Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own, nor have I made up, the characters in this story.

Summary: "Whatever they did to me at Demon's Run, I can't ever give you children. I didn't kick you out. I gave you up."

Adrift

"Amy," he said as he read the paper one lazy Sunday morning. "Can we... you know... try? For a baby, I mean?"

Amy, still half asleep, murmured "mmmhmmm" which he interpreted as a go-ahead. He kissed her gently and felt her lips curl into a smile.

"Good morning tiger – oh!" She giggled, that beautiful girlish sound that Rory adored. "Someone's pleased to see me."

A few days later, Amy played the scenario back in her mind and worked out that they had been trying for a baby that morning. She chewed her lip as she poured herself a drink and sat down in the living room, recalling the conversation she'd had with her doctor a fortnight before.

She wouldn't be able to have another child. She'd suspected so; maybe she'd even known that after Demon's Run a normal family life would be difficult, but she hadn't expected this. Even the doctor couldn't explain her infertility – though of course, he didn't know the whole truth.

"There are other options though, Amelia." He said solemnly, looking at her over his glasses. And she had nodded solemnly in return, taking three leaflets about egg donors, surrogacy and adoption. She'd dumped them unceremoniously in the nearest bin on the way out.

But Rory, oh Rory. The thing he wanted most, apart from her, was children.

Telling him was hard. They'd tried again twice more, Rory smiling at her with pure joy, and she lay there cold and restless long after he'd fallen asleep. She got up and out of bed, tiptoeing past that bloody Ood so she could make tea just the way she liked it – full of sugar. The Ood would never allow her to have more than two teaspoons, and Rory just laughed when she pulled faces at the bitter taste she wasn't used to.

Amy sat on the sofa, tea in hand, and jumped when Rory sat down beside her with his own cup of tea. He had no sugar, saying Amy had enough for the both of them.

"Amelia Williams," he smiled at her, but looked worried. "Why are you drinking tea-y sugar alone at three o'clock in the morning?" Even his attempt at their shared joke received only a perfunctory smile. "Amy, whatever is bothering you, can it bother you at a normal time so my right side doesn't get cold? Or could you just tell me? Maybe I can help you."

"Rory, I can't have children." She hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but now she couldn't stop herself. "Demon's Run, whatever they did to me, I can't have children anymore. I can't give you children."

She caught a glimpse of Rory's face, and her heart broke. Rory's face, that stupid face she loved so much, was crumpled in despair, as though a light had gone out. She couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the disappointment in his eyes – disappointment in her – so she buried her face in his chest, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Rory."

"It's not your fault, Amy, don't be so silly." He said, but it was because she had run away with the Doctor.

"It's not your fault." He said again, as if he could sense her thoughts, but she couldn't believe him.

They'd both moved carefully around each other for the next few days. The Ood was finally gone (Rory had poured almost an entire bag of sugar in Amy's tea in celebration) and life was normal. Amy continued modelling to bring the money in as Rory entered his final months of training.

"Soon I'll be fully qualified and you won't have to pose for pictures anymore." He said, tactlessly.

Amy glared at him. "I'm working." She snapped. "No, I'm not saving lives, but at least it's paying our bills." She caught his eye and immediately regretted her words.

"Well it's not like we have to save for children now, is it? And the Doctor's given us the house so we don't have a mortgage." He snapped right back. "You can get a job – a real job even if it earns less."

Amy stormed from the room, slamming the door, and leant up against it, crying silently.

"Amy," came Rory's tentative voice. "Amy, I'm sorry. I was stupid. I didn't mean that. You're the most important person in my life, you know that. I don't care what job you do. Amy..."

But Rory so desperately wanted children. And if she walked away, he could have them with someone else. So instead of opening the door and letting Rory kiss away her tears, she walked away.

A crack, in time, will grow, and eventually cause the world to shatter.

Another day, another argument. After weeks of non-stop fights and arguments, Amy was praying that Rory would leave and make this easier for her. She knew she was giving him up; he thought she was leaving him behind and could only cling on even tighter.

It ended suddenly, unexpectedly. She came home early from modelling to find him sprawled on the sofa with his feet up. Irritated, she slammed the door and he leant his head back to smile at her, oblivious to her annoyance. "Mrs Williams!"

"Rory." She spoke coldly, through gritted teeth, refusing to acknowledge their age-old joke.

"Good day having your photo taken?"

"For God's sake, Rory!" She yelled. "I've had the worst day! My shoot was cancelled, I was stook in the freezing cold as my taxi was booked for three hours later and I couldn't really get another because we've no money until my next paycheque. Nor could I get hold of you. What have you been doing today, dearest husband?"

"How did you get back then?" Rory sat up, ignoring her question.

"Well clearly I had to get the bloody taxi back, so now we have no money for the rest of the month. No money at all."

He wasn't really listening. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "But I suppose you don't care now we don't have a baby to save for."

He stood quickly to face her. "Amy, you know I didn't mean that."

"Get out Rory! Get out! Go and have your bloody perfect kids with someone who isn't broken!"

He stared at her, mouth open, trying to form the right words to calm her down.

"Leave, Rory!"

He pulled on his shoes, trying to mouth apologies, but she would not listen, and chased him to the door as he grabbed his coat. He marched from the house and Amy followed him outside. "I hate you!" She yelled, and then pressed her hand to her mouth in horror at the lie she'd just told.

Tears came unbidden to her eyes and she wiped them away with the palm of her hand, watching Rory's angry, retreating back.

"Oh Rory, if only you could see, I'm giving you up." She told him, wishing he could hear. She glanced at the sky, looking for the little blue box in the air that she had run away in so many times. It wasn't there. She had a feeling that she'd never be able to run away from what she'd just done.

She wandered back into the house, adrift without Rory there to keep her steady, dumping her keys on the kitchen table.

"Raggedy man," she whispered, leaning on the table, watching her own tears dropping to the wooden surface. "We need you."

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