Rory didn't know what to think. They had just been having a picnic — just a picnic, everything was fine — when it happened.
It never happened like this, the madman wasn't supposed to die. He would always keep going, keep traveling through the universe. Or so Amy thought.
Rory knew better. He was a nurse, and a man who lived to help others, and he knew — everything has its time, and everything dies.
The Doctor seemed to know too. Because he didn't look sad — he looked prepared. The only sadness he felt was for his friends.
“I'm sorry...” he had gasped to them. Fitting, sighed Rory, for he never apologised.
Rory appreciated the Doctor a bit more for that. He had never known him, never really known him, and had never wanted to. He just wanted to settle down with the woman he loved. But that day, he felt a pang of remorse. What if he had met the Doctor? Properly?
Then Rory looked up and knew it was over. He'd always been a practical man. He looked at Amy weeping, knew nothing could change the truth, knew he couldn't stop her from crying. But he could give the Doctor a proper death.
Fire burned at the edge of the lake. Rory sighed. He didn't know what would happen next. But he knew Amy would never stop crying. With a heavy heart, he turned away.
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