Let the Rain Sing

All of my Rory fics seem to go wrong. I cannot write from his point of view, apparently.

R & R please? It's good for you!


"Let the rain sing," says the Doctor, settling next to him.

"Pardon?" asked Rory, waking from his doze. He had been resting on the ground (not about to fall asleep) of this new planet, looking forward to some peace and quiet.

"That's why I brought the two of you here, you know." The Doctor continued, ignoring Rory's question. "It's beautiful, really. When the raindrops ricochet off each other just right, it sounds just like singing."

He smiled, a tinge of sadness, a touch of something else. "Of course, Amy had to go explore right away."

The Doctor jumped up, all previous emotions forgotten. "So it seems to be me and you, Rory-boy! Any ideas?"

Rory propped himself up on his elbows, thinking. The Doctor looked down at the younger man fondly.

Who would have thought this boy, this tag-along companion, would have made such an impression on him? The Doctor found himself wishing he had chosen Rory first, maybe passed over Amy completely.

She was fiery, yes, she was spirited, but that made her like all the others.

Rory was different. He was gentle, compassionate, he looked before he lept. And it was unlike anything the Doctor had ever experienced before.

With Rory, the Doctor felt as though he could slow down, take life one moment at a time, maybe, finally, stop running.

And then Amy would come back and complain that she was bored, and the Doctor would be forced to entertain her, foray into danger yet again.

Oh yes, he definitely wished he had discovered Rory before Amy.

Maybe if he had found him first, things would be different. Night got lonely on the TARDIS, the Doctor certainly knew that. And with just Rory, just lonely vulnerable Rory who had never known Amy, maybe someone could start filling the space that was Rose.

(Maybe he could even equal Rose. That wasn't a new thought, but one that was so exciting, so enticing...)

"Doctor?" Rory was saying.

"Hmm?" He responded, distracted.

"I was thinking maybe we could just wait here for the rain to sing?" the other man suggested, looking nervous. "If that's too boring, I mean, we could..."

"Not at all! Perfect!" The Doctor reassured him, clapping his hands and flopping down next to him again. "I can't think of anything better."

The Doctor lived for these stolen moments. Amy was gone and he could pretend she was never there, it was just him and Rory.

Just him and the boy that made him feel human.

And the rain drops began to ricochet, and the Doctor and Rory lifted their faces into the drizzle, admiring the music.

Oh, how he loved these moments.

And how he hated them. Because, like everything else, they ended far, far too soon.