- thirty-seventh year waiting -

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[dictated]

[alone on a bed in the medbay on Eleven's TARDIS, Rory Williams wakes up from a week-long sleep. He feels extremely disoriented and doesn't really remember collapsing in the castle lobby--there's so many new memories to process this time around, two thousand years' worth and then some--and he's got a pounding headache. But both of these are minor concerns when, upon regaining consciousness, the first thing he realizes is that he has a heartbeat. A pulse. And he's breathing. Not because he can, but because he has to. Which can only mean one thing:

He's gone home. And he's come back human again.

The realization hits him like a sucker punch to the chest and he makes to bolt upright into a sit, grabbing frantically at his right hand to check for the hinge--except his head throbs like it's been hit with a sledgehammer and a wave of nausea crashes over him. He sinks back onto his bed with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing in pain. Okay, maybe the headache's not such a minor concern after all.

Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he croaks out:]

Amy? ... Doctor? Wha ...?

((open like an open thing! Rory's back from a trip home and has been canon-bumped up through Series 6, Episode 7: A Good Man Goes To War. He's no longer an Auton (buh-bye plasticness and handy gun in his hand!) and brings with him a metric fuckton of new emotional baggage courtesy of the Doctor and River Song))

Comments

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[it's a relief to Amy, too, being snuggled up against him; it's a tenet of normalcy that she's never resented (although she *has* taken it for granted) and one that she's missed this past week. When Rory turns his face towards hers, she lifts a hand to caress his cheek--the thought that he'll have to start shaving again flits briefly through her head--and then leans in to kiss him as gently as she knows how]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[oh god--he doesn't mean to, he really, really doesn't--but the tenderness of her kiss succeeds in choking him up again. He doesn't cry like he did before, but tears spring unshed to his eyes and a massive knot lodges itself in his throat, making his face pinch unhappily as he kisses back.

He's remembering the last kiss they'd shared, scared and worried but hopeful, hidden out of sight from the Monks. Amy had looked at him like she couldn't bear to lose him, and he'd kissed her hand in reassurance, and then Melody, and he'd left. His last sight of his wife and daughter together--his *family*. The family he'd thrown open that door inside his head for, in order to protect them.

And he'd failed.

He breathes out a stuttered breath against her lips before pressing closer, desperately. The kiss remains gentle but he *needs* her, closer, touching him (forgiving him), reminding him that she's real and still with him. She's all he has left, now]

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[his response isn't exactly what Amy had expected, or thought he would do; she'd only hoped to maybe soothe him a little, reassure him that she still loves him and doesn't blame him for anything... but it's like he needs more reassurance than this. And she isn't entirely sure how to give it. Oh, she knows a few things she *could* do, but she also feels they would be *so* beyond inappropriate right now, and coming from her, that probably says something. This may be the first instance ever in which Amy *doesn't* think a good shag could go a long way towards fixing things.

So she keeps kissing him, but tries to keep it a thing of reassurance and love rather than desire, her hand still light over his cheek, gently sliding her good foot over one of his]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[Rory is content to let the kiss remain exactly what it is--a comfort and a reassurance--and it does do both of those things. Even if it doesn't cheer him up (because there isn't a magic fix-it here), it goes a long way toward soothing his shattered nerves for the moment, putting him more at ease and chipping away at some of the irrational insecurities that have been trying to resurface ever since he woke up.

Besides, Rory can't remember the last time they simply just *kissed* for awhile.

He flexes his foot beneath hers; then shifts and rolls so he's on his side facing her--much more comfortable--and rests his hand on the curve of her waist. Amy's hand on his cheek is soft and warm and comforting, and he's more than glad to let the insistent yet gentle press of her lips on his lull him into a state of quiet hollowness that's just a little bit less numb than it was when she began]

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[once Amy cottons on to just what Rory seems to need from her, she relaxes a little--this, she can do, she *wants* to do--and mentally drifts off into sensation for a while: just kissing him, taking what little pleasure she's able to feel at the moment from it, hoping it's not her imagination that he's relaxing a little too.

