#twelve river

[4022saved]

Dr Who Headcanon

the Doctor sneaks messages into books for River so she'll never get bored in the library.

If you're ever reading and something doesn't make sense, it wasn't for you, it was for her.

[dickter-who]

Nardole: doctor?

Twelve, crying: River used to call me "doctor"

Nardole: because it's your fucking name

[dickter-who]

river: you have beautiful eyes

the doctor: thanks I need them to see

[dickter-who]

Twelve: you're on speaker. Behave.

River, over the phone: or what, you'll spank me?

Bill: *raises eyebrows*

[dickter-who]

Twelve, holding a pizza box: did someone order a pizza?

River: I did but I don't have any money *winks*

Twelve, walking out: then why the fuck did you order a pizza

[impulsivewrath]

Flickering Lights - SL with @HeelsAndCuffs

He watched as the doors closed behind her, and he watched her from the monitor screen as she disappeared from view completely. And maybe he even kept looking for a while longer after that, in case she would reappear, because he knew what turning away now meant. It was inevitable, of course, and maybe that was why it frightened him so much. To move, to stretch his arm out in order to pull the lever and pilot his ship away. Was she really engraved on his mind, his heart? The way she should be? How could he be sure of that? He'd like to stay and make sure; take one last look at her, as though one last time would suffice to say that he was ready at last to turn the page, to start a new chapter. But he knew himself too well. He knew that if she reappeared now, if their eyes met one last time, he'd ask for more. In fact, he would never leave again, he would think himself foolish for even indulging the universe's caprices instead of his own by letting her go.  Oh, how he would like to hold onto her until he saw fit, the way he had until now. And his trembling, wavering hand loved to put up a fight, begging him to come back to his senses. It hurt to ignore it, but what could emotions possibly do against reason?  He finally clenched his hand around the lever and without giving hesitation the time to settle in once more, he pulled it downwards. The roaring of the machines broke the chilling silence. "Time enough." He heard himself mumble, the words echoing through his empty ship.  For a second or two, it felt okay. To let go. To believe that he could do this. Even the usual noise of the TARDIS gave this moment a deceiving sense of familiarity, where he could pretend that he was only flying towards a new adventure, as if there had never been any finality in their goodbye and nothing dreadful was awaiting him.  Only there was. He looked up at the moving central column in horror when it hit him again, his hand letting go instantly as he took a step back.  "No…" He slowly shook his head.  "You can't." He thought about refusing. He thought about leaving, flying away in his stupid old box to the other end of the universe to go and impress the first being he would encounter there. Wasn't that what he did? Leave and pretend, always pretend that he hadn't been running away from any truth which he couldn't get himself to face?  But this time was different. This time, it was her, and he had a duty of care. He only fancied that he had a say in any of it when in fact his next destination had long since been set, and there was no altering it.  There was always postponing it. Going the long way round, but even then, the final destination was always going to be the same, whether he would go now, or later. And what was the point, in taking longer? She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve to be locked away in one corner of his mind until he felt like dealing with this one last dreadful moment. It just wasn't how it worked. Not with her. "You're cruel, you know that?" He gazed up at the ceiling, as though the universe was looking down at, and upon him with a mocking eye. "Cruel, always. Cowardice, is your favourite approach. Tricking people, into believing that they stand a chance. That the choice is theirs, but when it comes to it…"  He bit down on his lower lip and suppressed a grim smile, resting his palms on the console while he lowered his head.  "You take it all away. Their hopes. Their lives. Hers… Sometimes you allow me to spare them, but it's always temporary in the end, isn't it?" He stayed like that, and waited for an answer, to see if the universe would deign to give him one. But when the TARDIS landed at last in the middle of the silent library, he understood what the lingering silence meant. And it was no surprise. He lowered his head in resignation, lips thinly pressed together as he nodded. "She was magnificent."  Silence, once more, as he stepped out of his wooden box, with only the mechanical roaring coming from the central computer of the library reaching his ears. The one that now held her consciousness inside. There was nothing he could do about the vivid thoughts and echoes of the past from flashing before his eyes. If anything, his mind only raced further, and further, until it found the one memory he had so dearly wished to forget. The chair. The machine. Her. And him, so close yet still too far away to do anything. Hand lowered to his side again, he slowly, carefully, turned around, knowing what, and who he would see behind him, but hoping, dearly hoping that somehow, someone had come before him and had taken any evidence away. But who would? Who would ever feel like it was their duty to do it, aside from him? No one. Because the universe had long since made it his job to deal with the heaviest responsibilities that came with exploring time and space. Such a wonderful thing, but what a price he had to pay for the wonders.  She was there, of course, when he turned around at last. Still hooked to the computer terminal. The image in his mind wasn't simply a memory from centuries ago, it was, once again, very real, and very much unbearable. It seemed as if his aching hearts were still not allowed to rest and the more seconds past, the heavier they became. Whenever he thought he had reached his limits, he was proven wrong in the most cruel way.  He couldn't even fool himself into thinking that she was sleeping, resting, that he only needed to carry her back inside the TARDIS with him. No, instead of that, with every step he took towards her, his chest felt heavier, warning him to go no further.  "I have to."  He whispered, and for his own sake, he repeated it… until he was at her side. He watched, and he watched, but there was nothing. There was simply nothing. Just her, lying still, so, so very still that it was too unnatural for her, and made it even harder for him to break that haunting silence.  "Hello, Sweetie…" He whispered with a gentle smile as his hand moved to hold hers. But hers was cold, like the harsh reality that was already seeping in and stealing his foolish hopes away.  