I do not own Doctor Who!
This is sort of my... tribute to the wonderful Rory Williams. It's set in... well, you'll figure it out.
Rory remembered when he first met Amelia Pond, when she moved to Leadworth, when they were five. He saw how bored and unhappy she looked those first few days of school.
So one day, on the playground, Rory came up to her and asked if she'd like to play with him. She put her hands on her hips and studied him. Then she chirped, "Okay!"
She made him play in the mud, which Rory had never liked doing, but he didn't mind because he saw that bored look vanish off his new friend's face. And that look was worth getting muddy (worth anything), even if they got yelled at by the teacher.
Amelia held his hand through the whole telling off. And the only thing he can't remember about that day was what the teacher told them. He was too focused on Amelia's grubby hand in his.
Rory remembered a week after that, when Amelia slung an arm around his shoulders and declared that they were going to be best friends.
"Except for Mels," she amended, glancing admiringly at the girl beside her. "Mels is my first best friend. You can be my other best friend."
She looked at Rory, her messy red hair falling into her face, freckles everywhere, front tooth missing, and grinned. "You don't mind, do you, Rory?"
To this day, Rory cannot recall what he said back. He was too busy being suddenly struck by the fact that toothless as Amelia's smile was, it was really quite pretty.
Rory remembered when they were six, when suddenly (according to the other boys in his class) girls became foreign, mysterious creatures that must not be touched under any circumstances, on account of the cooties.
Rory didn't care. He played with Amelia, same as always.
Amelia and the other girls had grown quite used to being able to scare boys away simply by breathing in their direction, and were rather disappointed when the cooties didn't affect Rory at all.
Everyone else in the class teased them endlessly. Amelia and Rory, sitting in a tree. . . Rory blushed fiercely whenever he heard that. Amelia stuck her little chin in the air and marched past their classmates, dragging Rory behind her.
"Don't listen to them," Amelia told him later. "You're special. That's why you can play with me."
In his life, Rory had not heard that he was special many times. All the times he did hear that stayed with him.
Rory remembered when they were seven and Amelia started talking about the Doctor. It was all of a sudden, one day she was the same as ever, and the next, she was was doodling police telephone boxes in her notebook and talking about the Raggedy Doctor.
She told him everything, yawning the whole time from staying up nearly all night.
"He'll come back for me, Rory, I know he will." she told him happily. Then her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her shoes. "But nobody believes me. Not even Aunt Sharon. Everyone thinks I'm crazy."
Rory was silent. He didn't know what to say.
Amy turned her wide hazel eyes on him. "But you believe me, don't you, Rory Williams."
Rory knew that she only used his last name when she was really serious. So he cleared his throat and said, "Yeah, Amelia, of course I do."
Some of the unhappiness in Amelia's eyes lifted, and Rory got that feeling again, that making Amelia happy was worth anything- even listening to stories about aliens.
"Will you play with me?" asked Amy. "You can be the Raggedy Doctor."
Rory didn't particularly want to, but he simply couldn't say no to Amelia. "Okay."
Amelia threw her arms around him. "You're the best, Rory!" She grabbed his hand and started to pull him up to her bedroom. "C'mon, I have scissors, we can cut up your clothes. . ."
And even though they got in trouble for ruining Rory's clothing, it was still worth it, because Amelia Pond had called him the best.
Rory remembered when they were eight and he fell out of the tree they were climbing. He hadn't wanted to climb it, but Amelia had insisted. She liked to be as high as possible. "It'll be like flying in the stars," she told him excitedly.
Rory had never liked heights, but he wasn't going to let Amelia go up there on her own. So he followed her up into the branches.
He was about three quarters of the way up when he felt himself start to slip. "Amelia!" he said, panicking.
"What is it, Rory?" she said impatiently. Then she looked down just in time to see Rory's eyes widen and his grip fail. "Rory!" she shrieked, but he was already falling.
That shriek was the last thing he heard before everything went black.
When Rory woke up in the hospital with a broken leg three hours later, the first thing he said was, "Is Amelia okay?!"
Rory remembered when they were nine and he hid in the cupboard for two and a half hours before getting fed up and bursting into Amelia's room to find that Mels was there.
"I thought we were playing hide and seek," he said, hurt. "I've been hiding for hours."
Amelia heaved a gigantic sigh. "Well," she said, "We just haven't found you yet."
Rory, despite popular belief, was not an idiot. He knew that Amelia didn't want him around. She wanted to play with Mels, not him. So Rory said, "Okay." and walked out, with a rather sulky "Bye, Mels,"
"Bye, Rory," Mels rolled her eyes when she thought Rory wasn't looking. He was. And he remembered.
