"OW!" The Doctor yelped in pain, as the TARDIS sent a sharp shock through the panel. "What did you do that for?"
Rose and Arthur watched in mild concern, and partial amusement, as the Doctor attempted to touch the lever again, only to have his hand shocked again.
"What's going on?" Rose asked, and placed a hand on the console. She received a mild static shock for her efforts, less painful than the Doctor was receiving, almost as if she was being warned to stay out of the situation.
"Now, stop it." The Doctor scolded the machine like an ineffectual parent. "We have a job to do, we don't have time for this." He folded his arms across his chest.
"I'm a time machine." He heard her scoff within his head, the psychic link between them extending to a brief conversation, as it was prone to on occasion. "I have all the time in the universe. I can get you back for five minutes ago."
He scowled at that, disliking having the authority swept from under his feet. "Alright, what do you want?"
A quick montage of images played in his head, pulling his face from the frown to a sombre expression, his eyes losing their warmth as each picture played.
Amy crying over Rory's dying body,
Amy crying in the TARDIS as the Doctor tried to make her remember what was happening,
Amy forgetting,
Amy crying,
Amy crying,
Amy crying,
Amy with the ring,
Amy crying,
Amy experimenting with the gadgets,
Amy crying,
Amy sitting in her room, looking at photographs,
Amy crying,
The Doctor kissing her forehead,
Amy in pain,
Amy leaves the console room,
Amy walks down the corridor,
Amy sits on her bed,
Amy crying,
"Amy..." He whispered, his own eyes glistening with moisture at the images. "I'll be back in a bit." He said aloud to the others, and left the room without looking at them.
He found the room quickly, just down the hall from Rose's. He hadn't been in here in a while, purposefully distancing himself from her recently, started when he found out that Amy was engaged, and then the guilt of Rory's departure had put a certain strain on their relationship.
It was this moment again, he realised, the make or break moment. There was one with every companion who travelled with him. There would be a point that something would freak them out, and they'd consider going home. With Donna it was the slave Ood. Rose even had two, the psychic nature of the TARDIS and his regeneration. With Amy it was going to apparently be being shot in the leg.
The door was open, and he stood in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at her as she sat on the bed, back to the door, looking down at her lap. He eventually forced himself to move, walking silently through the room, and sat down on the bed beside Amy, facing the doorway instead of her.
"Hello." He said awkwardly.
"Hi." She replied, her voice catching in her throat as she realised she was crying again. She wiped away a tear.
"I'm sorry about your leg." He told her, glancing briefly at her, before back to the door, unsure of himself. He didn't seem to be much good at emotional situations in this body, although, had he ever been? It seemed to be something he shied away from.
"It's okay." She told him. "Nothing compared with almost being turned into a vampire-fish thing."
"Yeah." He laughed, then felt guilty again, realising how much danger he constantly puts her in. It wasn't fair. "I'm sorry." He repeated.
They sat in awkward silence for a few more seconds, until Amy changed the subject abruptly, as was her habit.
"Doctor, why did I tell Rose I was engaged?"
He stiffened for a second, not knowing how to act, how to react. Usually his brain was fast enough in stressful situations to come up with quick answers, but apparently this sort of stress was different.
"Did you?" He asked, his faux nonchalance wildly transparent.
"Yes," She replied, and pulled the ring box out of her pocket, handing it to him. "Who's is this?"
He looked down at it, but didn't accept it. "Yours." He said, his voice choking up to his annoyance.
"Oh, really?" She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She couldn't work out why she was suddenly getting angry, but she was running with it. "Yeah, I worked that bit out on my own."
"Oh." He said, useless, trying desperately to work out how to handle the situation, his big brain coming up a blank.
"Who gave it to me?" She turned on the bed to face the Doctor, hitching her leg up and ignoring the dull throb of pain that accompanied it.
The Doctor sat silently for a few seconds as his brain finally kicked into action. He turned round to look at her.
"Amy, you need to remember it. I can't just give you the answers, I need to let you get there on your own."
"Is this him?" She asked, pulling out the mysterious photo from earlier and giving it to him.
"Okay, you got quite far on your own." He admitted.
"Doctor, I can't put up with this anymore!" She cried, eyes damp with moisture. "I can't stand it! I keep feeling depressed, or start crying, and not notice until someone else points it out!"
"You're crying now." He told her, and instantly regretted his words. Her face tightened and she stood up.
