Author's Note: This story represents a few firsts for me. First time I've done an actual, proper short story. First time I've done a fanfic with ONLY canon characters. First time I've completed a story before beginning to post it here. Here's hoping you enjoy all my firsts, and let me know. :)

The first time it happened it seemed innocent enough. Amy and Rory had been in the swimming pool, enjoying a leisurely splash and swim before bedtime. It was three days, Rory thought, since their encounter with the Dream Lord. He'd expected sleep to be difficult but it was amazing how quickly his memories had faded. He could only recall fragments of the dreams now, and getting to sleep was no longer difficult. Amy seemed to feel the same way; she always managed to drop off quickly. The only one who seemed to have any difficulty was the Doctor; Rory didn't think he'd slept for the past two days, but tonight he'd announced he was heading to bed. Amy and Rory had wished him well before heading to the pool.

They'd been splashing around for about an hour when the door to the pool room slid open. Rory felt dismayed to see the Doctor enter. He'd really hoped the Time Lord would get some rest.

"Can't sleep, Doctor?" he called, starting toward the end of the pool closest to the door. The Doctor didn't respond. He was moving forward slowly and Rory paused, feeling alarmed. There was something wrong. The Doctor was clad in pajamas – white with TARDIS-blue pinstripes – and barefoot. His eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything as he moved, coming closer and closer to the pool with his slow, halting steps.

"Doctor?" Rory called again, resuming his swim toward the pool's edge. There was definitely something wrong. The Doctor still didn't acknowledge him, continuing to walk forward. Rory was half-way to the pool's end when the Doctor took his last step, pitching forward into the pool.

"Doctor!" Amy cried and Rory heard her moving after him. The Time Lord was face-down in the water, unmoving, and Rory hurried alongside him. He rolled the Doctor onto his back, cradling the back of his head with one hand and placing the other at the small of his back. For a heart-stopping second the Doctor was still, then he jerked and began to cough. Rory kept his hands on him, making sure he kept his head above water even as he moved him toward the pool's edge.

"Wha… what am I doing here?" the Doctor spluttered.

"You walked right into the pool," Amy said breathlessly, moving up alongside them.

"No," the Doctor protested. "No. I couldn't have."

"You did," Rory told him, helping him up the steps out of the pool.

"But that… that doesn't make sense." The Doctor let Rory guide him toward a deck chair. Amy moved after them, snatching up one of the towels she and Rory had brought with them and draping it around the Doctor's shoulders.

"Are you alright?" she asked anxiously. When the Doctor didn't say anything she looked at Rory. "Is he?"

"I think he was sleepwalking," Rory said, looking back to the Doctor. "Is that possible? Do Time Lords sleepwalk?"

"I don't know," the Doctor answered. He was staring down at the floor, his face a mask of confusion. Water was dripping from him and he'd made no move to use the towel Amy had brought him. Rory reached for it.

"C'mon," he urged. "Let's get you dried off." He grabbed the towel and started to dry the Doctor's hair. After a moment the Time Lord stirred and took the towel from him.

"I'm alright," he said quietly. "I… I'm going to go get changed." He got to his feet and Rory moved back to make space.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm fine," the Doctor insisted, turning for the door.

Rory and Amy moved to the showers, dressing quickly before stepping out into the hall. They started toward their room, coming to a stop when they heard the sound of whistling coming from the console room. Rory moved on down the corridor, stopping on the landing to see the Doctor, dried off, fully-dressed, and working under the center column of the console. Rory sighed before turning away to go to bed.

…

A few days after the swimming pool incident, the Doctor took them to Treylon III. Rory had asked for a visit to a nice, peaceful planet. He was fairly certain the Doctor still wasn't sleeping and he hoped spending a night away from the TARDIS might do him good. They'd spent a leisurely afternoon wandering through an open-air market before winding up in a sidewalk café for dinner. The Doctor had said something about giving them some time together and tried to leave, but both Rory and Amy had insisted he stay. Rory wanted to see him eat (something he hadn't been doing a lot of on the TARDIS) and Amy wanted him to explain what was on the menu.

After their supper they strolled back to their hotel. The Doctor had used his psychic paper to secure them a luxurious suite on the top floor. They had a large sitting room with a bedroom on either side. All the rooms opened onto a sweeping balcony which gave them a commanding view of the city. Rory and Amy intended to enjoy it for a bit, but the Doctor retreated to his bedroom as soon as they reached the suite. Rory hoped he was going to sleep. The Time Lord's face was pale and his eyes shadowed. He'd also been trying to hide his yawns for the past hour.

Rory and Amy spent a few minutes out on the balcony, admiring the city below, before they went to their own bedroom. It had been a long day and after all their time in the fresh air, Rory thought he'd fall asleep quickly. An hour later he was still awake, staring up at the ornately-plastered ceiling of the bedroom and listening to Amy's steady breathing beside him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It seemed impossible; this visit had been uneventful and enjoyable so far. The people in this particular city made their living entertaining tourists and they'd been gracious and welcoming. There'd been no hint of danger or disturbance. Still, Rory couldn't stop worrying. Finally he threw off the covers and slipped out of the bed, grabbing up his robe as he moved toward the French door leading to the balcony.

