trans_9 | Everything I Do [Locked To Rory and Amy]

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Everything I Do [Locked To Rory and Amy]

Rory didn’t look back as they got on the ship, really, turning around might have caused him fall over. So it wasn’t as though he was being dramatic or anything, just completely exhausted and unwilling to expend the energy to look back when he already knew what he was going to see.

The way his backpack was riding kept rubbing against the raw burn that stretched across his back and the new boots had left him with nearly crippling blisters. Damned things.

He paused long enough to let the medic take Conner and whisk him off to the medbay, swaying slightly on his feet and waving off his coworkers. He wanted to make sure Sakura and the rest of the team managed to make it off the ship safely. He was exhausted, but stable. Blood and soot covered his face, cut on his forehead still oozing. Hadn’t done much more than nap over the past four days, which made it feel much longer than it had.

It hurt a bit to breathe, but he was stable. He’d manage to make it to medbay under his own power. There were a lot of people worse off and it was his job to make sure they all made it off. As much as he wanted to follow the medics with Conner back down. As much as he would give anything to just sleep at the moment.

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It hadn't taken much to convince Victoria to watch over Molly once they heard those on the mission were returning. Bit of an old-fashioned girl, maybe, but she at least understood that when Amy said she needed to go now, there was no stopping her. Maybe not the best of arrangements, especially for poor Victoria. Amy would have to be careful not to walk over her too much.

For now, Rory. Rory Rory Rory. It had only been a few days, sure, but without the ability to communicate with those on-planet, and the shape she saw some of the others in as they dragged themselves and each other back onto Stacy, Amy couldn't find him fast enough.

Finally, though, there he was, looking very much the weary warrior. Amy shoved past one of the stragglers and ran toward her fiance with worried excitement and a great deal of concern over those injuries of his. Honestly, men, they never could keep themselves out of trouble. Rory, though... At least she knew that if Rory was getting himself into trouble, it was to help someone else, even if she didn't necessarily like the idea of it.

"Amy." The word was whispered, like a halting prayer, heavy with relief. He knew, logically, that she was on the ship. Knew that she and Molly were safe and awake and here.

But he still remembered waiting, endless, painful waiting for her. Waiting for Amy. Waiting for the stars in his life to come back. He was filthy, and he should probably get cleaned up before he thought of touching anyone, but he couldn't help himself. His fingers left dirty streaks where he touched her cheek as he leaned to kiss her, desperate and adoring. She was awake. She was awake and here and safe. After that mission, after everything that had happened to him and around him, Amy being here and safe was the best thing he could ask for. "Amy." Just the sound of her name was enough.

She didn't ask what had happened, what caused him to pull her to him so desperately. She probably should have, but there was something in the feel of him that had changed significantly from the Rory a few days earlier. A sturdier quality that she couldn't quite place, maybe because it kept ducking behind his trembling arms. They could--would--talk later, once Rory had his time to rest and recover somewhat. Judging by the rest of the group, everyone would need some time to sit.

For the moment, she kissed him back, held him tight against her with both fear and relief. When she finally pulled back, she looked him straight in the eye. There it was again, that flicker of something that she couldn't quite place. It made her move to hold him again, fingers running through his hair. "You're home."

He was glad she didn't, he didn't want to answer right now. He didn't want to explain the memories flooding his brain or anything that had happened on the planet. He would, later. When he could string the words together without sobbing, when he could explain rationally what had happened. But for now, he just wanted to hold her. To touch her and make certain she was real, that she wasn't going anywhere. That she was awake.

"I'm home. I'm back." His voice cracked a little, somewhere between exhaustion and relief. "Amy...." He leaned, resting his head against her shoulder. "I'm back. I missed you so much." He'd left only a week ago, barely that. But now he remembered waiting. Remembered guarding. He tightened his arms around her, ignoring his injuries. Needing to touch her more than he needed anything else.

It was clear, just from the way he held her, that he would need that time. Amy was more than willing to give it, for once. There was a time and a place to be the harsh Pond, and right now... Right now he really didn't need it. She could be sensitive when she needed to be. So there.

