Doctor and Rory stand there for a while, staring into each other’s eyes. Rory’s face is a mixture of anger, hate, love, thanks, friendship, but mostly, its pure agony. “Rory.” I croak, feeling nauseous. “Hello, Amy.” He says in that loving voice I remember. He walks over to me hesitantly towards me, and wraps his arms around me. I breathe in his deep, woodsy, leathery scent. “How... what... what happened to you?” He whispers into my hair. I look at Doctor. His eyes are looking away, his jaw tight, and his eyes are filled with hate. Hate of himself. “I... I got shot. par a Dalek...”...
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