I scream, looking at Doctors body lying on the grass, damp with dew. I kneel down beside him, tears streaming down my face. Turns out they aren’t all gone. “Doctor!” I scream, my voice wobbly, shrill with worry. No answer. “Doctor!” I scream louder this time, shaking him. I look around. Who could do this? Who could be cruel enough to do something like this? I put my hands on his chest, and try doing compressions. Wait. No. He’s not dead. He can’t be. Please. His arm is mangled, bleeding and scratched. “Doctor! Speak to me! Please, give me a sign. Any sign.” I scream slapping his face lightly. No sign. I howl in frustration and pain. “Please, Please! آپ can’t regenerate on me now, not after all we’ve been through. Once آپ change, آپ won’t be my raggedy Doctor anymore. You’re NOT going to regenerate. Please. It’s your arm.” I’m sobbing now, squeezing his hand. I feel a point of pressure on my hand. “Doctor?” I whisper, my eyes widening. “Amy...” He croaks, his beautiful green eyes fluttering. “Doctor!” I scream in happiness. “Wh... what happened?” He asked, trying to get up, and groans. “No, don’t get up.” I lay him back down. “You got shot. In the arm.” I tell him, helping him up this time, as he gets wobbly to his feet. “By who?” He asks, his eyes widening. “I don’t know. I didn’t see.” I tell him and we walk, his good arm around my neck, back to the Tardis. I open the Tardis doors, and sit him down on the same نشست he sat me on when Rory had died... when he kissed my forehead... I shake this memory from my head. I can’t be in love with my imaginary friend. “Do آپ need anything, Doctor?” I ask, walking up to the room with all the warm clothes. Doctor is caked with ice. It reminds me of the dream worlds, the frozen tardis... I shudder. “A سے poncho, پونچو would be nice, thanks, Pond.” He winks, and I roll my eyes. I grab the green سے poncho, پونچو and chuck it at Doctor, while I run to the swimming pool for a towel. I run up to Doctor, and sit اگلے to him. “Hey, look here.” I grab his face, and dab all the ice granules until they melt. “Thanks.” He mumbles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let anything happen to you.” I say, looking deep into his eyes. He snorts. “You? Let me? Get hurt?” He scoffs, yet still wincing at the pain in his arm, which I’ve wrapped a bandage around. “You’re so smug.” I laugh, plonking myself اگلے to him. “I think I’m good to start the Tardis.” He gets up slowly, and presses the lever down, and then comes and sits down اگلے to me. He tries to take a strand of my hair out of my face, but instead he bats my face. “Oh! Sorry! I’m not so good at this whole thing.” His face goes red. I try to look mad, but his face is too funny. “Pond?” He asks as he presses his forehead to mine. Yes, Doctor?” I answer. “I’m sorry about Rory. I know آپ loved him. He loved آپ to, مزید than anything. He was my mate, too.” He says. Tears well up in my eyes, and a traitor makes it over the lid. “Amy.” He says, and he wraps his arms around me, despite the pain. He kisses my forehead tenderly like he always did, always does. “I thought آپ were going to change. I don’t want آپ to change.” I say, burrowing into him. “You’re my raggedy Doctor.” Then he’s kissing me, his lips tenderly pressing mine. He’s never going to be the same when he regenerates. I cry until the tears are gone, leaving a wet patch on his tweed jacket.