Because remembering those past events wasn't the worst; it was watching her, knowing perfectly well what she had done, and still hoping for her to move. Maybe to wake up and stand up, with his help; to walk with him towards the TARDIS and leave this godforsaken place behind.  "You know, I don't think I like happily ever afters… I hope that's okay." He closed his eyes, loathing the silence that was reigning around him. "It was never enough for us." He slowly, carefully, bowed to give her hand a soft kiss, before reluctantly letting go. He turned away, but walking away felt impossible. Instead, he sat down on the stair, back turned to the computer, to her, and brought his hands together in his lap. And still, he was only met by that same silence. "I don't understand how I am expected to do this, to turn away and never look back.  Is that what people think I do? Or maybe they think I've gotten used to it over time?  Well, here's the undying truth; there is no getting used to it. I'm sure that's very surprising." He smiled, trying to ignore how the place was devoid of any life as hard as he could, and trying even harder to forget about her lying there, a few metres away from him. "Some people walk away, and some don't. Because there's no fairness to life, or death.  All I can ever do is say that I'm sorry to people. Do you know how rubbish that sounds?" He turned his head to the side, but looked at nothing in particular.  "Because that's all I do, and that's all I am; an idiot, a traveller, who mistakes cleverness for wisdom, and costs people their lives. And the saddest part is that I'm the only one who gets to walk away. I don't give life, I don't even keep life. I take life away."  He never lost his grim smile, and he would have taken the silence as a confirmation to his words, but the TARDIS didn't let him.  A sound, a loud bang, coming from the ship itself, echoed through the room and startled him enough for him to look up and have his gloomy thoughts interrupted. He stared at his ship as the same noise echoed again and demanded his attention before a single tear would even dare to spill from his weary eyes.  "What?" He murmured. "What is it?" A third bang interrupted him.  "What?!"  He stood up as the lack of answers began to irritate him beyond belief. "What is it? Why now?"  He expected another stubborn bang from the TARDIS, but there was nothing, only confusion and anger which he didn't know to whom or what he needed to direct. Until he realised. "Oh…" He slowly turned to River, eyes wide with surprise, and with something dangerous, but definitely present, already glimmering in his eyes. "Oh please…" He faced the machinery again, his mind racing the way it usually did when he himself was running on pure adrenaline.  He took a few steps around the room, gripping his wild curls in a maddening attempt to try and make sense of any of his thoughts and see a possibility for this madness to work. And before he knew it, he was running back towards his ship, barging into the console room before he ran down the stairs to get to the bottom of the central column. "Nano- things. The bots. The things!" He yelled and looked up while the TARDIS hummed in response. "Stupid Doctor! How could I forget?!" He stared at the heart of the TARDIS and at the power locked within, what it could do to save her.  He looked up to the mess of wires under the platform he usually stood on, looking for one in particular, knowing now how to complete the hopeless plan to which he had never found a solution. When finally he found the one he needed, he ran back up the stairs and out of the ship, never slowing down, not even after almost tripping over the wire more times than he could count. He thanked the TARDIS for having landed so close to the main computer, and he partly suspected that she had actually known of a way all along.  He plugged the wire into the central computer that still contained River's consciousness, linking it to the heart of the TARDIS, before rushing back to the control room. He slid his hand over the lever that would start everything off, and left it there for a moment as he looked up to the ceiling. "Give her back."  He gritted his teeth, and finally yanked it down, holding his breath and not daring to move as the lights flickered around him with sparks flying from the console, knowing how much he was asking but refusing to stop.  "Nano-things." He whispered, and he hurried down the stairs again, realising that the sparks were just as bad at the bottom of the column as those that were flying from the console.  Hold on. Hold on, we're almost there." He muttered to the TARDIS, gasping when the container of the heart of his ship was now burning hot, but on his second attempt, he opened it anyway, knowing there was so much more at stake than a burned hand. And the Nanobots flew free while he gazed up at them in silence, wondering how long it would take them to figure it out. "Out there." He whispered, begging for those flickering lights to understand who he meant. Whose consciousness it was they were carrying, to whom they needed to return it. "She's out there!" He raised his voice as he grew impatient, because it was the only plan he had, and it couldn't fail. It couldn't fail because of some stupid bots that couldn't figure out who needed to be fixed. "There's no one else here but me and her, and I don't need fixing, so GO! Bring her back to me!" He growled, clenching his hands into fists, when the small lights still refused to budge. "I said GO!"  He raised his hand with one abrupt gesture, and the bots flew away, upwards, until he could no longer see them. He gazed to the floor, waiting for some noise, but the lights of the TARDIS stabilised, and everything went quiet once more.  Where had they gone? Had they vanished because he was too impatient, or because they couldn't understand what was required of them, where they had to go? Or maybe they had figured it out… Maybe they were fixing everything for him, so that nothing unbearable was required of him. He knew where the answer to his questions were. He knew he only had to go outside and see for himself. But for the first time in a very long time, he was petrified. He had rested all his hopes on this one attempt, and he felt how dangerous it was to see them get blown to pieces once again. Because he wasn't sure how he would react to that, if he was ready to accept that he wasn't a god, and that he couldn't meddle with complex things which the universe had long since put in place. Part of him even thought about closing the doors and leaving all his questions unanswered by flying away before any hope could be taken away from him. It would be easy, to keep wondering, to never look back, and to only hope that it had worked so that sometime in the future they would eventually meet again.  But for now? he just couldn't. Move. 

[lorenthefangirl]

When the wind stands fair and the night is perfect, when you least expect it, but always when you need it the most, there is a Song

The Doctor, The Husbands of River Song