The planet had two moons and they were both shining brightly, casting a silver glow over everything. Rory stepped outside, drawing his robe closer as he stared out over the city. The stones in the buildings reflected the moonlight, while the cobblestone streets snaked in between them like a charcoal river. There was a flowering vine snaking around the balcony railing, the white blooms lightly scenting the cool air. Rory felt some of his anxiety easing as he took a deep breath. Surely nothing could go wrong here.

A creaking noise caught Rory's attention and he turned to see the Doctor emerging from his bedroom. He was clad in pajamas – this time they had dark blue polka-dots on them –and his feet were bare. Rory shook his head, feeling dismayed. He'd hoped the Doctor would be asleep by now. At least he needed to put on a robe and some slippers before he got chilled. He turned toward him, intending to say something, and felt his heart-rate pick up. The Doctor was moving as if in a trance, taking slow, halting steps toward the balcony rail.

"Doctor," Rory called, hurrying toward him. "Doctor, stop!" His words made no difference; the Doctor continued toward the railing, only stopping when he ran in to it. For a moment he was still, then he lifted on foot as if to climb up on to the rail. Rory lunged forward to catch his pajama-shirt-collar and pull him back. The Doctor fell, crashing in to Rory and causing them both to drop toward the balcony floor. They landed in a heap, Rory just managing to keep from hitting his head. The Doctor was sprawled across him, his elbow poking Rory's stomach. Rory wasn't sure if he'd hit his head or not; it all happened so fast. For a second he was still, struggling to catch his breath, and then the Doctor stirred.

"Wha… what?" He shifted, his elbow digging deeper into Rory's stomach and making him yelp. The Doctor froze, turning to stare at Rory. For an instant his fear and confusion was plain in his face, then he shut down. He managed to roll off of Rory without elbowing him further, coming to a rest face-down on the balcony.

"Doctor…" Rory began, sitting up.

"I'm fine." The Doctor pushed himself up into a seated position, his back to Rory.

"No, you're not. You were sleepwalking again."

"I'm fine," the Doctor repeated. "I just…"

"You almost went over the railing," Rory protested, reaching out to catch his shoulder when he started to get to his feet. "Doctor…"

"I'm sorry I scared you."

"Were you dreaming?" Rory pressed, scrambling to his feet as the Doctor stood.

"I don't remember." He seemed lost in thought, struggling to keep track of whatever was going through his mind and deal with Rory's questions at the same time. He took a few hesitant steps toward the balcony door and Rory moved with him.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, reaching to get the door.

"I… I think I'll take a walk," the Doctor answered, moving through the door into his bedroom. Rory followed, watching him anxiously. The Doctor unbuttoned his pajama shirt before reaching for his clothes which were neatly folded on a bench at the foot of his bed.

"I'll come with you," Rory said firmly.

"You should go back to bed," the Doctor said, shrugging out of his pajama top and reaching for a vest. "I just… need to think. I won't go far."

"I'm coming," Rory repeated. He hurried out of the room and across the sitting room to his bedroom. He reached for his own clothing, which was scattered across the bench at the foot of the bed he shared with Amy. He shrugged out of his robe and pajamas, scrambling back into his jeans.

When they reached the lobby, Rory and the Doctor discovered the city had a curfew. The only option available to them for wandering was a small museum attached to the hotel. It was closed, but a wave of the psychic paper was enough to persuade the desk clerk to open it up for them. Rory trailed behind as the Doctor moved from exhibit to exhibit, criticizing most of them.

They passed a few hours in the museum before returning to the suite. Rory felt asleep on his feet, as if he'd just finished a 14-hour shift at the hospital, but the Doctor seemed energized. He bounded into the sitting room, coming to a stop when confronted by an irritable Amy.

"Where have the two of you been?" she demanded. She was perched on the arm of one of the couches, her arms crossed over her chest and her slippered foot beating out an impatient tattoo on the floor. The Doctor moved past her, reaching for the remote for the entertainment system. Amy shifted her frown to Rory, her glower deepening.

"We… we went for a walk," Rory said, trying to divide his attention between Amy and the Doctor. Amy was still frowning; the Doctor was scrolling through the menu on the vid screen.

"A walk? At this hour?"

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed. "They have Laurel and Hardy. I love Laurel and Hardy!" He flopped onto the couch and cued up a show. Amy glanced at him, sighing in exasperation.

"Rory…"

"C'mon," Rory said, motioning her toward their bedroom. He was finding it increasingly hard to stay upright. He managed, while changing back into his pajamas, to give Amy some semblance of an explanation before dropping into the bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.