It had taken Amy all of her strength and determination to get Sherlock back to the TARDIS. He had made it a bit easier for her by walking himself, her arm tightly around him in case he stumbled and fell, which he did on several occasions. She wasn't sure how long it had taken them to get back but it had felt like eternity.

Her face was aching and sore, from the cold water and bitter tears that streamed her cheeks and the headache she had quickly gained. Yet she didn't worry about herself. Sherlock was her only concern. She wasn't even thinking about the telling off she would surely receive from the Doctor. None of that mattered at the time.

"Help!" she breathed as she forced her way into the blue box, heaving Sherlock in with her. He suddenly collapsed on the floor, shivering, groaning.

"What happened?" It wasn't the Doctor's voice Amy heard.

Looking up, her eyes widened. "River? Since- since when did y-you get here?"

"I've been here the whole time, sweetheart. He left me behind." She glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor who had knelt down beside Sherlock.

"What did I tell you? Don't wander off!" The Doctor was angry. "Every single time, Amelia. Rule one: don't wander off. Why do my companions never listen to me?"

"Forget about that, Doctor. Sherlock needs help," Amy stuttered in bind panic.

"Amy, what happened?" River urged, her hands softly cradling the detective's neck, keeping him from choking. He was trying to say he was fine but nothing that came out of his mouth made any sense. He was numb with pain and shock.

"There was ice- the lake, I think- There was a mermaid and- well, we thought she was... Anyway, we went to look, but Sherlock he- he got pulled under-"

"It's okay," soothed River, nodding. "We need to get him to the sick bay, keep him warm and clean this wound."

"We need to do more than clean it." The Doctor's tone was laced with serious concern. Both women watched as he lifted Sherlock's coat collar from his neck. Through the red that stuck to his skin a green tint could be seen.

River and the Doctor exchanged looks and Amy frittered in worry. "What is it? Tell me!"

"We need to move him now!" River helped the Doctor lift Sherlock up.

"What is going on?!" Amy demanded, grabbing River's arm hard.

"He has poison in his system and if we don't deal with it now he could die."

Amy was told to stay in the console room while the Doctor and his wife took Sherlock off to the sick bay. She felt completely helpless. Slumping down on the leather seat she buried her head in her hands and cried. She didn't know what to do. Devastating thoughts swam around in her head to which she had no control over. What if he dies? I will be responsible for the death of the greatest detective that ever lived? Stop it, Amy. Pull yourself together. Have faith in the Doctor and River! But what if they can't do it? She hadn't even considered that she was soaking wet and cold. It was only when she noticed the purple veins visible through her extremely pale-blue skin that she decided to do something about her temperature.

She took a hot shower. She probably shouldn't have - it hurt like hell - but it was all she could think of. Then she changed into fresh clothes - leggings and a heavy jumper and wrapped a blanket around herself. She sat on the bed of her room, looking around for a while, before allowing herself to sob again. Only this time it wasn't because of Sherlock. The memories all came flooding back to her. Most of them to do with Rory and the times they had shared together in this room and the rest of the TARDIS. She still missed him and it still hurt. She fell asleep thinking of him and those moments.

When she woke, River was perched on her bed. Amy yawned, clawing at the blanket that she had cocooned herself in. She let her vision clear and eased herself up slowly. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours," said River with a gentle smile. "You look better than you did. I brought you a coffee."

"Thanks. I could do with it." She smiled vaguely. "Uh, how's Sherlock?"

"Don't worry about him. He will be fine. It took the Doctor a while but he managed to create an antidote that would reverse the effects of the poison. He will be ill for a while, but he will live."

"How ill?"

"There will be side effects. Dizziness, aches of the muscles, irritation of his skin, his memory will be a bit fuzzy..."

"He is not going to like that."

"It will pass. As will the green markings on his neck. We've covered the wound and kept him warm. He's sleeping. It's best to just let him recover on his own now."

Amy nodded. There wasn't going to be much else she could do now other than keep an eye on him back at Baker Street and make sure he didn't do anything stupid for a while. She figured that would be quite a mission. "I'll make sure he does as he's told."

River was giving her a look.

"What?"

"You know what?"

"Oh, is this the moment you try and persuade me to go back to Rory?"

"Amy-"

"It is, isn't it?"

"You need to go and see him."

"What for?"

"To talk to him. To sort this out."

"It is already sorted and there is nothing to talk about."

"He is in a bad way. The last time I saw him he was locked away in the house, moping around like a miserable teenager. He's not going to work. He's constantly staring at pictures of you and him. He's a mess, Amy."

"What can I do? He agreed to sign the divorce papers. He accepted the fact that we are over."

"Are you, though? Are you really over? I don't think you are. You have so much history, I've seen it all. You can't forget all of that."

"I haven't forgotten it all and nor do I intend to. I will always love Rory, River. Always. I will always be his friend. But he can't stay with me. I'll just let him down over and over again. He deserves so much better. Look I've already had this conversation with the Doctor."