Her fingers continued through his hair, cradling him close while she murmured reassurances into his ear. She wasn't going anywhere, and he needed to know that. Reasons could wait. "I missed you too. But you're here now, staying here, and if anyone tries to say different they've got another thing coming."

"Nothing could make me go." Dressed for war, sword still strapped to his side, and time lord sparkle probably still caught in his hair, he looked a mess and knew it. His body was one big ache and pain, little more than a single bruise with a few other injuries stacked on top of it. But there was one thing in the world that could make Rory Williams completely happy, and that was a word and a smile from one Ms. Amy Pond.

"Nothing will ever make me go, Amy." He leaned up, hand warm and human and flesh against her cheek, eyes red-rimed but serious as they searched hers. "I'm sorry. I couldn't stop it. I fought, but...I wasn't strong enough. It won't happen again."

Even looking a mess, sporting injuries on top of bruises, there was no doubt whatsoever in Amy's mind that anyone could make Rory go somewhere he didn't want to right now. There was that flicker of something again. She still couldn't place it, but it was there, lingering under the surface of Rory's skin, in his posture and the way his sword was carefully strapped to him now, instead of hanging from his hip with unease. A week had done a lot to Rory, but Amy couldn't tell just how much.

"I know," she shushed him, her hand sliding down to cover his and hold it close. "It's alright, I know. But you're here now, so that doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't."

He laughed, soft and humorless, sliding his other hand to cradle her face gently. "I waited for you, Miss Amelia Pond." And maybe that might mean waiting for her to realize that he was in love with her, it could easily be that. It could easily mean two thousand years her guard, too. But Rory had done a lot of waiting for Amy. The second kiss was no less tender, though somewhat less desperate, than the first.

"You know, I've asked you to marry me twice. But every time I see you, I want the chance to ask you again." He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the battle on his shoulders, but unwilling to let her go. "Nothing matters more than this, Amy. In the universe. I've checked."

A week (had it only been a week?) wasn't all that long to wait, and Amy was sure there was some kind of alternate meaning to the words, but she couldn't seem to place exactly what that meaning was. Not that it mattered, right now. The waiting was over, and she was no less happy to kiss him than he was to initiate it.

The discussion of marriage, however...

Amy couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to come up in her stomach, or the smile that crossed her face at Rory's words. She held him close while he gathered himself, and leaned her forehead against his as he finished. "What's stopping us, then?" Something was missing it didn't matter. "We've got the TARDIS, and I'm sure there's a church here somewhere..."

"No aunt Sharon. No mum and dad. We'll have a proper wedding for them once the Doctor fixes all of this." He stroked her cheek, making a soft sound. "I wonder if we could get the Doctor to do it? To marry us? I'm sure he's ordained somewhere, even if it's not a proper thing of it. And we've got Molly and Conner, they could both be invovled, though I think Molly might just drool on the rings." His stomach lurched a bit, thinking of-no, no, he wasn't going to think of that. Not now. She would be a problem he'd need to deal with.

"Jamie too. That might be nice, having our friends to be involved. And the Doctor." Mad man with a box, but he was their mad man, and he should definitely be in their wedding. "Did you know that after this, he turns into a ginger?" The words were soft, tiredly amused. "A girl, at that. I didn't realize he could even do that. Even with changing his face about."

To see Rory so animated at the idea of their wedding--their multiple weddings, by the sound of it--meant a lot more to Amy than she let on. Having Rory here, alive, on the ship had been enough, but finally moving forward, taking the step they had waited so long to take already, and that they almost weren't able to take at all, brings forth all kinds of feelings that she can't even begin to name.

"I think we could convince him," Amy grinned, shaking her hair out of her face as she thought over the plans. "And I think Molly deserves a special place, even if we have drooly rings. Conner can play best man, River can be Maid-of-Honor..." There were so many ideas that it took Rory's next statement an extra second to sink in before Amy looked back to her fiance, baffled.

"He what!?"

"I think he might like it, you know? Weddings seem like his sort of things." He smiled, reaching out to tuck an escaped strand behind her ear. She didn't know, but the thought of River in their wedding gave him a nice, warm feeling. That was proper. That was right. It should be family. Their family should be there, as complicated and convoluted as it was. "She does. We'll get someone to hold her and it will be perfect."

