Author's Note: Doctor Who, Season 7, Episode 5. "Angels Take Manhattan". An amazing episode. A scary episode. A heartbreaking episode. An episode that needed a coda. This is my coda.

The Telling

Brian Williams was watering the plants when he heard the tell-tale sound. He had been waiting more than a year for it, and he was beyond excited to see his son and daughter-in-law again. He put the watering can down, and turned around. There, standing in the middle of the sidewalk was the giant blue police box. The door opened slightly and Brian went down the steps.

"Well it's about time that you three got back," he began cheerfully. "I was beginning to get worr—"

The Doctor stepped out and right away Brian could tell that something was wrong. The Doctor usually looked like a madman, now he just looked like a sad man. The Doctor was staring at the ground and when he finally met Brian's eyes and Brian could see the horrible truth reflected there.

"No…" he whispered in horror as he sat down on the steps of Amy and Rory's home.

"They're not dead," the Doctor assured as he moved to sit beside Brian. "Not really."

"I don't understand…" Brian muttered in absolute shock. "You promised…"

"I know," the Doctor said. "I know but there were… unforeseen circumstances."

"Unforeseen circumstances?" asked Brian incredulously. "How can you—?"

"You are not the only one who is mourning them," the Doctor shouted, cutting Brian off before he could be accused of anything. "There were unforeseen circumstances, and I was forced to leave them behind. But they lived well Brian. Trust me that they lived well."

Brian looked to the Doctor and could see the grief and the guilt on his face. Brian knew then how much this pained the Doctor. He had seen the loss of his previous companions in the Doctor's eyes the night that the Doctor had explained how the previous travellers had left him. Brian just had to take a small measure of comfort in the fact that they had lived.

"Lived?" Brian asked, the full realization hitting him. "They're dead?"

The Doctor hung his head and nodded. Brian placed his own head in his hands and allowed himself to let a few tears leak out of his eyes before asking the Doctor for more information.

"How did it happen?" Brian asked.

"Brian you don't want to know."

"Yes," Brian assured. "I do. So tell me. How did it happen?"

The Doctor let out a heavy sigh. "We were in Manhattan. I was reading from a book, Amy was reading a paper and Rory… Rory was just enjoying the day. Amy asked him to go get some coffee and that's when it happened."

"What happened?"

"There are these creatures known as the Weeping Angels," the Doctor explained. "They exist as statues for as long as someone is looking at them, but as soon as you blink or look away, the Angels can move. One of these Angels got your son and sent him back to nineteen thirty eight."

"And that's where he stayed then?"

"Yes and no," the Doctor continued. "We managed to save him by creating a paradox which erased the whole thing from happening. But one Angel survived and zapped him back again. Now you must understand, doing what we did was near impossible in the first place and going back again… with a paradox being the way that it was… if I had gone back… if I had even tried, I would have ripped this world apart."

"And… and Amy?" Brian asked haltingly.

"Amy took the chance to be with the man that she loved." the Doctor said simply. "She said goodbye to me and— and allowed the Angel to send her back in time too. She's buried there, with Rory. They lived a good long life. Into their eighties."

"Were they… were they happy?"

The Doctor nodded and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "They certainly were Brian… they certainly were."

It was hours later, when the Doctor was long gone, that Brian sat out in the back yard and looked up at the sky. It was the same sky that his son and daughter-in-law would have been looking up yet, despite the fact that they were across the pond and more than seventy years in the past. It was then; looking up at that sky that Brian allowed himself to cry.

"Goodbye my son," he whispered to the dark, knowing that he would never see Rory again. "Goodbye."