The conversation went on and on. It turned into an argument at one point. Amy knew that River meant well but she wished that her daughter would accept things for what they were. But River was a very persuasive woman and in the end Amy agreed to visit Rory one day soon, not that she could see how it would help. She felt even worse than she had done earlier and her head was starting to pound again. She didn't want to feel all of this guilt. She imagined Rory at home alone, sad and angry and wallowing in self pity. It pained her to know that she had caused that, but she had faith that it would not last forever, and that he would find a nice girl who would treat him better than she had ever done, and make him happier than she ever could.

Amy tumbled back into sleep after River left, frustrated that her mother was too stubborn for her own good. After another hour or so, Amy woke, stretched and wandered about the TARDIS. All of the rooms had swapped places again. And she even found rooms she had never even seen before. She felt much than she had done hours ago. Her face was less achy and her headache had vanished. It was then that she wondered how Sherlock was doing. So she decided to pay him a visit. He had been on her mind in her dreams. Most of them had been terrible but her last one had been a dream of him recovering at Baker Street and then off to solve crimes again like his typical normal self.

The sick bay was close to her room, so she tidied up her room quickly before making for the sick bay. The last time she had been in there had been when she had got herself into an unfortunate accident in the TARDIS library. Those ladders were not safe.

At first she knocked on the door. When there was no answer she entered. Sherlock was awake, laid helplessly and frustrated on the narrow bed. His eyes followed Amy as she pulled a chair beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"When can I get out of here?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Soon," she said with a small smile. "You look better."

"I don't feel it."

"You were poisoned. The mermaid, when she scratched you she left venom in your system-"

"I know. I worked that out from the excruciating pain I was experiencing and the numbness of my limbs."

"Of course," she muttered. Of course he would know.

"I have never felt pain like that before. It was actually rather interesting. What an incredible way to harm someone. I shall have to investigate that further. It could be very useful."

"Okay..." Amy looked shocked. "That's not what people normally say."

"What do they normally say?" he asked, scratching his neck.

"Ow. And 'I am never experiencing that again' comes to mind." Her hand reached for his wrist and stopped him scratching. "I wouldn't... It might make it worse."

He lowered his hand and then tried to ease himself up, despite her protests. He did it anyway, sitting upright on the edge of the bed, the linen sheets falling slightly to reveal his toned bare chest and muscular shoulders. Amy's eyes wandered. She couldn't help it. She had assumed that he would be skinny, hardly anything there, but he had much more to show than she thought. He was... she didn't know, and she tried not to think about it.

"Side affects?" he said, eyes firmly fixated on her. His back throbbed and his throat was burning yet he took no notice. Feeling pain was always a good sign: it meant he was alive.

"Mmmm?" She hadn't realised he had been speaking. "Oh, yeah, urm..." Keep it together, Amy. "River mentioned something about an achy body, itching and dizziness and possible memory loss for a while."

"My memory is fine."

"Good... That's good..."

He examined her expression, the little movements her face made, differentiating from frowns to lip biting to exhaling heavily. "Are you alright?"

In an instant she nodded. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine. I just... You scared me, Sherlock, that's all. I thought- Well, I thought that- you know."

She met his gaze. For a moment they stared at each other, then he raised an eyebrow. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You really are not."

"I'm-" he began but she cut him off.

"You are not perfectly fine, Sherlock." Without realising her hand was placed on his wrist calmly. "Okay? I'm glad you think you're alright but it's going to take a while to get completely better. The Doctor is taking us back to Baker Street where you can rest and - don't argue with me Sherlock! You need to recover. I'll look after you. And John will, too."

"How tedious," he muttered under his breath. He didn't want to rest but it looked like he wouldn't have much choice.

At that Amy chuckled. "I'll get your clothes. Hopefully, they are dry by now." She rose from the chair.

"That woman," began Sherlock. "River... She's your daughter?"

"Yup."

"She's old enough to be your mother."

"Yeah, it's complicated."

"Is it?"

Amy inhaled heavily. "After she was born she was taken from me. She's... special, and a woman wanted her, to train her to kill the Doctor. Rory and I spent ages trying to find her. Her name was actually Melody and what I didn't realise at the time was that I spent my whole childhood with her. She was my best friend Mels. River, she's part Time Lord. I'm not entirely sure why, something to do with being conceived in the TARDIS. I watched her regenerate - change her face - into the woman she is now. She's a time traveler, too, so we never meet in the right order. And it just so happens that she's married to the Doctor." Sherlock was frowning, his eyes squinting in slight confusion, the cogs in his brain were turning, figuring it all out. "Yeah, I told you it was complicated," the redhead laughed.

"Remarkable," he murmured in fascination.

"That she is. Don't get any ideas, though, mister," Amy said as she made for the door. "She's my daughter."

"I wasn't talking about River," he responded, making Amy stop. "I was talking about you."