Title: Alone in the Ice

Rating: K+ for safety

Words: 4,224

Characters: The 11th Doctor, Amelia Pond, Rory Pond

Summary: They're trapped and quite possibly freezing to death. It's all Rory can do to keep from panicking when the Doctor and Amy leave him behind again.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Doctor Who. If I did, Karren and the Babes would play private concerts at my house every evening.

Warnings: FEEEEEELS.

"Well this is just great, isn't it?"

"Well… how was I supposed to know the caterers had been replaced by a squadron of Holerki slavers?"

"Sometimes I think you do. Sometimes I think you know what's going to happen every single time, and you just enjoy this part of it all so much, you… you just… 'neglect' to tell us."

"Well that's total rubbish. You're being ridiculous Rory. Amy-"

"Don't. Don't even look over here."

The Doctor huffed as he paced the tiny cavern, one arm rubbing vigorously against strategic points on his body to try and encourage the blood flow while the other moved through the air, guiding the light of the sonic over the walls of their frozen prison. "I don't enjoy this part. Finding it exciting and enjoying it are two completely different things." The Time Lord argued. He lifted the screwdriver to his eyes, holding it much closer than normal to compensate for the near-total darkness. "Well the good news is we aren't going to suffocate."

Rory rubbed his hands up and down Amy's arms and pulled her close to his side. Her teeth were chattering by now and had her face pressed into his neck. "Well, that's great. Excellent. That means there's a place we can crawl out, right?"

"Eh…" The Doctor continued to pace, shoving his hands into his armpits and hunching his shoulders. "Well, bad news time: no. It's coming from somewhere above us and the walls are-" He gestured quickly with his hands, creating a dome above his head. "-concave." They flew back into his armpits and he stomped over to crouch beside the Ponds. "So unless you're part tree frog we're trapped."

"Just… wonderful." Rory pressed his face into Amy's hair and glared at the Time Lord. "Any plans?"

"He doesn't believe in plans." Amy piped up, her arms slipping under Rory's jacket to wrap around his gangly figure.

"Oi!" Looking appropriately affronted, the alien scooted around to flop onto his butt beside her. "I do too believe in plans. I just don't… you know. Always have one. Right away. Sometimes. Oh…" He turned away from them and leaned his back against her shoulder. "Shut up."

The trio sat in silence for a long time, shivering against one another and huddling in their coats. Even the Doctor had bundled up for this trip, though in nothing anyone in anytime on any planet anywhere would ever consider 'stylish'. It was supposed to be a fun evening out—no doomed planets, no homicidal monsters; no danger to speak of. Just a feast in a palace on a frozen planet to celebrate the wonder of everything ice.

Of course, they had no way of knowing about the plot to kidnap the visiting dignitaries to hold for ransom. And of course, the Doctor, being the Doctor, rushed forward to lend his sonic screwdriver and vast alien intelligence to thwarting the scheme. Then one thing led to another, there was a chase, then that bit with the blokes in the ship, three wrong turns and a very vicious guard-something-or-other the size of a draft horse. It had chased them under the palace into what appeared to be a series of catacombs, and just when they'd thought they had escaped, an explosion from above had rocked the walls of the tunnel, sending ice and stone crashing down around them. The time travelers had made it to a small cavern, only to be trapped as the tunnel collapsed behind them.

Amy shifted slightly and tilted her head onto the Doctor's shoulder. He sighed and turned his body around so he could press his cheek against her hair while Rory slipped down to rest his against her breast, comforted by the beating of her heart. "What are going to do, Doctor?" She murmured.

The Time Lord sighed. "I don't know, Pond. Give us some time, we'll sort it out."

Time passed. Time in which all three brains worked furiously towards a solution, only to be distracted by the violent chattering of their teeth or the ferocious trembling of their limbs. What little light was left in the cavern began to fade as night descended. The Doctor continuously checked his watch, scanned their surroundings apparently at random, and mumbled non-stop under his breath. Rory wrapped himself around his wife and tried to keep her warm, tried to keep her alive. Amy worried her lip between her teeth and tried to see the walls of the cave through the darkness. Would someone wonder where they were? Surely one of those important alien politicians from the party would notice the last Time Lord wasn't around, and his blue box was still parked on the veranda? At the very least, they would wonder at that. Right?

She reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone so she could check the time. The green glow of the screen lit up hers and Rory's faces as he too leaned close, curious. What they saw drew twin sounds of despair, which prompted the Doctor to turn. "What is it?"

"The time. Doctor, we've been down here for hours!"

Amy shivered as she passed her friend the phone. "Look. S'been nearly four hours. D'you think they're looking for us yet?"

The Doctor took the phone and she briefly caught his concerned expression. "Not sure. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not. Wait!" He suddenly slapped himself on the forehead and dug into his jacket for his sonic. "Oh I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner!" He made a pleased sound behind his lips and aimed the screwdriver at the tiny cellular device. "Rory, kiss your brilliant wife for me."

Rory grinned at his wife when she narrowed her eyes at him. "Doctor's orders, darling." It brought a small smile to her face, which grew when he leaned in to press his lips to hers. "Now tell me, what exactly did you do?"

Amy shrugged and nuzzled her numb nose against his chest. "No idea, but he made that noise he makes. Must've been something good."

"Oh it was, it was absolutely brilliant aaaand- ah! There we go." He tucked his sonic away and flipped open the phone. "Yes! We have a signal. Alright you little beauty," He dialed a few numbers and hit the pound sign, and suddenly the phone began to hum. "Perfect."

"Mind telling us what you've done there?"

The Doctor chortled and set the phone on his bent knees so he could rub his palms together and blow on his frozen fingers. "I'm sending out a distress signal. There are at least thirty-seven visiting races up there, or were when the party was in full swing. Chances are at least a few remain. We just have to hope at least one is friendly and pray that they pick up the frequency. Until then…"

"Until then, we just have to not freeze to death."

"Correct."

Rory sighed. There was only one thing to do. "Take your clothes off."

Amy's eyes widened at her husband as the Doctor leaned around her to stare at the man incredulously. "Beg pardon?" He demanded. "Have you got a brain freeze?"

Rory rolled his eyes and leaned away to start unzipping his heavy winter coat. "You heard me. Just do it, alright?"

Amy spluttered incoherently for a few seconds before gripping his arm to prevent him shucking off his coat. "Have you gone mad? How will that solve the freezing issue?" She demanded.

Rory was red by now, and was grateful for the darkness. "It's the only way. Leave your pants and boots on, but take your coats and shirts off."

"I, I-I'm speechless. Amy, hit him. Knock him out, he's gone bonkers."

"Rory-"

"Would you both shut up and listen to me?!" He snapped. "I know what I'm talking about. The only way we aren't going to freeze is if we share body heat. The best way to do that is to take off our clothes and lay skin-to-skin with all our clothes wrapped around us like a big cocoon."

While he shed his many layers, and spread his jacket out over the stone, Amy and the Doctor exchanged a quiet look in the glow of the phone. Quickly looking away from each other they began to follow suit. They all three quickly lay on top of Rory's jacket, Amy in the middle, and began to drag shirts and sweaters and finally the two heavy coats over their entwined bodies. The Doctor's, which fell to his bony knees, went on top and was pulled up over their heads. Rory pulled Amy against his chest, covering her body as much as possible with his while the Doctor pressed up against her back and threw his arm over Rory's waist, squeezing all three of them tight together.

It was awkward and uncomfortable but it was a bit warmer.

Time ticked on.

Amy fell into an uneasy, intermittent sleep between the shivering men at one point, her face pressed against Rory's throat, her left arm, the one against the ground, folded between their chests while her right held him to her. She could feel him vibrating, heard his teeth chattering, and hugged him all the closer.

Rory's back was numb, and little pinpricks of fire were waking up in the arm pinned by Amy's head. He had that wrapped around her skull, trapped her against his neck while his face nuzzled into her hair. He was exhausted and hungry and so very cold.

"Rory."

His head jerked up to find the Doctor staring intently at him. The phone, still emitting that eerie hum and glow, was on the ground by his head. Rory had to clear his throat before he could speak. "W-w-what?" The Doctor frowned thoughtfully for a moment before he suddenly shifted. He sat up and straddled the pair, carefully crawling over them and adjusting the cocoon as he went. "D-doctor, w-what are you d-d-doing?"

