"He's not dead," said Rory.

They were in the control room, one of the biggest rooms in a very big ship. After some debate they'd decided to go looking for the Doctor. They'd gone for the control room first because it was the only room they were sure could find in the dark. The TARDIS was bigger than Rory's imagination, and sometimes the less-used rooms changed location or disappeared entirely. But the control room was always in the heart of the TARDIS. They went there immediately.

Lucky thing, too, because they'd found the Doctor right off.

He was slumped on the floor, unconscious, knees drawn up to his chest.

There followed several tense moments. Rory said, "Stay back," but he didn't follow his own advice. He was in the room in seconds, kneeling by the Doctor's head.

Amy had to brace herself against the door. "Is he breathing?" she called after her husband. "Rory, just tell me."

"Shh!" said Rory, all Casualty Department nurse now. He held up a palm. "Stay there."

How do you measure the pulse of a man with two hearts? Rory had no idea. He felt both the Doctors' wrists and found a heartbeat in both. It was slow and the rhythm was off. But maybe it was just fine for a time-traveling alien. No way to know. The Doctor was curled in a foetal position but not contorted. His face was slack, his limbs loose as a sleeping child's. His skin was clammy but not especially warm or cold. He was breathing, but the breaths came shallow and quick. He did not respond to Rory's shakes, shouts or pinches.

"Rory," said Amy sharply.

"He's not dead," Rory repeated. "I think it's safe to come in."

A moment later Rory's wife knelt beside him, clutching the Doctor's limp hand, patting it and fretting.

"What happened to him?" Amy demanded.

"I don't know," said Rory. "He's not hurt. It's like he just…" Rory shook his head. "It's like he just fell asleep. Except he's barely breathing, Amy, look."

"I see," she said. She swept the Doctor's hair aside, her face all tenderness, causing a little pang deep in Rory's heart. "I don't think I've ever seen him sleep before. Not without help." She gently lifted both his eyelids, but they could see only the whites underneath. Amy's face lit with anger. "But how could something get him here? Inside the TARDIS he's safe. We're all safe."

"Maybe you're wrong," said Rory. "Maybe something got in."

They looked left and right at the silent ship.

"Like what?" said Amy.

"I don't know," said Rory. "Come on, let's put him a recovery position. If he lays that way he could choke."

Rory showed Amy how to roll the Doctor so he wouldn't swallow his tongue. When they were done it did seem like he was breathing a little better. But who knew? Just because he seemed human didn't mean he was. Maybe moving him had made things worse. Maybe Amy and Rory would kill him just by fumbling around. That was just one of the problems Rory had with the Doctor's world (which was Rory's world now, too): they weren't playing by Earth rules anymore.

"Should we cover him?" said Amy.

"Can't hurt," said Rory, though he didn't know for sure. "It's cold in here."

Amy clattered around the control room fishing in lockers and trunks. From one she took a long brown coat, which she draped over the Doctor's still form. She handed Rory a spare blanket, then wrapped one around her own shoulders.

"Now this feels familiar," said Rory.

"I don't think we're dreaming this time," said Amy. "I think this is real."

So did Rory. He chewed a knuckle said, "Do you think he's regenerating? Becoming a different person? You were with him last time. Is this how it starts?"

Amy shrugged, then shook her head. "I didn't really see it," she said.

"We have to do something," said Rory. "If he doesn't wake or… change."

"I know," said Amy.

"I'm not even sure the air is circulating," said Rory.

"I know."

"We could die in here. We have to do something."

"I'm open to ideas," said Amy.

So they sat together and thought. What Rory knew about the Doctor and TARDIS could fit on the head of a pin, so he thought about home, and Amy, and the past, and the future.

Every ten minutes or so, Rory checked the Doctor's pulse and breathing. Every time he checked, he felt even more sure in his conclusion: deep coma. The Doctor might wake up in just a moment, or never again, and there was no way to know until it happened. But if he didn't stir soon, Amy and Rory were going to have to take matters into their own hands. But how were they supposed do that? He looked at the array of buttons, wheels and switches on the control panel and despaired.

Nothing came screaming out of the dark to eat them. And the Doctor didn't die.

After an eternity, Rory felt Amy move.

"What?" said Rory.

