AN: Just an old fanfic I decided to share. A bit AU since it was written before Amy and Rory's actual depart.

"Just us again, eh old girl?" He tapped the console of the TARDIS affectionately, trying to keep a lightness about him. In the end, it had been their choice; he had found the two Ponds sitting in the control room, looking rather uncomfortable. Of course, he had been fine with them going off on their own; they all left sometime and he supposed he ought to learn not to fight it.

"R- Rory, what are you doing?" She was leaning against the console (though the Doctor had told against doing that several times over), when she was caught temporarily blinded by a light coming from Rory's direction."Oh, put the camera away," she rolled her eyes.

Amy shifted in her seat; it had all become too much. After all the years she had waited, after a childhood of dressing her soon to be husband as the Doctor, after all that, she was about to leave him for good. She and Rory had decided it together; she had lost him too many times to do so again and their adventures had taken a toll on him long ago, though she hated to admit it.

She rummaged around in her bag, not wanting to be the first to look the Doctor in the eye when he came in. Her hand glided over an object she didn't remember putting there; pulling it out, she saw it was a photo from God knows when (it was much harder to keep track of time when you're always jumping backward and forward through it). A small smile creeped across her face, remembering the day it was taken. Rory had been much more light-hearted back then. To be honest, she missed that in him.

She didn't hear the Doctor come in, nor did she hear Rory get up to give him the news of their decision. An idea flickered across her mind. Pulling out a black pen from her bag, she scrawled a message on the worn photo before placing it on the console.

Meeting the Doctor and Rory near the door of the TARDIS, she took one last glance at the room around her. She never wanted to forget it, or the Doctor for that matter, and she hoped he would never let her be forgotten.

Going to turn one of the more wobbly levers to set off once again, he found something in his way.

There, sitting on his console, was a faded version of Amy he hadn't seen in a rather long time. She leaned against the TARDIS console, laughing at some now forgotten joke. Back when she was still more innocent and happy than now, back before so much had gone wrong, he could see that her expression held far less burden then.

But more than that, it was what was written in Amy's handwriting on the old photo which caught his attention.

Don't forget me, Doctor.

Love, Amy.

"Oh, Amy," he sighed. "My little Amelia Pond. How could I ever forget you?" He sat it back on the console, where it stayed for a very, very long time.