To my reviewers

Eclectic Muse: Thank you for mentioning that. Now are Amy and Rory restricted to Just NYC or can they go anywhere in the world in the timeline they're dropped in?

Little Old Anonymous Me: Thank you for filling me in on the 2012 timeline as well. I didn't see The Power Of Three. Is there fact they're in their 30's?

hp and lotr fan 4ever: Thank you for the review! It means a lot to me!

10Blue10: Sure it was the 1960's? I fail at straightening out the Doctor Who timeline mess.

Thank you for reading and reviewing, your support and advice in means a lot to me, since this is the first time I've done a DW fic. Further reviews will keep me motivated to see this story through to completion.

For the Ponds!

Queens, New York, 1939

"Omph!"

Rory hit the ground hard, tripping over his own two feet before coming to a complete stop by smacking into something hard and cold. Rory groaned, feeling the soreness in his body as his spinning head was forced to clear from the calamity that had recently been thrust upon it.

"Why does time travel have to hurt so much?" he grumbled, getting himself into a sitting position, rubbing his bruised forehead. He looked around- the cemetery. Of course.

"Why not? Jumped from a bloody skyscraper to stop those damn angels only to pop back up at the same place twice, then see your own grave and…."

It hit with a startlingly finality. The jump. The paradox. His own gravestone. The stone angel.

The Weeping Angel. He'd been sent back in time. Again. This time for good. There'd be no Doctor, no River, no Amy-

Amy! Rory thought with a icy cold dread settling in his stomach. He'd been touched by a weeping angel. Trapped forever in the past. No family or friends to help him.

No Amy. No Amy. Ever again. Trapped. Forever. No Amy. No Amy-

The fact that he'd never see wife again nearly crippled him with grief. He was stuck in New York in some time totally and completely alone to live out the rest of his days doing god knows what. He trembled when he thought about the Winter Quay.

'No! Do not think about that place! The paradox worked, it's gone now.'

The fact that he'd saved New York through his and Amy's sacrifice comforted him a tiny bit. The fact he was still sitting in a cemetery surrounded by gravestones and statues however didn't. Rory pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his jeans and getting a good look at his bearings.

"Definitely New York…. Just when in New York." Rory said with glum satisfaction. He reached into his pocket for his wallet- sue had some American cash on him, but after that, then what? He removed the billfold, quickly adding up the green bills in his head.

"Fifty dollars." Rory said before replacing the wallet in his pocket. "Well, that'll get me nothing. A cab, possibly. Cab to where?" He scratched the back of his head, the weight of his current situation nearly bringing him to his knees. He walked over to a bench, lowering himself down it heavily, lowering his head into his hands. A brittle sob escaped him.

"Amy…" Rory looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful baby blue, with fluffy white clouds one would see in some movie, pristine and white. The air held an autumn chill, making Rory think of hot cider or apple pie. He stared down at his hands, realizing they were shaking slightly.

"Amy, I wish… I wish you were here. I need you." Rory whispered, his voice threatening to crack. " I miss you. I wish…" he buried his face in his hands, taking a deep, and painful breath.

" Woaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Rory looked up startled as the air itself seemed to shimmer in the early afternoon, a blurry figure hit the ground facedown, limbs akimbo, red hair splayed over the grass before lying still. Rory had jumped at first, then practically dove off the bench, dropping to his knees beside the figure. Heart palpating in his chest, he slowly grasp her shoulder, rolling her over gently.

"Amy…" Rory whispered, looking down at his incredibly beautiful unconscious wife. Amy didn't respond, head lolling to the side. Rory panicked at first, then checked for a pulse, glad to know she was still breathing. He scooped her up gently, carrying her to a soft spot beside some trees. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, watching her until she woke up.

"Nghhh…." Amy stirred weakly after a few moments. Rory had removed his coat, draping it over her still form to keep her warm. One had lovingly caressed her face as she worked her way back to conscienceness.

"R- Rory…?" Amy whispered, finally coming too. Rory nodded slowly, a few tears slipping silently past his eyes. Amy reached up, touching his face with her own hand, a smile appearing on hers.

"I love you stupid face… I love you."

"I love you too." Rory said solemnly. Amy grunted, shifting slowly, getting herself into a sitting position of her own.

"I couldn't leave you, Rory. I couldn't spend another day, another hour, another minute in a world without you."

"Well I was plastic." Rory joked. " I wanted nearly two thousand years, I know what that's like."

Amy sat up, turned and kissed him deeply on the lips. Rory happily kissed her back, entwining his hand with hers, his once breaking heart now filled with such joy over what had happened it felt as though it would burst.

