“I’m dead for good this time, right?” Rory looks at Death seriously.

The horseman nods once, “Yes.”

“Will Amy be alright without me?”

“Rory, you and I have met enough times. You should know by now that I don’t answer questions.”

“Worth a try, though. Right?”

“Are you ready?” a dark-haired woman appears beside Death.

“Who are you?”

“I’m a reaper,” she says. “You’ve never been one to permanently die before now. I wasn’t needed. But now it’s time to go.”

Rory looks back at Amy, fast asleep in a chair beside the hospital bed he once occupied.

“She’ll live five years more before I take her. She’ll write novels, meet her younger self, and visit with your daughter plenty of times. She’ll be fine,” Death says.

Rory looks back, “What?”

Death doesn’t answer, he just gives Rory a significant look before vanishing.

“Are you coming?” the reaper asks, tilting her head towards the door.

Rory spares once last look at Amy, then follows the reaper.

Away.