He can still hear Rory in his mind; he is screaming and begging to be let out. The dying yell drowns his ears and chokes him until he thinks he might die as well. He can feel Rory pounding out a death march in his skull, slow, steady and never ending. That image is etched onto the backs of his eyelids so that he can never forget, even when he tries to sleep. He knows it's only fair because it was his fault Rory died, always the Doctor's fault. He runs across the universe leaving only misery in his path.

Sometimes he tries to make sense of the voice in his head; he tries to make sense of what Rory is asking for, what he's begging for. Rory wants Amy back, Rory wants his Amy back. But Amy left weeks ago; the Doctor couldn't bear to watch her live so happily and without grief. It wasn't right. He knew how to comfort a mourner, how could he comfort someone who didn't even know they should be crying? He couldn't do it and so he sent Amy home. He stopped in the garden and told her to leave, please was added almost desperately.

She didn't understand; she didn't want to go. He sat with her for hours as she cried messily into his jacket. He brushed the hair from her face and gave her his handkerchief, he would have stayed like that for hours longer; he loved her, how could she not see that? But then Rory's voice cut through his mind, "Just leave her." He pulled her up from the chair and took her towards the door; she cried and hit his arm, pleading with him. He shouted at her, in the end. He shouted at her and her face went blank. She left him and went back to her, now lonely, life in Leadworth. He had destroyed her life and he had to try and fix it.

And now there is the man writhing in agony at his feet, blood seeping from his wounds. The Doctor nudges him with his boot and another scream echoes through the alley they are hidden in. The Doctor has to do it; he has to make him understand why he's doing this. He crouched suddenly beside the man and pressed their foreheads together, he had to show him Rory, this is the man who will die of your actions. If the man was allowed to live, he would create a project that planned to drill through the crust of the earth. His crew would be attacked by a tribe of Silurians. Rory would be murdered in cold blood and then sucked into a crack in time and space; he would never have existed at all. This man had to understand why he was to die. The Doctor grit his teeth and listened to what the man had to say, please, no, no, no, please, please! He was begging, begging for his pitiful life that would destroy his friend. He couldn't live, not if Rory were to have any chance of coming back. He raised the disintegrator ray in his right hand...

When he gets back to the TARDIS and discovers that it hasn't worked, he will scream and scream and scream. There is a dead man's blood on his face and another man's pleas in his mind. It isn't fair, he is trying to fix it; he has to make it right. He will not sleep, he only screams. He'll try again; he has to make things better. He punches in another set of co-ordinates.

And the universe cracks, just slightly.