It's about time I wrote a Doctor Who fic. My friends have been trying to get me into this show for years, and only this summer did they succeed. Now I'm caught up and completely addicted, and here at last I have something to show for it, even if it's only a tiny one-shot. Enjoy!
He had killed her. His fiancée, the girl of his dreams—who had turned out not to be a dream after all—had come back into his life, and he had killed her. He didn't know if it was better or worse that she had remembered him first. Perhaps it would have been better if the gun inside his hand had gone off while he was just another Roman. Then her last moments wouldn't have had to include thoughts of being shot by her fiancé. But the reality was that she had remembered, and he had killed her as Rory Williams from Leadworth.
And then, the Doctor had quite literally popped out of nowhere with a fez and a mop and an utterly harebrained plan to save her. Even though the Time Lord had looked madder than ever at the time, Rory hadn't been able to help feeling desperately hopeful that the plan would work and that what he had done might just be undone.
He could have taken the shortcut with the Doctor and leapt forward to a time when Amy would emerge from her impenetrable tomb alive and whole, but he hadn't. He'd remained behind to go the long way instead. He had killed her; he had no right to skip ahead. He would spend two thousand years protecting her—by all the gods he knew of, he would protect her, and heaven help whoever or whatever dared to thwart him. It would be his penance. His love and his hope would keep him sane. And perhaps then, once all that time had passed, he could again become the gawky nurse who had been head over heels for his best friend since they were children. Perhaps then she would still have him.
Perhaps then she would forgive him.