Chapter one: My Doctor

Time-travel was a horribly complicated thing, so when the stranger introduced himself as the Doctor, Rory said nothing. Spoilers, as River would say. For Rory was certain that if this was the Doctor, and the Doctor actually knew Rory at this point in time, then the Doctor would tell him.

For the Doctor could be senseless and disregard Rory, but he was never actually cruel, and it would defiantly be cruel of him to string Rory along like this.

But this man couldn't be the Doctor. Not because he didn't look like him, for in the end Rory wouldn't put it past the Timelord to change his appearance every once in a while, and the lanky man in front of his wasn't really that much of a far cry from Amy's Doctor, with the messy hair, seemingly awful taste in clothes and never-stopping string of blabbering.

No, more because this Doctor in front of him seemed so much graver than the Doctor Rory knew.

The Doctor Rory knew had some grave moment, of course he did, Rory imagined that being 900 years old one would pick up some self-loathing along the way. No, actually Rory didn't imagine, Rory knew. But the graveness in Rory's Doctor was fleeting, there one moment, gone the next.

If you didn't look you might not even notice it, he was sure Amy didn't in fact. But living for a thousand years had given Rory some sort of insight in human nature and although the Doctor wasn't human, he wasn't that different in the end.

But this man, this Doctor, always seemed like there was something brewing underneath. It was impossible not to notice the sadness that lured behind the smile, and Rory felt as if he saw the weight of hundreds of disasters in the big brown eyes.

No, this man was most defiantly not Amy's Doctor, but Rory couldn't help but wonder if he could be his.