"You're temperature is dangerously low. Amy's alright for now. Just hold on- ah! Cold! Okay, wait- there." Ignoring the human's protests, the Doctor pressed his chest to Rory's back and hooked his arm around Amy's waist, sandwiching the Roman between them. "There."

Despite the weirdness of the situation, Rory found himself whimpering with gratitude as feeling began to seep back into spine and shoulders. "Th-ththhhhanks."

"Welcome."

Rory rubbed his hand in wide circles on his wife's back to compensate for the loss of heat. Straining his neck, he turned his head enough to see the curve of the Doctor's ear. "W-w-what about you?"

The alien laughed once, quietly. "I'm fine. Time Lords are a little sturdier than humans. If I switch from you to Amy every few minutes, I should be able to create enough movement to keep myself warm and, more importantly, awake."

Rory nodded weakly and hooked a leg around Amy's knees so her legs were between his. "Doctor… I'm… scared."

He felt the Time Lord sigh and curl closer around them. "So am I, Rory. So am I."

The Doctor continued to change his position beneath the thick layer of clothing. It did help, some. Not much, but it kept Amy and Rory from losing more heat. Eventually, despite the Ponds' protests, he wiggled out from under the layers of shirts and sweaters and wrapped them tight around Amy and Rory, so he was only covered by the heavy coats. It provided insulation and warmed them up considerably, and though he wouldn't admit it, it cooled the Doctor down just as much. He continued rolling over them, though, wrapping his arms tightly around his companions and keeping up a constant stream of chatter while the phone hummed away above their heads. Eventually he turned on the sonic and directed them to cradle it between their bodies. It wasn't much, but the little piece of hardware offered nominal warmth and they huddled close to soak it up.

Still the Doctor shifted above them, his movements growing sluggish and clumsier as the hours passed.

There was a trickle of light in the cavern now, a thin beam that reflected off the ice and bounced around so it was impossible to know exactly where it came from. Rory stared blankly at one of the brighter spots and fantasized about the ball. About how the night might have gone if everything had been just been… easy. If the stupid aliens hadn't attacked, if they hadn't intervened, if the Doctor had taken them to someplace on Earth. Someplace normal.

If the Doctor had stayed imaginary.

Rory cringed and closed his eyes. Behind him, the Doctor released a shaky breath against the Roman's shoulder and for a moment he feared the alien had heard his thoughts. The Doctor mumbled something under his breath and shuddered, and Rory realized that he was asleep. Guilt coiled in his stomach—how could he have, even for a moment, thought that his life would be somehow better without the Doctor? It was a loathsome thought and it made Rory cringe again.

I'm so sorry, Doctor. I'm just so scared…

What are we going to do? We can't last much longer like this. Why has no one come for us?

The arm folded under Amy's head had long ago gone numb. He couldn't feel the limb and last he'd checked, the tips of his fingers had gone blue. The other hand continued to stroke and slide over Amy's back, pressing firmly to increase the friction. Despite everything, her skin had gone icy once more.

She'd left him alone, again. This time there was only one way to follow her, and that thought scared him nearly as much as being alone. He trembled and sobbed against the side of her face, clutching her unresponsive body closer.

It wasn't until something twitched against his hip that he remembered the Doctor.

"D-D-Doctor." He released her to elbow the alien awake. "D-D-Doctor, Amy needs you now." There was no response. "Doctor?" Silence.

There was only silence. Silence, broken by the sound of their erratic, labored breathing.

His own hitched, and shuddered out. It took every ounce of will power he still possessed to draw another.

He tried not to panic. Really, he tried. He was a nurse, after all. Panicking was just something he didn't do. However, Amy's pulse was lower than he would have liked it. In fact, it was low enough to be downright frightening. And behind him, the alien with the so-called 'superior biology' was unconscious.

Oh god, what do I do?

Nothing he did, no matter how loud he hollered, or how hard he pinched them, they wouldn't wake. They remained stubbornly unaware of the left-behind Centurion.

Amy's heart beat weakly against his arm where it was pinned under her side. He choked out a sound of distress as he gracelessly extracted it from beneath her. He lay it over the Doctor's and pressed his finger's to the old man's wrist, breathing out a sigh of relief when he felt the pulse. Weak and thready, but there.

