When the Sun Sets ☼ Eleven x Reader

XIX - Oh.

With no explanation, the Doctor rushes to Rory's bedside. He points his sonic quickly towards a life support machine on the other side of the room and you watch as it sparks into life.

'What's happening?' you question, stepping back towards the window and out of the Doctor's way.

'I've cracked it, [Y/N]! All being well we should have our old boring Rory back in five minutes or so!' the Doctor announces, patting the unconscious Rory's shoulder enthusiastically, and his limp body rippled under the contact.

'What's happening?' Amy asks, finally snapping out of her little Brad Pitt-shaped fantasy.

'The Doctor's going to bring Rory back.' you reply, walking over to the other side of the room, where Amy placed a protective arm around the waist of the other Rory.

'Do we have to?' she pouts. 'Just a little while longer.'

'We don't have 'a little while', Pond. The longer it takes us to resuscitate Rory, the smaller the possibility is that we'll be able to get him back at all.'

'Would that be such a bad thing?' she teases, pulling herself to the imposter.

'Please tell me you're kidding.' you spit. 'Your husband is lying there within an inch of his life and you're more concerned with playing tonsil tennis with DiCaprio over there?'

You shocked yourself with your own bluntness. Amy stays silent, but opens her mouth to retaliate when Stapleton careers into the room, carrying a large syringe in his hand.

'Your syringe, Doctor?' he says as the Doctor reaches out both of his hands to collect it. He beckons the Second Rory over, who only disconnects from Amy's hand at the latest possible moment.

'How are you going to do this, Doctor?' you enquire.

'Well, I don't imagine you'd understand completely-' Stapleton starts.

'I imagine she would understand perfectly well, thank you Doctor Stapleton. There's no need to dumb it down for [Y/N].' the Doctor says flatly, without looking away from the life support monitor that he was periodically pointing his sonic at. The screen spluttered every so often in response to the sudden surges of energy, and the Doctor simply ducked away when necessary, unfazed.

'Of course.' Stapleton continues. 'The sample has now taken over so much of Rory that another person was created, however not fully. There's still enough Rory left in the clone to extract his... essence, in a way, and return it to the host body before either extreme takes over.'

'Either extreme? What could happen?' Amy steps forward, concern coursing through her furrowed brow.

'Well, if the original Rory is left without his... essence, as I described it, for too long, he will die. Without it, his body will shut down. And if we leave the clone for too long, the sample's influence will take over, eradicating what little we have left of the original Rory.'

'Ah. Not good then?' you say.

'Very much not good. Big bad, really. Unless you're clever. Luckily for us, I happen to be just the right amount of clever to solve our little conundrum.' the Doctor replies.

He lifts the syringe carefully up to the clone, and inserts it delicately into the base of his neck, all the while muttering apologies. As he pulled it back and the syringe filled, you could almost see the liquid being drained from the clone. His eyes began to sink backwards, and his features became gradually more prominent before he collapsed to the floor completely, disintegrating into a pile of golden dust at the side of the bed.

'Sorry,' the Doctor says quietly, his face pulling into an apologetic grimace as Amy falls to her knees by the dust, sifting it through her fingers desperately.