He laughed, unable to help himself and cut himself off when his ribs started shouting in protest. "Sorry, I've got it all out of order. He's fine, I promise. Still himself. They cloned us, on the planet, there was another him only...not quite right, he was a bit..." He tried to think of a word. "Childish, grabby and more invasive than the Doctor is normally." His head was still throbbing and trying to process all of the new information. He rather hoped he'd be able to settle everything down without a few of the Doctor's memories ending up his own. "The cloned Doctor got hit with something and regenerated, it's this thing they do, I don't quite understand it, and he turned into a ginger girl."

Amy laughed, leaning carefully into his hand. "I think any sort of celebration where dancing might be involved would be his sort of thing." The thought of Molly being there, of all of their friends and adopted, suddenly very large family made the whole thing seem...complete.

The idea of a female Doctor, though, that was plenty distracting. She didn't know how she felt about it, though. On one hand, the idea of a female Doctor running around was beyond amusing, but on the other... Amy didn't like the idea of her Doctor being gone, not one bit. Regeneration meant all kinds of complicated things. "I'll bet he enjoyed that little glimpse?" Or not, given his stance on spoilers.

"I think so too. I wonder if he can dance? Being that old, seems like something you might have picked up. But can you imagine him waltzing?" He smiled, liking the look of Amy laughing. She was amazing. He'd missed her so much. The thought of doing this with their family, loving them, knowing that everyone there was important and not cousin Joe... He stroked her cheek, unable to keep the sappy smile from his face.

"I think so. I think he was mostly jealous because she was a ginger. That's what we should get him, Amy, hair dye." He kept his hand against her cheek, trying to offer reassurance. "Considering I don't think he'll get a chance to be her for a very long time."

"Something tells me it doesn't matter if he can dance or not," Amy mused. The Doctor would dance to his heart's content, she was positive of that. Whether or not said dancing was good was another question entirely...

Her hand moved up over Rory's, and she grinned wide. "Not very sure how he'd look as a ginger. It would probably go all wrong." She wouldn't mind it too much, though, at least she hoped she wouldn't. There were so many things about her doctor that she didn't ever want to change, and they sometimes bled over into the things that maybe she could change. Rory was a good reassurance, though. Even if the Doctor changed and ran off as some ginger woman, Rory would always be a constant.

Softly, she slid her fingers between his, leaned in to kiss him again, then pulled him toward the door. "You're right. Plenty of time, and we can use it to get you patched up, okay?"

"Yeah, you're probably right. He does as he likes." I just remembered, Rose, I can dance. He shook his head, closing his eyes breifly to block out the flash of memory.

He was getting better at figuring out which were his and which belonged to the Doctor.

"Maybe we'd best start with one of those temp jobs, the ones you can rinse out. Let him be a ginger for a day, see if he liked it."

He smiled, kissing Amy was always one of the best distractions. Even as tired as he was, kissing Amy would always be worth the energy. "Right. Yeah. We should...probably look at doing that." He looked around, looking for Conner, worried about his son. "Who is watching Molly?"

The look that crossed Rory's face as he closed his eyes didn't escape Amy, but she took it more as fatigue than anything else. He was probably beyond tired, especially judging by the looks of the others walking by.

She laughed at the mention of temp dye. "He would probably complain that it didn't feel right because it wasn't real ginger."

Her gaze followed his around the room, and Amy gave him another small tug. Fretting about others or not, he needed to get some rest before he fell asleep here and was no good to anyone. "Jamie's got her, you don't have to worry," she replied. "He'll take care until I get done taking care of you." And she was going to take care of him, no matter how much he continued to drag his feet.

"Yeah, probably, knowing him. He's an odd one. Might offer though, suggest it as a costume."

He smiled at his fiance, unable to really help it. "Good. Jamie's got her? Good." He could trust the Scot to look after his little girl, nothing would happen to her under his watch. "Good." He yielded to Amy's tug, bowing to her fussing with as much grace as possible. He had missed her so much. All those years, and he had missed her. Missed the sound of her voice and her laugh and the way the hair fell around her face. "Lead on, then. I'll follow."

Always, I'll follow, I won't leave you again.

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Everything I Do [Locked To Rory and Amy]

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