Memory of a Song
(NOTE: this is an angst fic that contains spoilers for the entirety of River Song’s arc, series 4 (Silence in the Library and Forest of the Dead), and series 5-8, as well as the series 9 Christmas special The Husbands of River Song. Not all material is canon that is quoted.) TW: death/regeneration, wrist mutilation (light)
The red streak startled him. Slowly, he rubbed his fingers over each other, spreading the lipstick onto his thumb, and pressed down as the wave of pain ripped through him. That color.
The plates clattered as he softly stacked them, full for the night. He looked up at her as she ate another biscuit, barely able to take her eyes off of him. With a rare smile, he reached over the table and lightly held her face with his hand. She sighed and leaned into the touch.
"Yes, sweetie?" She asked.
"Just making sure you're still here." He whispered.
"Ever after."
The towel was in his hands before he even noticed it, gently wiping at the smear on his fingers. He wondered idly if it would stain.
He held her face, his much younger now and hers much older. Slowly, he brought her cradled head to his and captured her in a soft kiss.
Even if my timeline kills me, he thinks, I will be ripped to shreds with River Song on my lips.
He rinsed off the towel, slowly wringing it out, and yet the red remained. Did it grow brighter the more he washed?
Her wrist was severely broken. Honestly, it was a wonder that she had gotten it out at all. But if anyone could, it was her.
The pain must be terrible, he thinks, and this thought above all is unbearable.
Gently, he picks up the swollen hand and concentrates deep inside himself. A warmth spreads through him, and he draws the sensation outward through his arms. Ignoring her angry protests, he calmly gives out the energy, healing her as she once healed him, as she will always heal him.
"Look into my eye." He made the Teselecta whisper. She started slightly, looking directly at him. Spinning around, he gave her a wink. His brilliant wife.
"When I was little, I was going to marry you."
"Good idea, let's get married. You stay alive and I'll marry you, deal? Deal?" He said frantically, trying to find a way to save Mels. He couldn't lose anyone, not again, not so soon after River, after the daughter of his best friends, after the strange and inexplicable woman who seemed to know everything about him.
"Shouldn't you ask my parents' permission?"
"As soon as you're well, I'll get them on the phone."
"Might as well do it now, since they're both right here." Mels said with a smirk, earning a confused look from all three of them. "Penny in the air." He watched in awe as golden light began to emanate from her. Who? How? Could she be... how... "Penny drops."
"What the hell's going on?"
"Back! Back! Back! Get back!"
Of course, he mused, that wasn't even the most interesting part of the day. The flirting, the poisoned kiss, the-- he mentally stuttered over the memory-- the voice interface, and of course, his revival. His secret. His moment of connection with her, the indescribable sensation of touching another Gallifreyan being. The towel was dry now, burning his hands as it rubbed against his skin.
The feeling of the silk shifted beneath his fingers, the thread molding to translate. He glanced down.
Oh, God. River.
"And Doctor River Song. Oh, you bad bad girl. What trouble have you got for me this time?" He teased in a low voice, shifting towards her.
The next thing he knew was a sharp pain as her hand whipped past him.
"Okay. I'm assuming that's for something I haven't done yet."
He looked down at the towel. Suddenly, all he wanted was the lipstick as far away from him as possible. He turned on the sink and sharply threw it under the tap before angrily rubbing his face, harder and harder, until he couldn't even feel it anymore.
He looked into her eyes. The impossibility. The mystery. The woman who, though he barely knew, had him wrapped around her finger. Not that he would ever admit it.
"Are you asking?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"No, hang on. Did you think I was asking you to marry me" --he ignored the tightening in his stomach-- "or, or, or asking if you were married?"
"Yes."
"No, but was that yes, or yes?" He tried to control the nerves that flooded over him.
"Yes." The one simple word stopped him where he stood for a second as the vision hit him. Holding onto her, having some sort of claim to explain why he craved her company, having her crave him back... No! Spoilers. He reminded himself. Smiling softly, he changed the topic.
"River... who are you?"
"Octavian said you killed a man." The question had been growing inside him ever since the Father had died.
"Yes, I did." She said, suddenly averting his gaze.
"Who?"
"It's a long story, Doctor. It can't be told, it has to be lived. No sneak previews." He had expected as much. "Well, except for this one. You'll see me quite soon, when the Pandorica opens."
This complex, wild woman, he thought. He'd barely ever seen her, but as much as he hated to admit it he couldn't stop thinking about her. He doubted he ever would.
In the mirror, his face was getting red and as raw as his hands. Shouting in anger, he threw the rag at the ground, stomping on it over and over.
"It's not supposed to make that noise. You leave the brakes on."
His eyes were burning as he picked up the towel and tried to rip it apart with sheer strength. When that failed, he bit an edge until it frayed and pulled from there.
"that woman is not dragging me into anything."
A rip appeared.
"Oh Amy, Amy, Amy. This is the Doctor we're talking about. Do you really think it could be anything that simple?"
The cloth snapped bit by bit as the towel surrendered.
"The Aplans."
"The Aplans?"
"They've got two heads."
"Yes, I get that. So?"
"So why don't the statues?"
Snap, snap, snap.
"Look at you. Oh, you're young."
"I'm really not, you know."
"No, but you are. Your eyes. You're younger than I've ever seen you."
"You've seen me before, then?"
"Doctor, please tell me you know who I am."
Snap, snap, snap. Snap, snap, snap.
"What's in that book?"
"Spoilers."
Snap, snap, snap.
"Who are you?"
"Professor River Song, University of--"
"To me."
Snap, snap, snap.
"Who are you to me?"
"Again, spoilers."
Snap, snap, snap. Snap, snap, snap.
"The Doctor in the TARDIS. Next stop, everywhere."
"Spoilers. Nobody can open a TARDIS by snapping their fingers. It doesn't work like that."
"It does for the Doctor."
"I am the Doctor."
"Yeah, some day."
Snap.
"It'll burn out both your hearts and don't think you'll regenerate."
"I'll try my hardest not to die. Honestly, it's my main thing."
Snap.
"The last time I saw you, the real you, the future you, I mean, you turned up on my doorstep, with a new haircut and a suit."
Snap.
"I've had a haircut. This is my best suit."
"It's not even a suit."
The towel broke with a sharp ripping noise, sending him stumbling back. He looked down at the halves, surprised back into the present. He took a deep breath and threw it in the garbage before washing off his hands. His face was red and blotchy-- had he been crying?-- but there was no trace of his wife's last kiss on his lips. Shakily, he put on his sonic shades and the trash can erupted into flame. He turned around from the broken man in the mirror and walked to the TARDIS as the remaining bit of River Song burned.
He didn't let himself look back.
fin
