I do not own Doctor Who.

UNIT's facility was huge. Amy kept her eyes wide-open as Martha led them through the labyrinth of her workplace. After they'd convinced the police force that they were not, in fact, hostile, the Doctor and Amy were allowed to accompany UNIT and the bodies back to headquarters where they would be able to help identify what caused the wounds.

Martha kept up a chipper tone as she explained the layout. "We keep our morgue on the third level underground as it is cooler and less accessible to people who may want to tamper with evidence. Only people with badges of a certain clearance are allowed in there."

"And, of course, you're one of those people," said the Doctor.

"Of course," she grinned. "Sometimes I do double duty and perform autopsies. It's not really my line of work, but even I can't resist curious cases like this one."

"I bet." The Doctor had a strange, wistful expression on his face that Amy had never seen before - a sort of nostalgic look. "And how's Mickey?"

Another bright, kilowatt smile lit up Martha's face. "He's doing great. We've finally worked out a schedule where both of us can be home most nights and that's added some much-needed stability to our marriage. Plus, we occasionally get to work together on the field and that's always enjoyable. He's over at Torchwood today, helping Jack with something. You should stick around here for a little while when we wrap this up - we'd all love to catch up with you."

"Hmm, maybe."

Amy had her arms crossed now. She hated being out of the loop and it had never occurred to her that there were other people out there who had just as many amazing adventures with the Doctor as she did. Now she couldn't help but think that all of those times when the Doctor was late, he was really just catching up with other old friends.

It hit her then. She suddenly understood Rory's perspective of the Doctor when the alien came back and swept her away on the night before her wedding. He'd always been so faithful to play along with her games and even dress up as the Doctor, but when he realized it was all real, when he saw how enchanted she was with the Doctor, there had been an unmistakable expression of pain on his face.

She had always thought he just being jealous and petty, but now she could see what it meant to take the back burner to another companion of the Doctor's. Oh Rory, I cause you nothing but pain and still you're loyal to me. I'm so sorry. Please be alright. I'm coming for you.

"Amy?"

She blinked.

Martha and the Doctor were several yards in front of her, about to open one of the doors. She hadn't realized she'd stopped walking until that moment. She jogged to catch up with them. "Yes, sorry, coming."

Martha slid her id through a scanner and the door opened, leading them into a room with several metal tables in it. Three of the tables had bodies covered with white sheets on them.

Amy wrinkled her nose at the smell. "You know what? I'm not really good with the whole dead body autopsy thing. I think I will wait outside if that's alright with you?"

The Doctor waved her out, already pulling back one of the sheets, his screwdriver ready in the other hand.

You'd better not end up like them, Rory, she thought as she exited the room. You've died enough, don't make this time the one that counts.

Rory had been left alone in the white room for hours. Occasionally he drifted off to sleep since there was nothing else to do, but every time he did so, he had strange dreams about the Silence and the locked door. Each time he felt pressured to open the door and each time he resisted.

It was like Pandora's box all over again. He didn't know what was behind that door, but he was certain it was nothing good.

Then again, it was just a dream...wasn't it?

Perhaps at one time, he would have thought so. But all those months running from the Silence and then ending up at Demon's Run caused him to second guess everything that seemed real.

The panel door slid open. Ava stepped in, looking a little more frazzled than she had when he first met her.

"Rough day?" He asked.

She stopped a few feet in front of him, her clipboard still firmly clasped in her hands. "You're not afraid of much, are you, Mr. Williams?"

Rory allowed himself a small smile, remembering a similar conversation with the Doctor in that wacky hotel with the minotaur. "When you've traveled through space and time, you learn the things that you once feared are not quite as scary as you thought and death is less painful than you imagined."

"Yes, you've died several times before, haven't you? But only one time really counted, correct?"

Rory frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Oh, I think you do," Ava paused. Her fingers drummed lightly on the back of her clipboard. After a moment, she seemed to come to a decision and turned her attention to one of the blank walls. "I don't think stage one is going to work with this one. Not this time. I suggest we move on to stage two."

"Stage two? What's stage two? For that matter, what was stage one?" Rory's heart rate increased and he could feel sweat starting to make his hands clammy.

Another small panel opened and revealed a handgun. As Ava picked it up, Rory could well-understand the Doctor's hatred for weapons. The woman walked back over to the entrance. "We'll start with some basic pain tolerance."

"Pain tolerance?" He didn't like the sound of that.

She paused at the door, turned, and shot him in the shoulder.

He was too surprised to even cry out. For a moment or two, he didn't even feel the pain. But as hot blood began to soak through his shirt, he felt sharp tendrils sink into his body like a vice. A gasp escaped him. He turned watery eyes to the woman. "I...don't understand...why?"

Ava left the room.

"I hate it when she does that." Rory pressed his head back against the chair, trying to block out the sensation of heat and deep-searing pain radiating from his shoulder. "You've been shot before. You can handle this."

Except last time, he'd died and the pain was over. It didn't seem like these people had any inclination to follow that particular pattern this time.

They didn't even ask me anything. What are they after?

The Silurian commander sank her knife into his shoulder and twisted. "Vermin, did you really think you could kill my sister and just get away with it?"

"I...I didn't...kill her!" Rory gasped. White stars burst in his vision as the weapon jerked free from his body.

"You are a liar, born from a race of liars, and I won't let your presence continue to plague this planet." She crossed the room and retrieved her gun.

It was then that Rory realized he was untied. He pressed a hand to his aching shoulder and ran, avoiding the blast from the Silurian's weapon just in time.

She screeched and gave chase.

The path he ran along led out to the main square of the Silurian city. He scrambled down one of the banks and reached the streets, darting past several empty Silurian houses.

He saw it then. The door. The same stone one that had been haunting him since - when did that door start appearing?

Rory slowed to a halt a few feet in front of the door. For a moment, he was able to forget the burning pain in his shoulder. An irresistible urge brought him those last few steps to the door. His fingers brushed against the stone.

A strange humming filled the air.

"What are you?" He whispered.

"Vermin!"

He whirled.

The Silurian guard had found him, her gun leveled at his chest. "I dare you to open that door. Just try and see how far you make it!"

"What's behind it?"

She hissed and shot him - right in his wounded shoulder.

Rory screamed, falling back against the door. The humming grew louder, more anxious. It seemed that, if he could just open the door, step through, he could escape from all of this pain.

But something held him back, a whisper of danger lurking behind the door.

He turned his gaze back to the Silurian. "Go ahead. Shoot."

She didn't need any more encouragement.

His shoulder still ached. The white room came back into focus.

A woman's voice. "It's not enough."

Pain enveloped his senses.