Sparks fly as the handbots collide, jolting each other offline as Amy just stares. Death seems to follow her here, though she never wants for food or water and the interface is only too happy to answer her questions.

A week has passed since she left the containment room, and Amy starts to feel the first twitches of doubt.

A few months in, she catches a 'bot unaware, surprising herself and probably whatever AI is keeping the machine going. Going over the design, it occurs to her that the hands of the robots are the only ones with sensors – their bodies, on the other hand, are completely immune to the antiseptic shock. She grimaces, feeling like a doctor doing surgery, but she's skeptical about rescue and at this point, any safety would be welcome.

She makes her first suit of armor.

'He's abandoned you before.'

The thought echoes in her head all the more frequently these days, and she stopped pushing it aside months ago – it's not exactly like it's false, after all. Oh, Amy knows that he doesn't mean to do it (most of the time, she pushes away, doesn't want to think…), knows that time is complicated far beyond her means and sometimes even beyond his, but it doesn't hurt any less when he does this. When he leaves her behind.

Waiting.

People called her crazy before, but for all that now there's nobody but the interface to speak to she feels crazier every day. Two Streams may be a beautiful paradise, but it's still a hospital quarantine – still confinement. And confinement, no matter how beautiful, is even worse than four psychiatrists.

Waiting twice for the Doctor, who has every means, right, and obligation to rescue her, is getting old quickly. But the one person Amy never stops trusting in is Rory.

Because how could she? Two thousand years – not quite an eternity but still an utterly unfathomable amount of time – and he never gave up. Never stopped waiting, never stopped protecting her and the Pandorica which for all she knows was indestructible, but he never left.

If the Doctor shows up, calling "Come along, Pond," the way he so loves to do, she's going to cut that man's head off, last of the Time Lords be damned. She thinks that maybe he deserves it.

But if Rory comes? If he looks at her, her aging body and cold dead eyes, and sees his best friend, his wife, his Amy?

(The only person he has ever loved?)

He understands this slow path of waiting. Amy will follow him past the edge of the universe.