A tiny part of her is surprised that he hasn't gone hard, considering his extreme reactions to other stimuli since waking up. Another tiny part is marveling at how his skin is managing to feel so different now, despite his plastic skin not having been too terribly distant from the real thing. Yet another is thinking she could probably do this for hours and not get tired of it (slow, unhurried kissing is really not her style, but it's still quite nice every once in a while).

But mostly, she feels just about as shattered as he does, even if it's in slightly different ways, and it's a comfort to her that he's letting her do this. Hopefully, it means he won't push her away. Much.

She's got absolutely no idea how much time has passed before she pulls back just enough to be able to speak, and murmurs]

Any better?

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[Rory sort of--sighs quietly in something approaching disappointment when Amy pulls away, but he doesn't chase after her. Instead he keeps his eyes closed and lightly bumps the tip of his nose against hers]

... A little. Yeah.

[and it's the truth. He no longer feels like he's a threat to completely fall apart any second, he's not crying, and the awful aching pain in his chest has receded a fair bit. He attempts another smile for her; this time his mouth quirks at one corner]

Thanks.

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[she decides a little stab at lightness might not go amiss, and makes a small 'pfft' noise]

Like you have to thank me for snogging you.

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[it works too. Rory's eyes shut and his mouth twists in something that wants very much to be a smile, but can't quite make it there. After a pause he opens his eyes back up and moves the hand at her waist up to brush his fingertips over her cheek, mirroring hers]

I might.

[it's equal parts a pitiful attempt at return cheek, and the misguided belief that he really might, because of those damn insecurities. Because, back when they were young and new to this kind of closeness, he sort of felt like he really did]

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[Amy at least picks up on the semi-successful attempt at cheek, and gives him a very small smile in return, sliding her hand along his cheekbone to sift her fingertips into his hair]

I'm... here, okay? We can do this.

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[and he shuts his eyes again on instinct, soaking up that touch like it's the only thing holding him together. He crooks the arm beneath her to bend up behind her head in an awkward sort of embrace, and shifts closer to her until their knees are bumping and her breasts are just whispering against his chest.

(Amy might think he hasn't gone hard, but he *has*, a little; it's an undeniable effect of being close to a beautiful, naked woman; one that he loves, who loves him in return. But he's not actively choosing to focus on it and chase it. Like Amy, it feels grossly inappropriate to him at the moment and anyway, beginning might be awkward]

I--know you are. Amy ...

[he's thinking of that last kiss again, the last sight of his family]

Amy ...

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[she tilts her head very slightly in a silent question]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[he doesn't really know what he's getting at, or what he wants to say; he can't begin to articulate everything churning in his heart. He just knows that he needs Amy close like she is, reminding him that she's alive and he still has her, and at least here in Paradisa he's not living the nightmare he is back home.

A small noise, almost a whimper, sounds in his throat, and Rory's hand slides around to the back of her neck, pulling her forward as he presses in, and pushes his face up against hers as he tangles their legs together.

It's needy and weak and so unmanly and he'll hate himself for it later and worry that Amy finds it unattractive to the extreme, but Rory is so tired and worn emotionally that he *needs* this. And it's not even necessarily a sexual thing either. He just needs *her*]

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[Amy won't blame him if he doesn't remember, but the thing is... this need that he has, she can sympathize with it, too. She'd felt much the same way immediately after the Dream Lord, both here and back home--having a sort of ridiculous need to be very close to him at all times, not wanting to let him out of her sight, out of an equally ridiculous fear that they were wrong (*she* was wrong) and they're still in a dream, and in the real world, Rory was dead.

She'd managed to shrug that neediness off fairly quickly, on the outside at least, and jump headlong into the next adventure. But it had lingered in her gut for weeks.

So she understands, or at least she hopes she does. The hand that's trapped between them is laid flat against his chest now, and she applies a little pressure for a brief moment in an awkward gesture of 'it's okay'; she keeps the fingertips of her other hand in his hair, her palm on his cheek, and lets him hold her as tightly as he needs to]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

I love you ...