They were doing badly. They were doing badly, and he was the only one who could do anything about it. The only one because they'd left him alone.

He was alone.

He shook himself mentally and grit his teeth. Alright. Okay. Change it up. Only way.

He did it fast, but it still made his body ache and teeth clatter painfully together. Rory pulled himself from the pile of clothing, his right arm dangling uselessly by his side. Using all of his remaining strength, he shoved the Doctor against Amy and covered them both with all the light clothing, using the sweaters around their legs and feet. He pulled the thick winter coats over himself, then lay on top of the pair, straddling their hips and resting his head on Amy's shoulder. "D-d-on't worry g-guys." He whispered. "It'll be okay. It always turns out okay. Someone will find us." He reached up, hand quaking, for the phone. The battery low icon was blinking cheerily on the screen, mocking him. "Someone will find us in time." His words were barely audible, but the only two people around to hear him were unconscious.

Because once again, they'd left him alone.

Alone. His mind wept. Alone. I'm alone again. He shifted his head to the Doctor's shoulder as his body was wracked with strangled sobs. They've left me behind again, just like they always do. He dug his fingers into their ribs as he hugged them, trying to hold back the tears. Rory the Roman… more like Rory the tag-along. Only this time, they're not off on an adventure, they haven't forgotten me. At least the Doctor will regenerate, right? Maybe he'll figure something out then. The phone beeped, vibrated, and then died. He shook and turned his head to his wife, pressed his frozen lips to her temple, and closed his eyes.

I'm going to die alone. Again.

He couldn't feel his toes. His fingers, his arms or legs. His nose must have fallen off with his ears. Every heartbeat sounded like a thundering drum in his ears.

He could hear more rumbling overhead. Was the cavern collapsing?

Good. He thought tiredly. Maybe it'll warm up some.

He couldn't feel Amy's pulse when he pressed his lips to her throat. The Doctor's hearts were silent as well when the Roman pressed his ear to the man's side. His own chugged along like an old, broken down train.

His head was pounding and his chest hurt, and now he was truly alone.

There were voices now. Voices with funny accents that all melded together until he could barely understand anything they were saying.

Someone close by was yelling hoarsely, and then he could hear a frantic scraping.

Did someone just call us two-legged deer?

"Shh, be still now."

"We must get them back to the ship. This one is-"

"-flat lining. We need to shock him-"

"-okay. You'll be okay. You're friends, they-"

Warm. I'm warm. Am I dead now?

He hurt. Everywhere. It wasn't an unbearable pain, more a constant, bone-deep ache. His skin was itchy and his head throbbed.

Does that mean I'm still alive?

Where's Amy? And the Doctor?

"Where… are…-"

Someone touched him on the shoulder. He could feel them lean closer, over him, their musical voice soft and comforting. "Rest now, Rory Williams. All in good time."

The next time he woke, he was able to force his eyes open.

He was laid out flat on a soft surface, one that molded to his body and for one giddy moment made him believe he was hovering above the ground. There were machines all around him, ones that were vaguely similar to the equipment he used back home, others that were completely foreign.

The room all around him… did it exist? There were no seams, no corners. Maybe he was floating. Panic crossed his features as he tried to lift his head to look around, to see…

Color appeared beyond the foot of his bed in a mechanical whoosh, but before he could see what was happening, he succumbed to exhaustion again and fell back against the bed, unconscious.

"You've slept long enough, hi-yuu-min. You must wake now."

Rory groaned as the voice washed over him, chasing away the aches and pains his body tried to bombard his consciousness with. "Amy… Doctor…"

"It's alright. It's going to be alright, Rory Pond… Williams?" The voice was tinted with amusement now. "Our data is that your name is Rory Williams, but the skinny one called you Pond..."

"I… am… a Pond."

"Hey. Stupid face."

Rory's eyes flashed open. He gasped and shot up in the bed, nearly head butting his wife. "Amy!"

She moved close again and they threw their arms around one another. "'Bout time you woke up, lazy. The Doctor and I have been waiting forever."

Rory blinked and pulled just far enough away to see the Time Lord perched on the arm of the chair Amy had dragged up to his bed. "Doctor!"

The Time Lord chuckled warmly and stood, transferring himself to the edge of Rory's bed. "Good morning, Rory. How are you feeling?"

