It was Amelia Pond's 85th birthday. Time had stolen the fire from her hair, leaving behind only the ashy gray of old age, but her spirit was indomitable as ever. Instead of celebrating this milestone in a long life, Amy was spending the day in a graveyard.

"It's perfect!" she said to her husband.

"It's… something," Rory responded. The couple stood staring at the newly erected gravestone. "I don't understand why we have to have it put up now when we're not even dead."

"It's my grave, I might as well enjoy it while I can."

"Grave" was an understatement. The granite slab stood almost as tall as the elderly couple and was flanked on either side by an angel with its face hidden in its hands.

"I don't see why you wanted the angels included in the design," said Rory. "Considering what they've put us through."

"The bastards stole my time," Amy said. "The least they can do is stand by my grave for all eternity and weep for me."

"It just seems like it would be bad luck or something, that's all," he said.

"Nonsense," she retorted. She reached out and lovingly touched the engraving at the top of the stone. Her fingers traced the familiar silhouette of the TARDIS. "We'll be fine. We've got the Doctor to watch over us."

Rory took his wife's hand in his and kissed it tenderly. He was about to speak, but his words were interrupted by a sudden fit of coughing from Amy. He led her to a nearby bench where the two sat so she could catch her breath.

It pained Rory to see the woman he loved so ill. Old age had not been kind to Amy. Walking was difficult and breath did no come as easily to her as it once had. Still, she was a fighter. Rory didn't doubt for a moment that she would outlive him simply for the sake of competition. But now, amongst the somber monuments of lives lived and lost, she seemed small and frail.

After a long and pensive silence, Amy spoke. "I still miss them," she said. "I miss my Melody and I miss my Raggedy Man. It's been fifty-some years and I still look up at the stars every night, hoping to see them flying by."

Mr. Williams put an arm around his wife and pulled her closer. "It's all right my love," he said. "There's no shame in having hope. You can't just have your life ripped away from you and expect the pain to fade."

"I know, but sensible words don't make it any easier to bear. That man showed me the universe, Rory. He took me to the farthest reaches of space and time. He was there for every major moment of my youth. He was the major moments."

"That he was. He filled our lives with wonder and excitement, I'll give him that. But we paid for those adventures by giving up the world we knew. I guess everything has its price."

"We weren't the first to pay it," said Amy. "He traveled with others before us. Others who suffered much more than we have."

"I imagine so," Rory said.

"He never spoke of them, but you could tell. When he'd get that sad, faraway look of his, I always knew he was remembering."

"Considering how forward he always was with everyone, he managed to remain a very mysterious man."

"Aye," said Mrs. Williams. "I think that's why he has two hearts; one he wears on his sleeve and the other he keeps secret. He hides it away where he thinks no one can reach and no one can break it. That's where he keeps the memories of his past. But I knew it was there. I could hear the stories of those he's loved and lost being told in every sad little beat."

Another silence followed before Amy spoke again. "It's a good headstone, isn't it Rory?" she asked.

"That it is," said her husband. "I especially love the epitaph: 'Beloved Parents, Beloved Companions, Always the Waiting.' It's fitting."

"Yes. I thought so. I just wanted him to have a place to come to and something to remind him of us, so he'll never forget."

"He won't forget," said Rory. "He'll keep our memory in his secret heart, where not even the Angels can steal us away. But I'm not sure he'll be able to find the grave. As far as I know, he still thinks my name is Mr. Pond."

Later that night, Mr. and Mrs. Williams went home and retired to their beds. In the small hours of the morning, when the world was still wrapped in night's black shroud, Amy was awoken by a chill wind. To her surprise, she sat up to find that the window was ajar, though she knew she hadn't opened it. When she heard the sound of a muffled sob, she turned to see a man sitting by her bed.

"Boy," she said with a smile, "why are you crying?"

The Doctor wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. "You shouldn't call me boy," he said. "I'm older than you."

"You shouldn't speak to me in such a manner," said Amy with sly smirk and the glint of the devil in her eyes. "I'm you're mother in law after all. And I don't care how many centuries you've lived or how far you've traveled. These eyes can't see much these days, but they can see right through you. You never grew up. You're still the same little boy who stole a magic blue box and flew off into the stars."

The tears were still coming, but the Doctor made no effort to wipe them away. Instead, he took his dear friend's hand, so old now and so wrinkled, and placed it upon his chest.

"I'm sorry, Amelia Pond. I'm so very, very sorry."

"What's this then?" she said. "Don't carry on so Doctor. I knew from the beginning our story wasn't meant for a happy ending. That's just not how it works when you run off with a man who fell out of the sky and into your back garden."

The Doctor didn't laugh. He just continued to weep softly. So Amy took his hand in hers and stroked it gently.

"I chose to step into that wonderful machine of yours. From the very beginning I have made my own decisions and have accepted the consequences. And if I could go back and choose it again, I would do the same. But I am old now, Doctor. I am ever so much more than twenty. And I've forgotten how to fly."

"I can teach you again."

"No, my Raggedy Man. It will take more than happy thoughts and pixie dust to lift these tired old bones."

"Oh Amy!" cried the Doctor, finally giving in to full, wrenching sobs. She wrapped her arms around him then and held him close.

"Don't cry for me, old friend. I have lived a full and happy life. I've been blessed to live it beside the man I love. We humans must grow old and die, for it's in our nature just as surely as it is in you to travel the skies. We would have parted ways eventually, you and I. You would be off on all sorts of wonderful adventures and forget all about me. It just happened sooner than you expected, that's all. But I am grateful to you; truly, I am. You've given me a head full of fantastic memories to relive in my dotage. Because I knew I could carry you always in my heart, that is what gave me the strength to say goodbye."

In that moment, Amelia Pond knew she spoke the truth. As soon as this epiphany came upon her, the Doctor faded away as if he had never been anything more than smoke and light. Amy couldn't help but smile to herself as the laid back down in bed. Though the dream had been bitter sweet, it brought her joy, because it meant that maybe, somewhere across space and time, her Raggedy Man was dreaming of her too.