Lightning in a bottle (closed with never-fear-thedark)
He’d never forget that day as long as he lived. They’d jumped, they’d “died” on that Manhattan sidewalk so that the paradox would be soured. But instead of horrible pain, he and Amy had found themselves sitting up in Manhattan graveyard, very much alive. Overjoyed didn’t even begin to describe it, they’d made it out of danger by the skin of their teeth and all was well.
He’d gone to idly look over tombstones while the Doctor and River tended to the TARDIS. Then his beloved Amy had done what, in the end, she had to do. She’d seen the Angel begin to move (well out of Rory’s sight) and she launched her entire six foot frame into a run, tackling him aside - and then vanishing, taken by the Angel God alone knew where. Reality collapsed around as he begged the Doctor to please get her back, work his Time Lord magic and get her back.
But no, he couldn’t, not without condemning the entire eastern seaboard of the United States to a temporal nightmare if he even tried. Amy had given herself to the Angel to save him, and when they saw her name fill itself in on that self same tombstone..
Now, what felt like an eternity later, he sat on a park bench in London, staring at absolutely nothing. Life was there to be gotten through, existed in, and he had no interest in it beyond healing the sick. Most would argue that was a noble thing to dedicate your life to, but he did so to avoid the realities of a world without Amy Pond in it. She’d live a long, presumably good life, but she’d had to do it without him and it broke him.
But then came a day that changed so very much. He was in his usual spot, doing nothing much at all. But then he heard some local toughs shouting out abusively and laughing like the drunks they were. That alone was enough to get his attention, but then he heard a tearful, trembling female voice begging to be left alone.
Standing, he felt old feeling stir inside as he approached them, demanding they bugger off and leave the young woman be. He batted aside one punch without effort, knocked out another attacker with a punch and back elbowed another into running for his life.
The Last Centurion was still to that day no man to trifle with. Turning to the young woman, he was now all tenderness and concern. “Are you okay, miss? My name’s Rory. Did they hurt you?”