The nurse-turned-patient had to laugh at that as he slumped back into the flat, uncomfortable pillows. "Peachy."

Amy's hand came to lie against his chest as she leaned in for a kiss. "Well, you look terrible."

"Thank you, darling. Always with words of comfort for your beloved husband."

The trio laughed, and Rory felt the Doctor's hand drift to his shin as Amy leaned her forehead against his own. He felt her other hand slide across the bed, and peeked open and eye to watch her lay it against the Doctor's wrist, connecting the three of them. Even as Rory felt a surge of warmth and joy, his eyes drifted down to the hand on his leg, and gasped. "Doctor!"

The Time Lord blinked as Amy sat up, following her husband's gaze. The Doctor's hand was heavily bandaged, and he gave Rory a sheepish grin before lifting the appendage to study it. "Just some frostbite, Rory. It'll heal."

Rory swallowed and nodded, then looked around. He was in the same strange, wall-less room. Everything was seamless white, except for the patches of shadow from the machinery set up around his bed. "Where are we?" His gaze flicked to Amy's face first, and his hand curled around her fingers before he looked to the Doctor. "How'd we get here?"

"Ah. Well," The old man slid off the bed and paced away, his good hand coming up to wrap tenderly around the wrist of his frost-bitten hand. "I'm not entirely sure, as I must have blacked out at some point. When I started coming too, you were on top of us-"

Rory nodded. "I remember that."

"Well, something had woken me up, and it took me longer than I'd care to admit to realize it was the sound of digging. I realized someone had finally come for us, and pulled myself out of our cozy little nest to try and get their attention." He held his hand up, examining his unmovable fingers for a moment. "Not in possession of my full mental faculties, I tried to dig through the ice. Luckily the burn shocked me back into reason, and I started digging with a shirt wrapped around my other hand. Didn't make much of a dent, but the search party must have been digging from the other side." He lifted his other hand, where a single strip of white ran across his palm. "The shovel cut right through that shirt Amy's aunt knitted you…" The Doctor grimaced. "Sorry-"

Rory snorted, hastily turning it into a cough when Amy shot him a look. "Uh… it's alright Doctor. I'll… get another."

"Ah, good. Perhaps while she's knitting you one, she'd make a blue one for me as well." He said hopefully. "They really were lovely warm." When Rory mumbled something about asking, the Doctor grinned. "Right, well I sort of blacked again out after that, and next thing I knew, we were on some great big ship. The rescue party from the palace were transporting us to the nearest medical facility, as we three were apparently in the most dire of straits. They've been treating us here since then."

"Exactly how long ago was 'then'?"

Amy rubbed her hand up and down Rory's arm comfortingly. "Almost a week. We were in the cave for almost twenty-four hours." She murmured.

Rory swallowed again. "A week…"

The Doctor gestured to Amy. "Yes, Amelia here woke first. I suspect because she's Scottish and they're quite stubborn." Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation, but Rory found himself agreeing. "I woke last night, and we've been waiting here since this morning, trying to wake you."

Rory grimaced as his various aches and pains gave a dull throb, as if reminding him of the ordeal of nearly freezing to death. "Sorry for being late to the party."

The Doctor was fidgeting, watching as his two dear companions turned to each other, hands stroking and soothing, their eyes locked on each other's faces in silent communication. He waited a full minute before speaking again. "I'm sorry."

The Ponds parted, looking up at the alien in shock. Amy turned slightly towards him, her brows furrowed. "Doctor?"

He sighed, closing his eyes as if steeling himself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. "I… I'm sorry. For getting you two into this. For… for nearly kill-"

Amy jumped off the bed and in a flash, had her arms wrapped tightly around the Doctor's narrow frame. He tensed in surprise before relaxing enough to embrace her in return. He felt something pull on his shirt, and opened his eyes to see Rory's fingers clutching at hem of the hospital shirt he wore. The Roman sat up as the Doctor and Amy moved closer to the bed. The three of them embraced, holding one another in mutual comfort and reassurance. Rory felt the Doctor's frostbitten hand on the back of his neck, and squeezed his eyes shut as he buried his face in Amy's side, and hugged the Doctor's middle all the harder.

He was not alone.