Chapter Four- Back to the Start
This was how Amy and Rory had ended up alone in the TARDIS for one week; they hadn't moved from the mysterious planet but stowed away inside the TARDIS; not daring to even peek outside.
The mud interior of the corridors was all Amy could see on the TARDIS monitor; dirt and mud and nothing else. It was starting to become annoying because Amy was tired of the same picture every hour, of every day.
She was tired of missing the Doctor, she was tired of the stupid food that was stocked almost everywhere in the TARDIS; Rory had even found a few tins in floating in the swimming pool.
"Amy" Rory loudly whispered, and she raised her brow but walked on over to where he was peering intently at the monitor, his jaw slack with what she thought was wonder and fright and the same time.
"What?" She asked, louder than him but stopped as soon as she was close enough to look over his shoulder. Because on the screen where it was previously just mud, there was no something moving in the darkness, just a shadow, a medium sized figure that stood right in front of the TARDIS.
"Can they see us?" Rory asked, cocking his head to the side as he looked from the monitor to the doors; Amy was wondering the exact same thing.
"I don't know" she responded honestly, what's the point in trying to hide the truth now, no matter how terrifying? "I wouldn't think so, look, you can tell it's facing away from us." You could see the shape of broad shoulders and the turn of its head, looking down the corridor, seemingly waiting for something. Or someone.
"What do we do?" Rory asked; constantly asking questions that Amy had no answers to so she just shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I think going out of those doors is out of the question" he replied with a grimace on his young, human face.
"What, why?!" Amy half shrieked at her husband, planting her hands on her hips and staring at him. "That thing is the first movement we have seen for seven days, Rory. If we have a chance to find the Doctor and get out of here, I'm pretty sure taking it is splendid idea."
So for ten minutes, husband and wife argued back and forth with remarks about what they should do, bitter quips that would cause more trouble if not resolved.
Well, that was until Amy marched past Rory and shrugged on her brown leather jacket and pulled on her almost knee high boots, pulling her hair into a tight pony tail to keep it out of the way and stared at her husband.
"I am going Rory, with or without you."
And Rory Pond knew that his wife was being deadly serious, she had her arms folded roughly over her chest and her head was cocked to one side; her lips set in a determined line. Reluctantly, Rory grabbed his own jacket and followed Amy like a lost puppy.
"Fine" he grumbled, none too happy about this.
It was now or never.
