It couldn't have taken long. One second he was on his feet and then - lizardsoldiers light dying light silence Romans Amy Doctor forgetting remembering Amy dying the Doctor the fez the Pandorica -
waiting
and waiting, Amy safe Amy alone Rory waiting wars and fires and floods and bombs and no stars and waiting and Amy Amelia Doctor River Tardis Pandorica Leadworth Registry Office Amy, remembering - and then he was coming round on the floor, gasping for breath, people just beginning to turn and look curiously at him. Not long then. It couldn't have taken long.
Two thousand years. Two thousand years.
He scrambled to his feet, muttering vaguely apologetic things to the bystanders as he rushed past. He needed to find - both of them, it didn't matter who first right now. Someone. This had to have happened to the three of them, didn't it? It couldn't just be him...
As distracted as he was, he almost ran past without seeing the Doctor at all.
"Rory Pond!" the Doctor yelled, quite forgetting himself, "What do you think you are doing, running in the halls? I never too you for a hooligan, young man." He was wagging his finger at Rory's back, knowing it was ineffectual, not caring, and knowing he had an appropriate 'absolutely terrifying teacher voice' for making his friend stop and turn back.
Which was helpful, since that stairway went right to the room with the big three-headed dog, and while Rory's Romanicity was still in question, those teeth weren't.
Rory snapped back to awareness with a weird yelping noise, nearly falling off the staircase himself. "D-Doctor, you -" Rory Pond. That's not how it works... yeah, it is. "You remember too? You remember. Oh, thank God."
"I'm not..." Rory patted himself down, vaguely, as if he was looking for his keys, then realised he wasn't sure what he was trying to achieve by this. "Plastic, no, I'm definitely human, I remember. I - I was plastic though, wasn't I? And you were a stripper. No, hang on no I know that bit already but... I didn't..."
He sat down heavily on the steps. "Doctor. I think I'm two thousand years old."
"I'm not sure if that's better or worse than you thinking I'm a stripper," the Doctor said, glancing around uncomfortably. Hopefully no one else had heard that.
Unfortunately, he was no good with existential breakdowns. He patted Rory inexpertly on the shoulder. "Hey now, you're two thousand years old because you stuck by your woman. I'm nine hundred years old because I have no attention span and a flying box. Which one is worse, I wonder?"
Rory started laughing, a little giddily. "It's like one of those jokes, isn't it? Like 'Doctor, I think I'm a pair of curtains'. 'Doctor, I think I'm a two thousand year old plastic centurion from a world with no stars.'" He shook his head. "Sorry, I've - I've just got all this stuff in my head and - Amy. We need to find her, she probably got it too."
"That - that's right. The whole universe. She remembered." He took the Doctor's hand, steadying himself as he stood up. "I think I blacked out, in the Great Hall, but - not for long. Couple of seconds. But she might be..."
"Right." He tried a comforting squeeze on Rory's hand, but worry was stronger right now. Usually, when things like this happened, the first thing he heard was Amy's indignant yell. He really missed that sound right now.
Rory nodded, following the Doctor. The rush of memory was beginning to settle down, leaving room for other things, like ...worrying about Amy, that was it at the moment. She'd be okay, of course she would, she had to be. "We can - start at Gryffindor. And maybe one of us should -" Wait there in case she comes back, he was about to say, and then had to bite his lip to stop himself laughing again (in that way that really wasn't very funny). He'd just waited two thousand years, now he wasn't sure he could handle five more minutes.
"Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find her, and you two can make up for all that time madness with married people stuff," the Doctor rambled, thinking that at this moment he would much rather be browsing closets for a fez. "And then we can all sit around and be confused over- Amy!" He stopped without warning, only a few feet away from a ginger with sopping wet hair, bare feet, and the most massive glare. He smiled, a little uneasily. "You too?"
"Soaking wet," the Doctor mumbled, stepping away from them. Awkward, unsure if he was actually wanted in this situation, but unsure how to bow out gracefully.
In fact, bowing out gracefully was the one trait he'd never really been able to cultivate. It was a frustrating lack. And they were hugging, likely about to do the kissing thing, and he'd never really been able to handle the kissing thing with them, even though he'd handled it with other people before in many other situations.
Damnation, why did they have to be different? He wished Jack were here. He knew how to handle these things. Usually with sexual jokes.
Not caring if she dripped all over him, Amy clung to Rory, pressing her forehead to his cheek. "There were no stars," she murmured. "And you... you were... and I..."
Determined to throw off her feelings of helplessness, Amy looked up at the Doctor and glared, pointing an accusatory finger. "You! You're not allowed to dance at our wedding ever again!"
It couldn't have taken long. One second he was on his feet and then - lizardsoldiers light dying light silence Romans Amy Doctor forgetting remembering Amy dying the Doctor the fez the Pandorica -
waiting
and waiting, Amy safe Amy alone Rory waiting wars and fires and floods and bombs and no stars and waiting and Amy Amelia Doctor River Tardis Pandorica Leadworth Registry Office Amy, remembering - and then he was coming round on the floor, gasping for breath, people just beginning to turn and look curiously at him. Not long then. It couldn't have taken long.
Two thousand years. Two thousand years.
He scrambled to his feet, muttering vaguely apologetic things to the bystanders as he rushed past. He needed to find - both of them, it didn't matter who first right now. Someone. This had to have happened to the three of them, didn't it? It couldn't just be him...
As distracted as he was, he almost ran past without seeing the Doctor at all.
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Which was helpful, since that stairway went right to the room with the big three-headed dog, and while Rory's Romanicity was still in question, those teeth weren't.
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He sat down heavily on the steps. "Doctor. I think I'm two thousand years old."
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Unfortunately, he was no good with existential breakdowns. He patted Rory inexpertly on the shoulder. "Hey now, you're two thousand years old because you stuck by your woman. I'm nine hundred years old because I have no attention span and a flying box. Which one is worse, I wonder?"
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"Let's see if we can't find her."
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She almost slipped on the stone floor sprinting towards him.
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In fact, bowing out gracefully was the one trait he'd never really been able to cultivate. It was a frustrating lack. And they were hugging, likely about to do the kissing thing, and he'd never really been able to handle the kissing thing with them, even though he'd handled it with other people before in many other situations.
Damnation, why did they have to be different? He wished Jack were here. He knew how to handle these things. Usually with sexual jokes.
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Determined to throw off her feelings of helplessness, Amy looked up at the Doctor and glared, pointing an accusatory finger. "You! You're not allowed to dance at our wedding ever again!"
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