Rory had never considered himself especially daring or brave, he’d always been more clown material than hero material. Some days he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here, of all places, travelling through time and space with a madman in a blue box, but then he’d look at Amy, vibrant and vivacious, and it all made sense.
His Amy. He’d loved her since they were kids, had never doubted that he would always be hers, if she wanted him. He was here because this was where she was; he would go anywhere and dare anything, just to see her smile.