17 days earlier/Day 1

Only one person was left.

"Fuck! FUCK! Dammit! No! Amy, you fucking idiot! Aaah..." Rory screamed in frustration and lifted his eyes to the heavens, as if that could do any good. She was really gone. The love of his life had freaking TOUCHED THE DOCTOR and been sucked away to the future and she was NEVER GOING TO COME BACK. I'm trapped here in this damn sterile machine alone for ever, he thought wildly. He couldn't even feel the tears streaming down his face as he roared in impotent anger and spun wildly, as if there were enemies to fight.

"Ah FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" he screamed again. His chest felt small and crushed, far too small to hold his panicking, breaking heart... the beat was deadly slow and huge, like a bomb inside of him...

Somewhere, from a distance, a calmer Rory wondered how long he could panic like this before he just keeled over. "Oh, that'd be good. The two of them god knows where and me, here in the TARDIS, dead as a doornail. FUCK. OK. Think, Rory. Think. Calm down. Get a hold of it." He forced himself to stop screaming, to stop spinning, to sit and try to focus. He wiped the tears on the back of his hand.

OK. OK. She isn't dead, he thought - I've gotta believe that she isn't dead. He said she could survive a jump. One jump. She'll be back. I waited two thousand years for her - he shuddered at the memory - I can wait a few more hours. Just a few more hours.

Then what will I do to keep her from jumping away again? He fought to stay focused and think, his hand rubbing his jaw hard enough to leave a red mark.

If I get her away from touching the doctor, she should be fine. That's my number one priority. I'll just wait right here and as soon as they reappear, I'll grab her away.

Then what? The doctor will be dead, probably. Dammit...We've got to get ourselves out of here. And Amy...well, he couldn't escape the voice in his head that told him that when Amy reappeared, she would at best be in very bad shape.

His chest was still heaving but his heartbeat felt closer to normal. He looked at the TARDIS console and thought.

Day 2

Rory woke alone and cold, his cheek smashed against the floor of the tardis. He pulled the rough blanket off of himself and sat up. He felt depression hanging on him, pulling him down, to where all he wanted to do was go back to sleep...

No, he thought. I have to figure this out. She will come back. She just will. And I need to be ready.

By that evening (or as close to evening as he could tell inside a windowless time machine), he had put together the best system that he could think of. He'd stripped the shirt off of his back and torn it down the middle to make two long ribbons of cloth. Tied together, they were long enough to reach from one half of the TARDIS console to the other. He'd tied this homemade gearshift tightly to Amy's chrome lever, and left the other end where he could reach it from the other side.

Now he had a way to pull all three levers at once.

If she ever came back.

Day 6

Still no sign of anybody's return.

Rory kept himself as distracted as he could with exercise and exploring the TARDIS console. His shirt hung where he'd tied it, as useless as Rory himself.

He tried not to think of the worst, but it was staring him a little closer in the face every morning.

Day 12

Rory's beard was coming in well, now. It itched, but it helped to keep him warm in his new, cold, small world. He'd started talking to himself. He felt a little like a beast in a terrarium. Was somebody up there watching him? Might he expect a treat to be thrown into the TARDIS occasionally?

"Crap," he said. "I'm really going insane."

Day 16

No change. Nothing moved in his little world. He was starting to wonder why he was hanging on at all. Every night Amy reappeared in his dreams, and begged him to save her. Every night, he tried, and failed.

Every morning, he woke up a little later, cold, alone...and a little closer to the edge.

Day 18

POP

And there she was. Right in front of him.

Was he dreaming? His thoughts flew and his head spun. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore. Please God, he thought, let this be real - let this be Amy - it isn't! It can't be! It is!

In the first tiny second after she appeared, her eyes met his. And she started to smile. And his whole world became warm and soft and wonderful... It was her! She's back, you're back, you're here! He reached out to her, tears already pouring down his face -

But he was totally unprepared for what happened next. He'd seen the doctor's re-appearance before, seen him bruised and frozen and battered...but that had happened gradually. Over three jumps. And that was the doctor. Not his fiancee...

As quickly as she'd appeared, Amy's eyes rolled back in her head. She sputtered, choked, and was suddenly covered in blood. Stunned, he managed to catch her as she collapsed. She was unconscious before he even understood what was going on. Blood and ice crystals smeared everywhere and made her slippery in his arms.

His heart was pounding. He had no air, no thoughts...and then he saw that the doctor had also reappeared, lying unconscious, frozen, and very still on the floor next to Amy. And Rory remembered what he had to do.

Roughly, moving as fast as he could, he jerked Amy several feet away so that there was no chance of her accidentally touching the doctor. Her hair was filled with ice. With shaking hands he laid her down on the cold floor, wishing he had a blanket close by to cover her.

But there was no time for that. The doctor could get sucked away again at any moment - and it had already occurred to Rory that even though the doctor and Amy were no longer touching, who knew if she might disappear again too? Maybe now that it had happened once, she'd be "attractive" to the timewave, too...he couldn't risk it. He had to move fast.

He spent one more precious second to run his lips across her frozen forehead, his tears landing on her skin. "Amy...my love...I'll get us out of this!" he murmured into her hair.

Then, hating to tear himself away from her, he forced himself to run to the TARDIS console. Finally, finally! He was going to get a chance to save them all. Please, please, let this work.

He climbed up on the console. He placed his foot on the silver knob. Stretched as far as he could to reach the wooden lever. And he grabbed his torn shirt-tail in his other hand, sent up one more prayer to anyone who might be listening, and YANKED with all of his might.

Unbelievably, after 18 days of rest, the TARDIS leapt as if stung by a bee - and kept going! The room whirled like a rollercoaster, flinging him to the edges of the room. Rory could have sworn it even turned upside-down. He was slammed into a wall. He lost track completely of where he was, and just closed his eyes and hung on as the room spun and dipped, jumped and wobbled...

Then it was over. Slowly, Rory's head stopped spinning. He blinked. He loosened the death grip that he had on a railing, and sat up. His head was throbbing. Every part of him felt bruised and battered.

His shirt was hanging in ribbons from the TARDIS console, totally shredded. Amy and the doctor had also been flung to the edges of the Tardis room, far from him. He saw Amy's red hair splayed out around her and his heart yearned to go to her, help her...but he had to know, first:

Had they made it? Or did he need to try again?

With a huge effort he forced his aching body up and he ran to the door. Oh please, oh please, he thought...let us be anywhere else...let us be out of the timewave...!

He grabbed the heavy door and pulled, his eyes shaded from the blinding light that he knew would appear and show him that he'd failed...

...but it did not come.

The searing light of the timewave was gone. The TARDIS floated effortlessly, rocking gently, in open space. Rory was looking out at galaxies, suns, stars, and the void between...he could see a million stars and not a one had ever looked so beautiful to him.

I did it! I did it!

He allowed himself just a second to stand in thanks, drinking in the sights. Then Rory turned back inside the TARDIS, to go to his love, and to try to save her life.