"Thought of something."

"Just do it," said Rory. "I vote yes."

"Yeah, but I want to explain it anyway." She rose and stretched, then began pacing the room like an anxious cat. "When I was a little girl, the TARDIS crashed into my garden. Remember?"

Remember? Amy's magic police box remained one of the seminal stories of Rory's young life. And that was before he knew it was true. He nodded.

"It was totally out of control," said Amy. "It might have crashed anywhere in the world."

"All right," said Rory. "With you so far."

"So why my garden? Why did it fall there?"

"Lucky, I guess."

Amy shook her head. "Nobody's that lucky. I needed this box, Rory." She patted the scaffolding affectionately, staring up at the central column. "I didn't know it. But I needed the Doctor. To fix the crack in my wall. And he needed me. To tell him it was there."

"And feed him fish custard," Rory pointed out.

"Shut up, dear," said Amy. "I'm saving our lives here."

Rory gave her a friendly salute. "Listening, mum."

"The TARDIS was broken. But it still went right it needed to be, at exactly the right minute. The right second. And that's not the only time it's... sort of gone off on its own."

"It took us to see the lizard people in that little village," Rory recalled.

"Exactly," said Amy. "Sometimes the box goes where its told, but sometimes... I think it goes where it needs to be. Maybe all the time."

"Wait." Rory gripped the bridge of his nose between his thumbs. His head was starting to ache. "Are you saying we should just hit some buttons, pull the lever, and this thing will go whizzing off into the vast unknown?"

"No," said Amy. "Not the unknown. It'll go somewhere good. Maybe somewhere we can get help."

Rory sat on the floor with his mouth half-open.

"Look," she said, a little angrily. "If you think it's stupid—"

"I do think it's stupid," said Rory. "And dangerous. And completely irresponsible."

Her face fell.

"I also think it's brilliant. We should absolutely do it." Rory extended a hand. "Help me up."

"Yes!" Amy punched the air, then pulled Rory to his feet.

###

Their faces loomed over the controls.

"Don't touch that one," said Amy, pointing at a blue button. "He's always been very keen on not touching that."

"Okay," said Rory. "What else?"

"Don't pull the big lever till last," said Amy. "Obviously."

"Obviously," Rory echoed. It was about the only piece of equipment on the TARDIS that he recognized: the lever that made it go zoom.

"I'll go first." Amy chewed her lip, then carefully pressed a big red button that she'd always wanted to press. She took a few steps backward and gripped Rory's arm. They both looked up at the vast gold cavern of the TARDIS control room. At first there was nothing. Then a hiss like steam escaping a kettle, and a sound like tung.

The TARDIS shook, then settled.

They both looked at the Doctor, half-expecting him to leap back to life.

He was the same. His eyes didn't even flicker.

"Okay." Rory was a little surprised that the whole thing hadn't simply exploded.

Amy nudged him with her elbow. "Your move."

He found the one that looked like a brass egg beater and wound the crank. He wound it as hard as he could. It made a snick-snick-snick noise. When he stopped TARDIS buzzed like a game-show buzzer.

That was the signal for go. They went nuts on the control panel, winding every windy bit, depressing every button. Rory picked up the phone, dialed 999, and left it off the hook. Amy pounded SAFETY into the typewriter, and HELP. Rory hit a set of green buttons with a little rubber mallet. Dials were turned to 11, all levers switched to on or open, and when a panel of circuit breakers popped open, Rory hit them all at once. Every giant button you ever wondered about, every ignition key, every mystery switch: they all seemed to be somewhere on the control panel, and Amy and Rory were determined to press them all in whatever sequence seemed appealing. Soon they were laughing and whooping like children, and the TARDIS rocked and swayed like a bottle in the ocean.

"No power, ha," Amy said, flipping a set of switches.

"I'll show you power," Rory said.

Presently there was just one lever left. The big one.

They both arrived there at the same moment, out of breath. The TARDIS was making sounds neither of them had ever heard before, and white smoke was collecting in the center column. There was a persistent smell of burnt sugar.

"What if it really is broken?" Amy murmured.

"What if we die?" Rory countered.

They looked at each other.

"I love you," they said at exactly the same moment.

Rory put his hands on top of Amy's, and they pulled the lever together.