This is for entertainment purposes only, and I have no rights to Doctor Who or its characters (though I would point out that the writing, as well as all side characters, is mine). Please don't sue me/kill me/erase me from time, Mr. Moffat!
The scream jolted him awake before he realized that it was just a dream. No, a memory that quickly faded, leaving him alone in the dark with only a pounding headache and one name to keep him company. Rory.
That's me right? I'm Rory, he thought. But who is that?
The scream, a woman calling his name, was all he could remember. Just "Rory!" and then the dark and the headache. He couldn't see anything, but when he moved, he was lying on something soft. Oh, God, where am I? Who am I? Such a strange and terrifying feeling, to have absolutely no idea who he was. When he looked into his memories there was nothing, only darkness and pain.
A light flared up nearby, and he quickly covered his eyes, moaning. "Blimey!" he complained.
"Sorry," someone said. "Didn't mean to blind you."
The light dimmed, and Rory lowered his hands, letting his eyes slowly adjust to the dimness. "Who's there?" he asked.
"Name's Jason," the man said. He was still just a blur to Rory as he walked closer and hung the light from a hook stuck into the ceiling. "You had a bad knock to the head, so take it easy."
Rory pushed himself up halfway and then fell back, wincing. He decided to follow Jason's advice. "Where am I?"
"Slow down," Jason said, his tone taking a more official turn now. "Now you're not the only one with questions need answering. Who are you?"
Rory tried again to call up his memories, but there was only his name, followed by a wall of pain that made him groan and grab for his head. "Rory," he finally gasped.
"I'm called Rory. That's all I remember." He slumped back on the bed. "God, I don't remember who I am!"
"All right, just calm down," Jason cautioned. "Rory, was it? You just rest and heal; we can talk more when you're head's on straight." He pushed a tin cup into his patient's hands. "This will help you sleep."
Rory drank the liquid, practically choking when it hit his tongue. "That's awful," he complained.
"Sure is," Jason said, taking the cup back. "Now, go to sleep.
Rory closed his eyes and did as he was told, letting sleep drown his fear. In the darkness behind his eyes, he didn't dream; there was nothing to dream of in his empty mind.