Supplemental: Archival Records
Marker: Journal Entries From The Diary of Mrs. Amelia Pond-Williams
Frequency: Intermittent
Entries provided courtesy of Mr. Anthony Brian Williams

27 of December, 1944

Dear Doctor,

Rory and I have had our fair share of goodbyes. This one, at least, didn't take us by surprise. I didn't want to waste my last few hours with him by sleeping and neither did he. We just lay in bed and talked for awhile and I tried to weld the feeling of his arms around me and his voice in my ear to my memory.

I don't know how I feel about raising a child in the city. He said suddenly.

What other option do we have?

There are some small neighborhoods. Here and there. In our old time they were mostly gone but Manhattan as a whole isn't quite so urban yet. We could get a little house with a garden and a yard. He kissed my temple and I smiled and snuggled closer. I want our child to have some place to romp and play and run and shout, just like we did. I want them to make friends and get into trouble.

And go to the park. And trick-or-treat. I want to give them an amazing life.

Me too. And I don't think we'll have any problems adopting either. I know you've been worrying about that.

He was right, of course. I had.

I hope you're right.

I know I'm right. I'm a veteran and a doctor. You're a successful writer.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I chuckled.

We're wealthy, we're established. They'll be throwing babies at us. He joked.

I wasn't so sure but I did take comfort from his words.

I hope you're right. But I won't feel it's real until we actually have him or her. Any preference?

None at all, love. You?

I don't think so. No, I know so. It doesn't matter to me in the slightest. But what shall we tell them, about us? About who we are? Who we were?

He sighed deeply and looked contemplative for a moment.

I've thought about that and I believe we should tell them the truth. When they're old enough to understand of course. I don't want to hide our lives from our son or daughter.

Me neither.

I won't let the Doctor become someone we whisper about or worse yet someone we don't talk about at all. I don't think we could hide it anyways. Not with Melody popping in and out via futuristic transport. Not to mention, I'm pretty proud of us. We're the subject of some pretty good stories ourselves.

He's right of course. The three of us made some pretty good stories didn't we, Doctor? You always said we're all just stories in the end.

We made love once more and when we were done I held his head against my chest, and he kissed my breasts as I stroked his hair.

I'm going to miss you, birthday boy. I'm going to miss this.

Me too. He said softly and I felt a few errant tears hit my skin. And I realized, Doctor, it was my turn to comfort him as he always did me.

Hey, Mr. Pond, it won't be long now, ok. A few more months. That's all and then we'll be back together, the way we're meant to be. Amy and Rory. We've got a wedding to plan, a lot of adoption forms to fill out and apparently a move. We have our whole lives ahead of us.

He nodded and sniffled and I kissed the crown of his head.

You just stay safe, ok. Just stay safe, try to minimize the heroics and come back to me. Please, Rory, promise me you'll come back to me.

He turned his head to look up at me, his eyes red rimmed and wet.

I promise, Amy. I will always come back to you.

I gave him my best teary smile

The sound of Melody's arrival in the other room was unmistakable, the crackle of the vortex manipulator meant our time was up.

Mum? Dad? She said called out tentatively before knocking on the door. I'm afraid it's time.

We'll be out in a second, love. Ok? He called.

Of course. I'm just going to pack some things up for you.

We heard her move away from the door and I felt the heavy weariness seep back into my husbands body.

I expected the next words he said to be sad and resigned but he surprised me.

Amy, this did me so much good.

That was my Rory, ever grateful, always teaching me lessons of gratitude.

Me too. I feel like we can do this. I feel like we can make it.

Me too.

He smiled and kissed me before rising from the bed. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge as I watched him get dressed. We couldn't clean his uniform because it wouldn't make sense to have him arrive back in France pristine and new. He put on just as it was when he stepped out of it, stiff and caked with mud.

He really did look better than when he'd first arrive. His skin wasn't as pale, the circles were gone from under his eyes. He may have even gained a little weight. I stood up and put on my dressing gown and gave him a hug.

Amy, I'm filthy. He said embracing me all the same.

Don't care.

I'll write everyday just like before. Nothing changes.

Nothing changes.

I love you, Amy. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He held me tightly, fiercely, squeezing me so hard I couldn't breathe and I didn't care. I didn't need to breathe in Rory's arms.

The rest happened pretty quickly. We left the bedroom, greeted Melody and said our last goodbye.

I'll write to you as soon as I get back. I mean in a way I already have. I'm going back on the 25th, so everything I will write you I already have. It's in the bedside drawer or it will be. He concluded with a teary chuckle. Life of a married time travelling couple, eh?

Wouldn't trade it for the world.

He kissed me once more and then Melody took his hand.

I will see you on Tuesday, Amy.

Happy Birthday, Rory. See you on Tuesday.

And then they were gone.

It's quite a few hours later now. He made it back safely, we've already been writing to each other. He's back in the fray and I've had myself a good long cry, laying in the bed sheets that still smell of him, of us together.

Just a few more days Doctor and it'll be 1945. A brand new year. Another chance, the end of the war on the horizon and the start of a quiet life for the Pond-Williams'.

Then again, knowing us, probably not too quiet.

We love you Doctor. Happy New Year.

Love across the stars,

Your Amy

Just watched The Bells of St John. Pretty exciting stuff, eh? Did you see the book Summer Falls by Amelia Williams with the plucky girl on the cover and two boys bringing up the rear, one blonde and one brunette? Hmm, I wonder who they represent? And what do you know, the Doctor was a monk too in 1207. There goes Moffat, stealing my ideas! *shakes fist in general direction of the UK* ;) I may just have to write that in. We'll see. Ok, hope you enjoyed this, They'll probably be a mini-jump ahead of a few months in the next chapter.