[He reaches his hand up and across his forehead, staring at the screen, wide eyed. He swallows and steps away to the back of the room before back again, a hard face, anger at himself.]
[It has been such a long time since he's seen him. Such a long time since he'd seen either of them. But now, so far away but hardly at all, it was time for one last visit. So that was why he found himself tapping gently on a door, and waiting.]
[It takes more than a minute. Maybe more along the lines of two minutes, as Rory tries his best to get out of his chair and to the door. He had sent the nurse home, told her to spend the day with her family, he could take care of himself. He's an old man now, but he can manage. Once he does get to the door, cane--he should really get a walker at this point, he realizes--in hand, he mutters something about getting it as he opens the door.
[He'd wondered whether he should take chocolates or flowers. Do people do that? He supposes there are always flowers after, which if he thinks about it seems a little pointless. People can hardly enjoy flowers when they're gone. So maybe he should take him flowers? So that's why he does, a small bouquet of purple looking daisies from a far off land.
He opens his mouth to speak, but stops. There he is, Rory Williams. He looks so different now, and so for a moment he simply stares at him.]
Just on time, actually. [He speaks quietly before adding, a little awkwardly.]
You always say that. [To Rory, the Doctor is late. Amy died a month ago, peacefully in her sleep, after a thankfully short struggle. The Doctor should have been there then, but neither of them blamed him. It had been too long for blame.]
Come in, come in. [He gets out of the way of the door to let the Doctor through, his fingers gripping tightly to his cane.] Let's put them in some water.
I always say a lot of things. [The Doctor steps into the room, his eyes scanning over Rory to take him in; the way his knuckles wrap around his cane as it shakes a little in his hand. He turns his head and looks around the room.]
Nice place you've got.
Tea! Everyone likes tea. Let me make some tea. I'm sure I can do that. You sit down. Tea and water happens to be one of my specialities.
[Rory nods, giving the Doctor a skeptical look as he leans against his cane, watching him do what he does instead of going to sit back down right away.] Just don't burn down my house, I'm fond of it the way it is.
[He does then slowly make his way back to his chair, pausing to grab photographs off of the mantle as he does. Once he does plop back down onto his chair, he releases a raspy, relieved sigh at the feeling of sitting, eyes momentarily closed as he regains his balance. He's seen the elderly behave the same way many a time before. He's surprised he's lasted this long.]
[The Doctor heads over to the kitchenette and stares at it as though it's an alien device he needs to work out. He opens about six cupboards and closes them before he finds a vase for the flowers, putting them in and leaving the stems a little too long before commencing with tea making duties, creating a cup of tea that's (if he does say so himself) pretty spectacular. Holding the mug delicately, he takes it over to Rory and offers it out to him.]
Milky. No sugar. [He remembers from Rory's time on board.]
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[He mumbles] How hideous.
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We don't.
I'm sorry, Amy. We don't. Not this time.
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[He closes his eyes and presses his screwdriver to his forehead before turning to her.]
I'm sorry, Amy. I'm sorry, I've failed you. I've failed you and you're here because of me. This has all been because of me
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Doctor, why are you saying that? We always win, we can stop this!
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[It takes more than a minute. Maybe more along the lines of two minutes, as Rory tries his best to get out of his chair and to the door. He had sent the nurse home, told her to spend the day with her family, he could take care of himself. He's an old man now, but he can manage. Once he does get to the door, cane--he should really get a walker at this point, he realizes--in hand, he mutters something about getting it as he opens the door.
When he does, he stares for a moment.]
You're late, again.
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He opens his mouth to speak, but stops. There he is, Rory Williams. He looks so different now, and so for a moment he simply stares at him.]
Just on time, actually. [He speaks quietly before adding, a little awkwardly.]
I brought you flowers.
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Come in, come in. [He gets out of the way of the door to let the Doctor through, his fingers gripping tightly to his cane.] Let's put them in some water.
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Nice place you've got.
Tea! Everyone likes tea. Let me make some tea. I'm sure I can do that. You sit down. Tea and water happens to be one of my specialities.
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[He does then slowly make his way back to his chair, pausing to grab photographs off of the mantle as he does. Once he does plop back down onto his chair, he releases a raspy, relieved sigh at the feeling of sitting, eyes momentarily closed as he regains his balance. He's seen the elderly behave the same way many a time before. He's surprised he's lasted this long.]
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Milky. No sugar. [He remembers from Rory's time on board.]
[He gestures to the chair beside Rory] May I?
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