Amelia walked down the snow covered streets of London, 1892. It was lonely, but she learned how to cope. No Rory, no River, no Doctor. She knew he was still out there somewhere. In the distance, she saw a familiar figure. She knew the body type like the back of her hand. Amy followed the figure up the ladder and stairs. Once she reached the top of the stairs, the Doctor was already inside. Amy leaned on the TARDIS pane and knocked on the door three times exactly. "Y'know," she commented, "the TARDIS could use a paint job." She smirked with a laugh. "I'm back."