It is inevitable, that after years of absolutely no change in your place in the universe, if you stay at the same point in time for a while, you will start to question the meaning of your existence.
And for Amelia, that time had come a long time ago.
It had started with the Alzheimer's. She remembered that one moment so clearly. The day at Dr. Meagan's. The grey, drab, and depressing wall colors, Anthony just trailing the patterns of the couches with his fingertips. Dr. Meagan handing her the diagnosis, which she hid under files from her work as soon as she got home. She hadn't looked at it since then.
The production up to the diagnosis had not nearly been as bad as that single document she received. He had started showing symptoms a few months ago, occasionally forgetting Anthony's name, frequently calling him Melody. Amy just figured that it was old age, or just simple and psychological complications. She wasn't surprised. Considering their past, a little confusion would be normal.
Their past. Amy frequently thought about that. Their lives had basically been the same, no different. A hybrid. Ramy. Amory. RoryandAmeliaWilliams. One big, jumbled, exhilarating mess of a life. And it was not bad. She loved sharing it with him, all of it. She knew that he did too. And Anthony. He said he always felt like he was there for every adventure they told him. All the bedtime stories, all the lessons that the Doctor taught. And the Doctor, even though he was not there with them, he would love Anthony just as much as the two of them. And he knew. They all did.
It started getting worse after that. Forgetting stories of the Doctor. He would always remember his name, granted, but forget all their adventures. The memories would pop up again slightly sometimes, and she could hear him talking about other adventures when he slept. The Doctor and River were with them in their dream world. All the adventures they never had, all the planets and stars they never saw, they imagined. And they were all beautiful. All of them.
Soon after that Amy took him to the doctor because she became more concerned. And here they were. A week after the diagnosis.
It came to her one day while washing the dishes. That her only purpose in life in that moment was waiting for Rory's death. That was the only point in her living. It wouldn't be long, he was 81. And considering the lack of medical help, it was inevitable that he would be leaving soon.
One day, about two weeks later, she found herself sitting in an armchair and just thinking. Waiting. There was nothing better to do. What was the point in eating, sleeping, or doing anything when the darkness was coming? To make Rory happy? She brushed away the thought. He already forgot her name a few times, but staying with her instead of going to the hospital had helped him keep her in his mind. Anthony, however, was out of the house, with his wife Danielle and their two kids, Melody and Brian.
She called up her doctor and asked for a prescription for sleeping medication to help with insomnia. Of course, she had no insomnia, but simply kept them by their bedside, just in case he should drift off during his sleep. She wanted to be with him as soon as possible. She felt sorry for Anthony, but he would be with his kids and his wife. She got to meet her grandchildren and they all learned tales of the Doctor. They all had wonderful and meaningful lives, and she did too.
But weeks went by, and Rory forgot more and more. He would forget to brush his teeth, his own name, wonder why there was a centurion's costume in the closet, scratch his head when someone said the word "pond". He got more and more sick, and one day Amy started to notice violent coughing. She found him huddled over the toilet, wheezing and throwing up.
She rubbed his back. "Sweetie, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
He looked at her, tears in his eyes. "Of course I'm not okay. I'm dying."
He could see the heartbreak in her eyes. Her face, fell apart and jagged in two, but she managed to keep herself together. "I'll call 911."
The ride over was terrifying. They had him strapped up to a respirator, and he was struggling to fill his lungs. She had tears in her eyes, her gray hair falling over her face, one of the ambulance men holding her and allowing her to cover his chest with tears. "Bless you," she whispered. He just wrapped his arms around her and assured her that everything would be fine, they would be at the hospital soon, they would figure out what was wrong right away. His arms reminded her of the Doctor, and she started crying harder than before.
He was sleeping when they finally put him in the hospital bed, snoring peacefully as she caressed his hand with her own. She overheard one of the nurses whisper to the other, "Doctor thinks it might be pneumonia. It's rare for the elderly to survive it. Poor woman."
She was angry at that statement. Poor woman. No, poor everyone. Poor every single man, woman, animal, and child who had every met Rory. Poor anyone. Rory was so much more important than just to affect Amy. Poor Doctor. Poor the world. The world would be a much worse place without Rory, everyone who met him always knew.
The doctor confirmed it a few hours later. It was pneumonia, wouldn't be more than a few days. Amy never left his side, until that night when the doctors told her she had to leave, that visiting hours were over.
In the cab ride home, she pondered whether to bring the pills or not. He would probably drift off in his sleep anyways, and it wouldn't hurt to have them in her purse just in case. The doctor said it was a few days, but for her it would be forever. When we talk about the dead, we rarely notice that we are talking about an actual human being. An actual living entity that affected so many, that changed lives, that said and did amazing and beautiful things. But we only say a name, there is so much more.
She looked at the pills solemnly that night and thought of what oblivion was like as she slowly drifted off.
She decided to stuff them in her purse last minute as she headed off to the hospital the next morning. If he was going to leave her, there was no way she was going to wait one day more. She couldn't live without him, she just could not bear the thought of not being able to hold him for one moment. She couldn't bear it.