" The Doctor… River…." Amy's face was blotchy with her own tears. Rory reached up, instinctively wiping them away with his fingers.

"I know, Amy. I know." Rory said with a somber voice. " But we're together… we can make this work. We can…" he gestured to the area around them. "We can figure this out."

"Together." Amy said with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. Rory nodded, pulling her tightly against his chest, draping his coat over her. Amy snuggled against it, lulled by the beating of his heart.

"I wonder… what they're doing now. The Doctor, and River I mean… your father… he…"

"I know." Rory said, his heart seized with a pain of grief all over again. He pushed that pain down, forcing himself to focus solely on his wife. As harsh as it sounded, it was only the two of them now.

The two of them. The girl who waited. The last centurian. Until the day they died. Together forever.

"My mum and dad…they won't take this well. The Doctor will…." Amy didn't finish the rest, it was just too painful to think about. Rory stroked her hair, kissing her gently on the top of her head.

"My dad… he'll be… accepting after a while, I think. I'm just so sorry that The Doctor has… to…tell him we…."

He couldn't' say vanished.Trapped. Didn't want to think about that. Saying it aloud made it even more painful than their situation already was. Rory felt Amy trembling, and he knew it wasn't from the fall air.

"Shhh…" Rory continued to stroke her hair. What could he say? What could anyone say in this situation, honestly? He whispered soothing words to her, just trying to breathe and take it all in.

"Saved New York…" Amy said after a moment, drying her eyes with her sleeve. "Manhattan will be better without those insane statues trying to kill everyone."

"Well that's one good thing." Rory said, allowing a weak smile to grace his lips.

"We created the paradox. Least we're not trapped in the hotel." Amy offered.

"Really glad about that. I'd like to take a break from dying for a bit" Rory said with a small laugh. "It gets old, y'know?"

Amy laughed, snuggling up against him. " I know the feeling. I may not have a record like yours, but it does get boring after a while."

The two of them had a good laugh after that. A bittersweet laugh that ended with both of them in tears. Tears of happiness, tears of joy, tears of anguish, tears of regret. Tears for the living, and tears for the dead.

"So… what do we do now?" Amy mumbled after the silence between then had stretched far enough. Rory let out air that had been trapped in his lungs. He shook his head faintly.

"I don't know… I don't even know when we are actually. Could be any time really."

Amy sat up, looking around. The cemetery was peaceful in this era, the headstones looked newer than the ones from their time, although there were old ones as well. Some stones had flowers, others had nothing. The grass was neatly kept up, and it just had this feeling of serenity.

"Wait a second…."

Amy caught something out of the corner of her eye. It was only a bit of rubbish stuck to a bush, but it was something. A dingy mass that'd suddenly appealed to her. She rose to her feet slowly, and trotted over, seizing the ball of stuff, and untangling it with her hands. Rory, curiosity piqued, got to his feet and followed her, tucking his coat underneath his arm.

"Amy? What's that?"

"Newspaper stupid face." Amy said, smoothing it out with her hands and squinting at the headlines. "Trying to make out anything useful in here…"

"Roosevelt's in office." Rory said, eying some note about the New Deal program. Poland got invaded… oh dear."

"I see that." Amy said, glancing through the piece of paper, looking at it backwards and forwards. "So we're in the late 30's then. Like when we went back to the Winter Quay."

"Here, look at this." Rory stabbed his finger at a date for a sale at a local store. " September 18th, 1939."

Amy folded the paper neatly, tucking it into her pocket. Trapped during the outbreak of World War II. Like when they raced around Nazi Germany in an effort to stop their recently regenerated daughter from killing The Doctor.

"River's…" Amy said, her face scrunched with worry. Rory shook his head, feeling overwhelmed.

"I don't think that applies anymore." He said slowly. "Remember The Doctor used a teselect?"

"Yeah." Amy said, her mind bogged down with that horrible day at Lake Silencio and their efforts to stop The Silence.

"We can't… think about The Doctor, or River. Not now." Rory persuaded gently. "I mean we can of course, but we need-"

"To take care of ourselves first." Amy finished for him.

"Yeah."

Rory wrapped an arm securely around Amy's waist as they both turned to see the city in the distance. For now, their new home. Amy rested her head against his shoulder, loving just being with him.

"Together… you and me."

"Like always."

"We've gotten out of worse spots than this."

"True. Very, very true."

They smiled one another. They had their fair share of troubles ahead, but it was baby steps first, one thing at a time.

Together. The girl who waited and the last centurian.

Always.