Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
Sorry for the delay, long work hours. =) And good heavens, I think I've written something sappy...*headdesk*
"What do you even want my memories for?" Rory watched as Ava adjusted a few settings on one of the panels. "I can assure you that there is not much in them but tedium, pain, and suffering."
She did not respond.
Agent Cartwell came into the room, holding a bowl and spoon. He stopped in front of Rory. "Open up."
"Do you honestly think I am going to eat anything that you give me?"
The man shrugged. "It's up to you. Do you think you can last much longer without food?"
The nurse fell silent. A mental catalogue of his body told him Cartwell was right. His limbs already trembled from lack of nutrition and he knew if he didn't eat, shock would set in. There would be no chance to escape if that happened. He reluctantly opened his mouth.
Agent Cartwell stuck a spoonful of rather unappetizing glob into his mouth.
"That's like oatmeal without all of the flavor," he commented after he swallowed.
The man snickered and stuffed another spoonful into his mouth.
"It will keep you alive for the time being." Ava clicked over to his chair and adjusted some of the wires around his head. "Do you even know who we are?"
The glop stuck to the roof of his mouth, so his reply came out muffled, "I'm wot an expert in sadithik, awien species."
"We're empaths, Mr. Williams, powerful empaths. We can take your emotions - from the most innocuous to the most violent - and amplify them until they are nearly unbearable."
Rory gave a wry smile. "But you can't even use the pain of losing my daughter to make me open that door."
"I wouldn't say that. We're closer than we ever were before. We're wearing you down, Mr. Williams, and soon, you will give in. You will let down your barriers and let us in."
The glob settled in Rory's stomach like a lump of lead. He couldn't deny that his thoughts were fracturing. The barrier that he'd so carefully built around his memories was starting to crumble. He wasn't entirely certain what would happen if they gave way, but he was sure it wouldn't be anything good. "I think we'll both regret it when that happens."
Ava turned to him and, for once, her eyes were soft. "Why do you keep them locked away anyway? Surely such knowledge would be helpful? I mean, technically, you're older than the Doctor."
"Yes, exactly! But he's an alien, a timelord, he's used to having all of those memories in his head. I'm just a human. We weren't meant to live so long. I've lived through hundreds of generations of men where one lifetime has enough pain, love, hate, and sorrow to kill a man. Breaking into those memories is not a good idea - for either of us. Please let me go."
Agent Cartwell, at least, looked like he was listening. He held his bowl of glop and stared at it guiltily.
Ava, on the other hand, lost the gentleness in her eyes. The stern set of her jaw assured Rory that there would be no changing her mind. "I am not interested in what you think the consequences will be, Mr. Williams. If you will not cooperate with us, then I'm afraid we have no choice but to move to stage four."
Cartwell glanced between the two of them. "I haven't finished feeding him yet."
"Doesn't matter, take that away." She waved him out of the room.
"Why won't you listen to me?!" Rory jerked uselessly at his restraints. All that his struggles accomplished was reopening the wound on his shoulder. He could feel the blood seeping through the bandages.
Ava leaned in close, her nose inches from his. "We need those memories and nothing you can say or do will convince me to abandon my pursuit."
"You're making a mistake."
"Don't worry, Mr. Williams, I think you'll enjoy stage four."
He blinked.
Amy stood there - smiling and looking just as beautiful as when he'd last seen her. He had to force himself to look away from her, remind himself that she was not real.
They were in a park - one that Rory couldn't put a name to. But the warmth of the sun on his skin was a welcome change. They neared a bridge over a small creek and Amy's hand slipped into his. Her fingers felt the same - still thin, long, and warm.
It's not real. It's not real.
"Rory?" The lilt in her voice was tinged with concern. "Are you alright? You're quieter than usual."
He made the mistake of looking up to tell her that she was an illusion. One glimpse of her face made him forget what he was going to say.
Amy's eyes softened with worry. The brown took on a warmer hue whenever she was concerned and this time was no exception. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering her, he stopped walking and pulled her closer to him, burying his nose in her hair. Even her scent was familiar. All of the proportions of her body were correct. Every curve, every line exactly where they should be.
Her voice came out muffled from where he had her face pressed against his shoulder, "Rory? What's the matter? You're starting to scare me."
"I'm starting to scare me too." His eyes burned traitorously. "I'm beginning not to be able to tell the difference."
Now she pulled back from his embrace so that she could look at him. "Tell the difference between what?"
"You're not real, but I so want you to be. If I give in, if I love you, they'll get what they want."
"Rory, what are you talking about? Of course I'm real. I'm your wife!"
"You're a figment of my imagination that they are using to get information from me." He closed his eyes, unable to bear the hurt on her face.
"Who are they? I don't understand. I'm real."
Those long, beautiful fingers came to rest on either side of his face. He opened his eyes again and stared into the worried face of his wife. "I miss you."
Her eyes glistened with tears. "I'm right here."
"No, you're -"
Her lips touched his. He forgot everything, caught up in her taste, the familiar press of her lips on his. All questions of reality faded from his mind as he drew her closer to him. He needed this.
Off in the distance, the cracks on the door grew wider.
"The energy readings are getting stronger." Mickey let himself into Jack's office without knocking again.
Jack drummed on his desk with his fingertips, his eyes locked on the screens in front of him. "I noticed. That must mean that the empaths are getting closer to achieving their goal. The more they break into the mind of their quarry, the stronger the readings will be."
Mickey came up closer to the screens. "Well, that's good, isn't it? This means we can narrow down our search to a specific area now, can't we? And it looks like they're coming from an area near Cardiff."
"It's good in a way." Jack stood up and put on his trench coat. "At least we can be ready to go when we get a more accurate lock on our target."
Mickey could tell there was something the other man wasn't telling him. The tense set of his jaw and shoulders was enough to worry anyone in Torchwood. "What's wrong?"
"Come on, Mickey." Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder and exited the office.
The other man had no choice but to tag along as Jack began to bark orders about what they needed to take when they left Torchwood. He finished off his list with, "And be ready to leave at a minute's notice. When we get a lock on the target, we have to get there as soon as possible, got that?"
The others murmured their understanding and got to work gathering supplies. Mickey was not so easily distracted. "Jack, what's wrong? Why do we have to get there so soon?"
The captain sighed, his eyes refusing to meet the other man's. "Because in order to get an accurate lock, we're going to have to let them break into that man's mind. And once they do that...I have no idea what state he'll be in."
Every time Martha's phone rang, Amy's eyes locked on her. Since the woman was highly ranked in UNIT, she was called often, but Amy couldn't help but watch to see if there would be some development in Rory's situation.
The Doctor had long ago lost them in one of his excited rambles about some alien gadget. Now he was running his screwdriver over the device and chattering as it picked up a new reading.
Martha's phone buzzed again. "Hello?...What?"
Amy sat up a little straighter. There was something different about the doctor's tone this time around. Her concern increased as Martha's worried eyes unconsciously met hers.
"And there's no other way?...Are you sure?"
Amy got up and made her way over to the Doctor's side. Her hand fisted in the back of his coat, grounding her and assuring her that he was still there. By the look on Martha's face, Amy could tell she was going to need all of the support she could get.
"What's the matter, Pond?" The Doctor turned to her, shutting off his screwdriver.
Martha hung up her phone and stared at it.
"What is it? What's the matter?"
The other woman cleared her throat. "Jack will be able to save your husband."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Amy glanced between the two of them. "Isn't it?"
The Doctor's face grew solemn. "They're going to break into his mind."
Martha nodded. "And I'm afraid we cannot guarantee his recovery."