Rory found himself in the middle of Times Square, abuzz with electric lights. It was the night of the 23rd of September 1938. He looked around through the traffic and the crowds of people in search of Amy. He tried to recall the tombstone he'd seen. He couldn't remember if Amy's name was next to his. He didn't care if he never got back home again as long as Amy was buried beside him at that gravesite. He prayed to the angels to bring her to him.

Rory stayed in Times Square all night until the sun rose of the morning of the 24th. He started walking towards Central Park. Maybe Amy left with The Doctor and left him to live to death just like last time. If Amy was sent back to 1938 with him and she wasn't in Central Park then she'd more than likely be waiting at the cemetery. After waiting in Central Park for hours, Rory figured it was his last shot. He arrived at the cemetery around 3pm and Amy was nowhere to be found. Over 24 hours without sleep was getting to him and Rory felt himself nodding off. He resigned himself to sleeping on a bench at the edge of the cemetery.

Amy found herself on the corner of 7th Ave. and West 125th. The clock by the shoe shop said it was a quarter to 4pm. It was September 24th 1938 and she seemed to be standing out of the crowd in her tight blue jeans. People were giving her the eye. Amy was only mildly aware of the stares, she was busy looking for her husband. The angels had to have sent him to the same time, they just had to. She figured maybe they had just taken him to another part of town.

She'd try Central Park first with no luck. She asked around if anyone had seen a tall, disoriented-looking thin man walking around the park but there seemed to be a great deal of homeless people fitting that very description. It was half past 5pm when Amy finally made it to the cemetery. She wandered around ready to give up hope until she noticed a familiar pair of shoes peeking out from a makeshift blanket fashioned out of newspaper.

"Rory!" She ran to him and woke him up.

He shot up and gasped noticing Amy. "I thought, I'd lost you!" He kissed her passionately.

"How long have you been here?" Amy asked as she looked at her severely disheveled husband.

"The angels dropped me off in the middle of Times Square last night." He groaned as he attempted to stand.

"I only just got here 2 hours ago. You've been sleeping on a bench all this time?" Amy looked worried. "Where are we going to stay, Rory? I don't... I don't think he's coming back.. The Doctor said this was a fixed point now. There's so many paradoxes that it would rip New York apart if he tried to come here again." Amy's eyes were beginning to water.

"Well, we've ripped apart the universe so many times I've lost count" Rory's droll reply made Amy chuckle through her tears.

They tried to hitch a ride on the subway but the tunnels were closed due to flooding.

"Flooding?" Amy asked. "Was there some kind of storm?"

"Are you trying to be funny? Cuz that ain't the least bit funny" A construction worker who'd come up from the tunnel below gave her a stern look. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's better to be seen, not heard?"

"What?" Amy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I said, you're really pretty but don't go ruining it by pretending you're smart." The man replied

"Give me your shovel." Amy walked towards him. "I'm about to knock some sense into that Neanderthal brain of yours."

"Whoa, Amy." Rory lunged in front of his wife. "Just relax... this is no time to fly off the handle, right?"

"I can't do this, Rory! I can't do this!" Amy yelled and punched Rory's shoulder in frustration. "I gotta get out of here."

"Ouch" Rory braced himself.

The man laughed. "You need to learn to control your woman."

"And you need to learn some manners." Rory turned around and shot back. "Now we're obviously not from around here and we're not entirely sure what's going on so just tell us what's happened."

"Hurricane came through on the 21st. Hundreds are dead and plenty more injured." The man hung his head mournfully.

"Where's the nearest hospital in need of assistance? I could help." Rory asked.

"Are you a doctor?" The man suddenly changed his tone. "I'm sorry about disrespecting you, sir. It was just..."

"You owe my wife the apology, not me." Rory was dead serious.

"Sorry, miss" The man bowed. "And to answer your question. There's St. Vincent's."

As they walked to 7th Avenue Amy tried to stop Rory. "You think you can just walk into the hospital and say 'Hi, I'm a time travelling nurse from the future and I heard you might be needing some assistance.' And they're just going to give you a job on the stop?"

"What have we got left to lose?" Rory shrugged. "If we're stuck here then we might as well make the most of it."

Rory was met with some confusion but there was such a shortage of nurses they allowed him to stay. But not without a lot of grumbling. "The American Nurses Association doesn't even allow men to join." One of the nurses scoffed.

"Good thing I'm not an American then" Rory shot back as he got to work.

Amy wasn't sure what she ought to do with herself. Back home she was a writer and a model. She couldn't seem to find a job as quickly as Rory did but at least now they had something. He'd been working at St. Vincent's for a little over a month but nursing didn't earn much. All they could get their hands on was a tiny, rundown flat in the middle of Brooklyn.