â YES. ITâS ME HENRY.  â She could see the recognition in his gaze, her own eyes clouding over with unshed tears as she held her breath & waited. She knew what it is to walk around without your memories, an empty vessel, waiting, just waiting, until one day, the memories come washing back to you, pouring over the edges of your entire being until you feel more than youâve felt in a long time. Still it persists, the good, the bad, the truly terrible. She watched him fall, saw the exact moment his knees gave way like someone had pressed a button on some bloody invisible remote & slowed the whole world for a fraction of a second.Â
       â Henry! Itâs-Itâs alright darling. Itâs going to be ok. â River sunk to the ground to join him, wrists trembling as she reached out to try & steady him. Her hands paused halfway however, reluctant to move an inch further. She feared that this might all be a terrible trick, that her hands would go straight through him, leave her clutching the air. Then heâd turn to dust & disappear before her eyes & sheâd be left kneeling in the dirt with nothing & no one. Just as it had been all those years ago. Heâs dead River. Like everyone else youâve ever loved.Â
        She bit down on her bottom lip, determined to quash the doubt in her mind. Henry is a Pond at heart & the universe has always had a hard time trying to rid itself of them. This moment is real, you can feel the ground underneath you, smell the stench of motor oil clings to the air, taste the iron tang of blood on your tongue. All realâŚ.. & so is he. Small fingers closed around his jacket, letting out a shaky laugh as she realised she was grasping something solid. Henry. My Henry. Her self restraint broke then, hands settling on either side of his face so she could reach up & plant a kiss on the top of his head. â Henry. â She murmured, voice thick with emotion. It took a moment for his words to register, eyes searching his hurriedly, dismayed at what she saw there.Â
       â HenryâŚ.. â She began for the third time, swallowing back the feeling of dread,  â What is it? Whatâs wrong? â Â
Itâs almost too much. Too much. So many emotions to grapple with, as she holds onto him, he allows himself to take the weight off, his head leaning into her shoulder as he processes his life --- and his death.Â
But it got easier, the comfort of someone else, someone to help process. Not just any someone. His mother, being here.Â
He focuses on breathing. Counting to ten. Then another count to ten, out loud, but a whisper hushed into his mumâs shoulder.Â
Henry could hear her concern, he swallowed.Â
âItâs okay....nothing. Nothingâs wrong.â He tells her, regaining some composure, his eyes still stinging with tears.Â
âItâs like I could see everything iâve ever done...all at once....like a television show fast forwarded...â
He puts a hand cautiously to his hair, to push his hair out of his face. Heâs still on his knees, as is River --- and he doesnât let go of her, tentatively his hand entwined with hers, just taking her in.Â
He did know her, this face, though it was like he had glimpse it some other place --- the Doctor.Â
This was the Doctorâs doing, he was sure of it. Maybe, he had shown him a picture, but he knew. He knew this was River, or maybe it was just because he was her son, and he could find her anywhere in the universe, just as she had found him today...
He looks at her a bit more intently, reading those tear-filled eyes. âIâve not seen this face before, itâs....itâs very pretty mum.â