[except Rory really wants to get off the floor: his arse and half his right leg has long since gone numb from staying in one position too long--that's another new-old thing--he's just so *tired*. And hollow. And despite the warmth of Amy's arms around him and the way she just tugged him closer, her disbelieving snort taps into old wounds which ordinarily would be closed and no bother, but Rory's the most vulnerable he's probably ever been. He suddenly feels like he's being admonished for failing to live up to her expectations again; he tangibly clams up, and starts to try and pull away from her, to try and stand]
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Yeah. [a sad, bitter laugh] Well.