Rory remembered when they were twelve and the school was doing a Harry Potter skit. Amelia got the part of Lavender and was sulking.
Rory tried to cheer her up by telling her that he was playing a character so minor that he didn't have a name. When that didn't work, he told her shyly that he thought she was like Ginny.
"You're funny, and brave, and ginger, and. . ." He stopped, because he'd been about to say that she was pretty. And no matter how true that was, that was not something you told your friend.
"Do you really think so?" she said hopefully, breaking Rory's awkward silence.
"Really," said Rory, nodding.
Amelia smiled, and Rory got that tingly pleased feeling again. Then Amelia said cheerfully, "And you know you always reminded me of Ron? You don't look alike, but. . . anyway." Her smile split into a grin, and she added, "I guess that makes us brother and sister!" She laughed. "You'd make a good brother, Rory."
And as lovely as the sound of Amelia's laugh was, somehow the idea of being her brother didn't much appeal to Rory.
Rory remembered when they were fourteen and Amelia decided that being called 'Amelia' was childish, and from that moment on, she was going to be 'Amy'.
Rory had wanted to talk her out of it, but he didn't quite dare.
The month that followed was full of Amelia- Amy- correcting him every time he called her her 'childish' full name.
Eventually, Rory got used to calling her Amy, but secretly he always thought that Amelia was a beautiful name- in a flowy, fairytale way.
Rory remembered when they were fifteen and Amy had her first boyfriend. Rory pushed down his jealousy and hurt and did his best to be happy. For her.
And two weeks later, when they broke up, and Amy cried on his shoulder for a rather long time, he really tried not to feel happy. Because Amy was sad, and so he shouldn't be happy.
But still, there was that little flicker of pleasure in his stomach when, after hours of trying to cheer Amy up, she wiped away her tears, hugged him, and said, "Thanks, Rory. I know you'll always be there for me."
She gave him a watery smile and left. But that little happy feeling that came from making Amy happy stayed.
Rory remembered when they were eighteen and Amy finally realized that he'd been in love with her pretty much since the day they met.
He'd streaked down the stairs, determined not to cry. He wasn't able to run very far, though, since he only lived a couple houses down.
He collapsed under the tree he'd fallen out of nearly ten years ago. He felt like he was falling all over again. Rory didn't cry, but he wrapped his arms around his legs, shivering in the chilly autumn air. Amy's words echoed in his ears. "I mean, I've known you for, what? Ten years? I've seen you practically every day. Name one girl you've paid the slightest bit of attention to."
Maybe it was because there was only one girl Rory ever paid attention to. The one he was completely invisible to. And he hadn't known her for ten years, he'd known her for twelve.
The sound of footsteps brought Rory back to reality. Amy came up beside him. "Can I. . .?" Her voice was as quiet as he had ever heard it.
Rory made a "Mmm." sort of sound, which Amy took as a "Yes." because she sat down.
They were silent for a minute. Then Amy asked, "How long?"
Rory chuckled humorlessly. "Forever. Since I met you." He didn't look at her. He didn't want to see her expression. He didn't want pity, or apology, or distrust.
Amy groaned. "How did I not notice?"
"I don't think you wanted to notice." said Rory, honestly.
Another silence, this one slightly more tense. But Rory still didn't look at Amy.
"Listen," said Amy, "I'm sorry."
Rory closed his eyes. This was what he'd been dreading. "I know, I know." he said, staring fixedly at a leaf and ordering himself not to show emotion. "Our friendship can never be the same, and I'll never hear the end of this from Mels, and nothing can ever be the same between us-" He stopped, because Amy had scooted a bit closer and put a hand on his shoulder.
"No," she said softly. Rory's eyes met hers. "I meant, sorry for not doing this sooner."
And to Rory's complete and utter astonishment, Amy Pond leaned forward and kissed him square on the lips.
He never, ever forgot that kiss.
There were many things Rory remembered. There were many more things he didn't.
He didn't remember the day the Doctor came back.
He didn't remember how it felt when he was informed rather casually that Amy had kissed the Doctor.
He didn't remember when Amy chose him in the dream.
He didn't remember dying.
He didn't remember being Roman.
He didn't remember two thousand long years spent waiting for Amy.
But none of that mattered now.
All that mattered now was two words.
"I do."
Rory Williams- or Rory Pond, now, if you prefer- leaned forward and kissed the bride.
And now I will go cry in a corner because Rory is gone, gone forever...
But, anyway, review!