Of Wedding Rings and Bad Wolves

It took a moment for them to realize that yes; someone actually was playing the piano.

Amy and Rory stared at each other with furrowed brows as very faint music drifted up to their little bedroom in the Tardis. Amy cocked her head as she listened and after a moment, in typical Amy fashion, she grabbed Rory's hand and pulled him out of bed into the corridor.

It had been a few days since Rory and the Doctor had rescued Amy from Apalapucia. Seeing as all of them were still shaken, though the Doctor tried to hide it, the three had decided to take a rest from traveling and let the Tardis drift in the Vortex for a week or so to give everyone time to recuperate. Rory had barely let Amy out of his sight, something that didn't bother Amy in the slightest. Overall, it had been a relaxing three days for the couple, but as Amy and Rory had been discussing when they had noticed the music floating almost silently through the room, something was very wrong with the Doctor.

It was obvious to both of them that the stubborn alien was trying to hide it, but Rory had always been fantastic at reading everyone other than Amy, and Amy knew the Doctor too well. Which really wasn't that well at all, judging by the fact that she didn't even know his real name, but she chose to ignore that little loophole. The Doctor had been so quiet it was almost frightening, and not once had Rory or Amy seen even a flicker of a smile. He was withdrawn, and ten times more mysterious than usual, which was saying something. Usually, as the couple had deducted, he seemed to shake off whatever he really felt to plaster on a fake excited grin, and that was what bothered Amy and Rory the most. The Doctor wasn't even trying to hide his feelings, and it was very worrying. The poor man just seemed so heartbroken.

This, as Amy and Rory silently followed the foreign sound, described perfectly the music that was emanating from the piano neither of them had known the Doctor had. It was haunting, beautiful and yet sad and powerful at the same time. Rory and Amy's quick darting from hiding place to hiding place slowed, and now they walked slowly in the middle of the hallway, captivated. After what seemed like no time at all, they came to a door. Instead of being silver, this door was a deep, warm red. Amy glanced over to Rory, who had a look of deep concentration on his face as he studied the song that was drifting through the door. After a moment, Rory met her eyes, and leaning in, he whispered softly in her ear. "Let's just go in and act like we aren't there."

Amy pondered this idea for a moment before shaking her head, realizing that the song they had been following had come to a close. "Wait," she whispered back, "He's just started a new song, and I want to hear it." Rory nodded before moving to lean against the wall, and Amy followed him. This new piece was slower and sadder than the first. It didn't seem very complex at first, to Amy's untrained ears, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Soon it sped up, yet stayed smooth and soft, the notes dancing in the air, and Amy wished the Doctor had told them he played; he was obviously very talented. Eventually, the song came to an end, and after Amy gave him the go-ahead, Rory gently opened the door.

The room was large yet cozy, with a thick beige carpet and walls of the same color. Warm orange light spilled from a lamp in the corner of the room and from the fire that was flickering in the large white fireplace. A large sofa colored a deep red was tucked in one corner, in front of a TV mounted on the wall, and the other was occupied by a huge bookshelf that was very nearly overflowing. In any other circumstances, Amy would've stopped to admire her surroundings, but she and Rory were focused elsewhere.

In the center of the room stood a magnificent grand piano, made of wood so dark it was almost black. It shone as the flickering light of the fire cast dancing shadows on it, and seated on the bench in front of it with his back to them was the Doctor. He was dressed as usual, other than his coat, which lay sprawled on the floor next to his bench. Without the usual tweed jacket adorning his skinny form, it was obvious that the Doctor's shoulders were painfully tense. He did not acknowledge Amy and Rory's presence, and carefully rifled through the music propped up in front of him before placing a new sheet on top and bringing his hands back to the keys. Taking this a sign that it was alright for them to be there, Amy grabbed Rory's hand silently advanced to stand off to the side of the piano.