"Raggedy Man, goodbye" I turn to see his pleading face, begging me not to go...and then darkness.

I sat up on the cold pavement, there was no one around. I stood up and ran quickly to the nearest bin. A newspaper. Good. Right. Date date date. Ah hah. April 23rd, 1936. Hmm. Now to find my husband.

Rory's P.O.V

I turn around to look at Amy, still grinning from the shock of the grave with the same name as me. And see the sun setting on a street in Manhattan or what I guess is Manhattan. It looks odd, as if from a different time. I struggle to a bench, swallowing down the rising hysteria and sit down.

I turn and realise there's a man there.
"Arnold Geoffries" he puts out his hand to shake mine and I vomit ferociously into a bin. He looks at the vomit as if its a very very rude young man and says
"I suggest you come with me, that is, unless you wish to sit here in your own sick"

As I weigh up the odds of the better choice he stands up and starts walking away urgently. I make a decision to follow him and trust yet another stranger.

"Excuse me!" I shout. He gestures for me to come over there. I quickly run to where he's standing.
"What is it, sir?" He whispers anxiously.
"This is going to sound strange, but where am I?"
"Manhattan, sir"
"Which year"
"1935"

*Amys P.O.V*

I woke up suddenly, the last image of the Doctor's pleading eyes fresh in my mind.

I had looked for Rory, called for him, searched for clues. But I had nothing. In the end I had to sleep. Maybe he'd gone too far into the past for me to ever see him. Maybe it was only a few years. Or, maybe I had got sent earlier than him.

I watch Manhattan fill with people whilst sitting on my bench. That's a point, what about money? And somewhere to live?

As Manhattan gets busier and busier I decide to ask someone about where I am...and Rory.

I see a small man wearing a long coat and hat scurrying in the shadows. He looked helpful. I walked up to him and said

"Excuse me, Sir, but I have awoke dazed and a little confused, would you by any chance know where I am?" I smile my sweetest smile.

"Another one? A foreigner as well! The year is 1936." He said in his thick New York accent.

"I knew that! I want my location, please!" I said, probably a bit too snappy.

"Alright, alright! You're in Manhattan! May I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course!"

"What do you know of the weeping Angels?"

"They're the reason I'm here. And the reason I have been separated from my husband!" I said trying to stop my voice from breaking, stop myself from crying.

"Would your husband be a Rory, English, tall, big nose.."

"Yes, Yes!" I grin at him and then apologise for interrupting.

"Where is my husband?" I say trying to sound stern but instead sounding like a excited child.

"Follow me, Mrs Pond"

After walking numerous streets and back alleys we finally came to a large abandoned hotel. I shuddered thinking of the angels hotel. Realising it wasn't, I shrugged my shoulders and walked in.