couldn't lose her again, not after he's lost her so many times and after she just returned to him.

She looked up to him and spoke his name. "Doctor…"

"You're going to make it through this, I promise you." He took her hand and kissed it.

"It's so like you to say that. But, rule number one. The Doctor lies." She smiled weakly up at him.

"No, no. I promise you. You will make it. I have so much faith in you, Amelia Pond." He couldn't let himself lose control, not yet.

"I'm sorry. I'm not going to make it. I love you, Doctor. Remember that. My raggedy man…" She smiled and her eyes slowly closed forever.

"No, Amy no! No, no! Amy, don't do this! AMY!" The Doctor fell to her chest, searching frantically for a heart beat that wasn't there. Tears fell fast from his eyes. "Amy. Come along, Pond, wake up. Please! Amy!"

It was no use, she was already long gone. And he knew that, deep down. He collapsed on her chest, tears falling from his eyes. He looked up at her. So old, yet so much life still left in her. He laid there awhile, thinking of all the times they had together. All just gone now. He sniffed, and took one of her dead hands in his, delicately stroking her fingers. That same hand that he had taken so many times, running from imminent death. This would be the last time he held that hand.

He stood up, still holding her hand. He leaned down and delicately kissed her forehead. "My mad, impossible Amy Pond. I was always going to come back."