"That's because I'm angry!" She yelled, pacing a bit as she tried to control her emotions.
"Oh." He said again, trying to think. He spun round on the bed, his back now to the door as hers had been, and he looked up at the gorgeous Scottish woman. "Amy, where did you learn how to diagnose shock?"
She stopped pacing and looked down at his in surprise. "I..." She trailed off, trying to remember, pushing the boundaries of her memory, like trying to remember a dream.
"Come on Amy, you did it like an expert, someone must have taught you!"
"I can't..." She started, confusion clouding her features. "Does it matter?"
"Yes, Amy, it matters! Who taught you?" He demanded, and felt his heart melt a bit as more tears left her eyes.
This was it, the point of no return. He usually loved this bit, the excitement before the jump, the bit before everything changed, but this time he didn't. He got the feeling it was going to change for the worse, and the idea that Amy might leave him wrenched at his soul.
"Okay, next question." He announced. "Who came with us to Venice?"
She reacted the same way, disjointed sentences leaving her mouth as her brain worked overtime.
"Amy," He asked, careful not to let his imagination play a part in the next question. "Who was your first kiss?"
"Jeff." She told him quickly, and he blinked in surprise.
"Oh. Really?" He asked, and she nodded. "When did that happen?"
"When I was thirteen, out in the school playground." She told him.
"And how did Rory feel about that?" He asked slyly, no change in his tone.
"He was always jealous of that." She told him. She suddenly clapped a hand to her mouth and her eyes opened wide. "What?"
"Good, Amy." He told her in the condescending tone of a school teacher. "And who's Rory?"
"I don't know." She said, her teeth clenched in frustration.
"Right." He said, thinking up a new question. "What was tomorrow morning?"
"I..." She started, but her expression changed, her eyebrows drawing together as something seeped into the corners of her memory. A fancy white dress. "A wedding?"
"Yes. Who's?"
"Mine?" She looked at him for confirmation, and he nodded.
"Yes, obviously, but who else?" He demanded. He watched as realisation dawned on her features and she sharply inhaled.
"Rory..." She murmured. "Rory Williams from Leadworth, my boyfriend." She recited, and her brain began to work on auto pilot, flooding her mind with memories, so many memories, from years in her past to just a few weeks ago. She fell back onto the bed, and the Doctor reached out to her, to steady her, to comfort her, whatever she needed.
She grasped his hand and turned to him, tears falling from her eyes. She shuffled closer to him, and he took her in a hug, her forhead pressed into his shoulder, and he held her as she went through her ordeal.
He wasn't quite prepared for what happened next, though. In her vulnerable state, like most people do, she reached out for comfort, but she did it in that certain way that is likely to cause trouble, much like back in her bedroom after the adventure with the weeping angels.
She shifted her head up, her forehead brushing the tip of his nose briefly, until she held her head level to his, and leant in. Passionately, powerfully, forcefully she kissed him, bringing her hands up to grip his hair. She leant in further, tipping him backwards.
A Time Lords brain is capable of holding many trains of thought at once.
This is bad. Very bad.
She's just remembered her dead fiancé. This is a bit weird.
Need to get back to work, big things are happening outside.
I'm kissing Amy Pond!
The latter thought was dominant for a second too long, and he revelled in the kiss, allowing his hearts to entertain the idea that there was happiness to be had.
But the other thoughts quickly snapped in. He placed his hands onto her shoulders, pushing her backwards, not all that gently. She made little resistance, and he was able to wriggle out from under her, this whole action taking less than two seconds.
Then he jumped off the bed and ran to the doorway, maintaining a distance between them.
"Amy, you have got to stop doing that!" He told her, his body working to stop himself from getting physically excited, while his brain worked equally hard to not to pay attention to all the beautiful little aspects of Amy that he had in his reach just a few seconds before. "There are many, many reasons why you need to stop doing that!"
He changed the subject. "If you don't want to come back to the base with us, that's fine, you've just been shot in the leg." 'And suffered some severe emotional turmoil'. He added silently, before leaving the room and heading back to the console room.
Rose and Arthur were chatting amiably when he walked in, and he strode straight up to the lever he had been meaning to slide earlier. After a second of cowardly hesitation, he placed his hand on it, and after receiving no shock for his efforts, slid it down, and began to work his way round the console, navigating it through the time vortex, back to the secret base.