Chapter Text
“Goodbye.”
Amy was plunged into darkness, but she could still see the image of the Doctor’s face twisted in grief and desperation. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand to clear the image and the tears. He’d be okay; he’d have to be. She turned to take in her surroundings, her eyes slowly growing accustomed to the dark.
She looked up to see the top of the Chrysler building rise above the tops of the high buildings next to her. Still New York. She shivered as chill wind streaked up the street and penetrated her light clothing.
In her mind there was a seed of fear that had begun to sprout; it was threatening to grow out of control and paralyse her with terror so she moved faster, turning and searching frantically. Then she saw him and the fear withered to dust.
He was sitting in on a step, maybe thirty yards further up the street, head in hands. His shoulders were heaving with sobs, but he wasn’t making a sound. All her instincts were screaming at her to run to him, but all her body could muster was a weak stagger.
His head was still sunk when she finally reached him and she tried to say his name, to break the spell of despair about him, but she couldn’t make a sound. She reached a shaky hand out and dropped it on his head and he flinched in momentary shock before looking up. His face changed from surprise, to wonder, then relief and unrestrained joy. Amy sank to her knees in front of him as his arms reached out to pull her to him. She pressed her face to his neck, his familiar warmth making the pain of loss melt from her bones.
“You’re here,” he said, squeezing her tighter.
“Of course I am.” She kissed the curve of his neck. Her Rory. “Of course I am.”
After a while, they sat on the step, huddled together for warmth. “When are we?” she asked.
“It’s New Year’s eve. Any minute now it’s going to be nineteen forty.”
Amy kicked at the pavement in front of her for a bit. “Remember in Berlin, when Mels said the last time she—”
“Yup. And it’ll be thirty years. At least.”
“Rory—”
“We might not be able to actually… find her.”
“But we’ll try?”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Of course. But in the meantime, we wait.”
Amy laughed. “Well, we have plenty of practise.”
“That we do.”
There was a swell of sound from somewhere nearby, and firecrackers snapped and popped somewhere in the distance. They looked at each other, smiling. “Happy New Year, Missus.”
Amy stroked his cheek. “Happy New Year, Rory.”