[his own fingertips push through the hair at the nape of her neck, his face twisting in sorrow again as he slides his nose alongside hers, tilts his face into her hand, and generally acts like the needy wreck he is]

I--I missed you.

[faintly, he knows he sounds like a broken record and he knows 'I missed you' sounds ridiculous because technically they were never separated at all--here--and he was the one unconscious so he couldn't possibly miss anything. But Amy will know what he means.

All those weeks. Alone. Planning, searching, worrying.

Rory shifts his body even closer, seeking to press himself flush against her. Amy's skin is soft and smooth and warm and--he doesn't CARE, here, that she's Flesh--it feels so good molded to his, like some sort of perfect body pillow, and again he has the crazy thought that Amy's nearness and touch are the only things keeping him from a truly ugly, truly SERIOUS breakdown]

I thought about you every second you were gone...

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

I know you did.

[she does know, and she understands what he means. And--well, there goes her surprise that Rory hasn't gone hard at all, but she understands that too]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[he's a little hard. Just a bit. Semi-hard, maybe. It's an unavoidable physical reaction over being pressed naked up against her, but it's not one he's pursuing--or even thinking about, consciously. Somewhere in the back of his mind he's registering faint twinges of pleasure, but it hasn't managed to crawl to the forefront of his thoughts as a way to numb the pain yet. It might never not, tonight or tomorrow or the next.

He doesn't speak again; instead he just sighs a little miserably and tucks his face against hers, trying to think of anything except Melody.

He ends up thinking about the Pandorica and two thousand years. He's lived it now. All those memories he drew on to become the Centurion again--

--no, no, not thinking about the Centurion, because his last battle--

--he remembers seeing Amy for the first time in two millenia, how his phantom heart had stopped at the sight of her red hair. She looked exactly the same as he remembered. Beautiful and fiery and ALIVE.

He remembers looking into Amy's eyes as they said their vows at the altar in St. John's in Leadworth.

They're happy memories. He tries to cling to them.

Outwardly, he shifts a little against Amy, sliding his foot between hers, and sighs again. Having her this close has quieted him down, at least]

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[Amy doesn't know what else to do besides hold him, and let him say whatever it is he feels like he needs to say, anything, and confirm the good things and refute the bad things. After he goes silent again, she moves her hand out of his hair to drape her arm around his waist, and lets her fingers take up an aimless, drifting sort of caress over the small of his back.

Her own thoughts are similarly drifting, hoping to light on a way to magically make everything better. Of course they won't, but it's a nice thought]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[Rory's mind continues to drift, determinedly shying away from thoughts of either the Centurion or Demon's Run. The soft, light brush of Amy's fingers on his back lulls him into a muzzy daze, and before he realizes it his breathing has evened out, his eyes have shut ... and he's fast asleep.

It's the first time he's slept in Paradisa in over a year. After the heartbreak and the devastation and the sobbing, he's just too exhausted to stay awake]

[too-fairytale.livejournal.com]

[she's nearly dozing herself before it dawns on her that Rory actually has, in fact, fallen asleep. She blinks her eyes open and regards what she can see of him--tucked together as their faces are--for a moment before deciding not to disturb him by getting up and turning off the lights. Then she closes her eyes again and very slowly, very quietly sighs.

It takes a little while for her to be able to drift off again, but at least this time, she thinks, it's not for want of him next to her, or worry for how and what he'll be like when he wakes up. (It's much worse, in some ways, but at least she has him back now.)

They can get through this. She knows they can. As long as they have each other]

[nurse-boy.livejournal.com]

[surprisingly, Rory's sleep is dreamless--or if he does dream, he won't remember them when he wakes. So great is his mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion that as soon as he fell asleep he dropped into the deep, deep kind that nothing less than a nuclear bomb going off could wake.

Somewhere in the midst of their rest, Rory rolls away from Amy onto his back, one arm tossed wide and the other resting across his stomach. And he's quietly snoring. That's another thing that hasn't happened since he turned plastic, because even though he could replicate breathing, he never snored]