That morning, by his bedside, he awoke, looked at her, and smiled softly. "It's nice to wake up to see someone so beautiful."
She chuckled slightly, and the glisteningtears started to roll down her porcelain cheeks. "Waking up next to you every morning isn't so bad either."
He chuckled and held her hand tighter. She smiled. "I got a call from Anthony this morning. He wants to come over, he will be here in a few hours with Danielle and the kids."
Rory fell silent for a moment, slightly confused. "Who's Anthony?"
And then the tears poured. She held her face in one of her hands, the other one shaking while holding Rory's. "Oh, Rory," she whispered, desperate plea for help. He looked at her solemnly, trying to figure out how he had hurt her.
They both sat there, silent, Rory contemplating what to say next, Amy sobbing and trying to contain herself. They sat there, together in oblivion, and Amy wondered if he would remember everything again once he was gone. Would he remember Melody, would he remember the Doctor? Everything wonderful they had in their previous lives?
They had these last few days, Amy said to herself. Days could last forever, couldn't they? But she knew, oh she knew that the most important moments were the least important to time. Time didn't realize, didn't want to know that those moments needed to last forever. It is true what they say, time is amazing and beautiful and so betraying at the same time. She thought they had all the time in the world, everything was theirs. She was being delusional.
Rory drifted off, and a while later Anthony and Danielle walked in, with Melody and Brian stepping behind them. Anthony looked solemn while Danielle smiled a bit, Melody and Brian just looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say.
Melody sat next to Amy, squeezing her arm gently. "How are you, grandma?"
Amy sniffed and smiled. "I'm okay." She saw Anthony from the corner, who definitely could tell that no, she was not okay, she would never be okay. Brian talked to Rory about the baseball team at school when he woke up, and she hadn't seen either of them that happy and that sad in a long time. It was these moments, the ones that are so beautiful and so tragic at the same time, that are the most miraculous and memorable. After a while, Danielle took the kids out to lunch, and Rory slept again.
Anthony sat down. "Mom."
"Yes?" Amy looked over at him, tears in her eyes.
"Dad doesn't remember me, doesn't he? Tell me the truth." He looked at her, pleading silently.
She shook her head solemnly and tilted her chin up, catching her breath. "I'm so sorry, Anthony."
They both sat there silently for a moment, sighing and thinking about how horrible time is, and how wonderful the universe is. After a while, Anthony looked up again, and asked, "What was Melody like?"
She smiled broadly and chuckled. "You asked me that so much growing up. Your older sister, she was quite a character."
"I just enjoy hearing it."
Amy smiled again, but sadly. "She was a fighter. She did not have a great childhood, Anthony. She was captured, taught to kill the Doctor at a young age. But she was a soldier, someone not afraid to fight, even with the consequences. But she was so broken inside. She did not have a good life before meeting the Doctor, no. But you can see her true spirit shine when she's with him. She's flirty, brave, confident. That's her outer layer. But a part of her deteriorates every day."
Anthony sobbed quietly, for his forgetful father, his broken older sister, his mother who was falling apart by the moment. Amy fumbled in her purse to grab him a tissue, when the pills fell out of her purse. Anthony looked down at the prescription bottle on the floor, and his expression changed from sadness to a solemn one. "You can't bear living without him, can you?"
She looked down, tears welling up again. "Yes. No, I can't."
He stood up, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I don't think the world could bear living without you, Mom."
She stood up, grabbing him and hugging him, not letting go for a few minutes, just muttering to herself while he held her. It reminded her of how she would hug the Doctor. Hugging a broken man was like feeling a new being emerge from beneath the shadows of a shattered soul. Anthony left later, assuring her that he would be back later. He came back a few hours later, when Amy called him, sobbing and muttering Rory's name over and over.
It was around seven when he woke again. He sighed and held her hand tightly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "It won't be long."
She looked to her side. She had no idea what to say. Even in his weakest moments, Rory was the bravest man she ever knew.
"I wouldn't want to die with anyone else. Not that I haven't before." She laughed, her hair bouncing up and down around her aged, but still bright face. "Oh, pretty sure you're an expert on that subject."
"I'll wait for you, you know." He tilted his head to her side. "Even if that's not how it works, even if Jesus himself has to stick his own halo in my side to push me into that gate, I'll be at the entrance waiting for you. And maybe, you will want to come as soon as possible, but I'd rather wait two thousand years for you than have you leave and not give the world a chance to love you even more."
"Rory," she whispered, holding his face and gently kissing him. "Anything. I promise."
He smiled slightly, his wrinkles creasing for the last time. "Waiting for you, maybe that won't be so bad. Amelia Pond, the girl who became Amy Williams. You chose me, over the most beautiful man in the universe, and that is what makes you so special."
She smiled. "No, Rory, you will always be the most beautiful man in the universe."
Rory smiled widely. "Until our next adventure," he whispered, and then his hand let go and Amy watched as he was swallowed up by Time, the universe taking this one, beautiful soul, and bringing it to oblivion, where he would wait for her.
Days later, the pills on the floor were swept up by the janitor, never opened nor used. They were lost in thought, no one realizing how much power was in a few little capsules.