Work Text:
[Darillium]
The work on River’s second novel was a little more complex than the first, and she took her time in writing it. The Doctor volunteered as her editor again, for all that was worth. Since the big romantic ending of the first book, Brooke and John had moved on from their series of painful separations and passionate reunions whilst journeying across the universe, to being together full-time. And, well, the Doctor could see it was a bit of a fraught topic for River. Because in the story, there wasn’t a time limit on happy ever after, and they didn’t have an anchor keeping them tied to one place. They just had an open-ended, full, real life, with all the possibilities of daring new adventures and a family just beginning.
There was a vice around the Doctor’s hearts that kept tightening with every year that passed. And it wasn’t just the dread and pain and guilt of knowing River would have to die. It was knowing that he could ease the pain for her now, if he just told her what he knew. He might not know when, he might not know exactly how, but he knew enough to lift a huge part of the weight of the world from her shoulders. And he couldn’t tell her.
He went over it a hundred thousand times in his head, but he always came to the same dead end. Everything depended on maintaining the events of the Library. If anything changed, he risked unwriting their entire history, their relationship, their future, their daughter; possibly even unwriting the universe once or twice or half a dozen times along the way.
Knowing that didn’t make him feel any less sick and ashamed about lying to River. But he couldn’t figure out a way that didn’t put their timelines in jeopardy. He’d already told her to hold onto hope, that he’d keep trying, but every reassurance he offered her likely only put everything more at risk.
He finished the washing-up from breakfast and dried his hands. He could’ve rigged one of the cabinets long ago to skip the dishes back in time to before they’d been dirtied, but hand-washing turned out to be a very good thinking activity. And the Doctor had far too many things to think about.
He found River in the study, seated at the desk, staring down at the heavy spiral-bound copy of her completed second draft and frowning in concentration. She’d dressed for “not leaving the house today,” in a loose jumper and leggings with no makeup, and she had one leg pulled up on the chair, her knee under her chin. Part of her hair was pulled back with a pen jabbed through it, gold curls spilling out of the messy twist in every direction. She was breathtaking.
“How are you, honey?” the Doctor asked, pausing in the doorframe.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Oh, alright. Just doing another read-through, making some notes. It’s all the persnickety bits now. But I’ve gone over it so much it won’t stick anymore.” She let out a soft, tired laugh. “I think I’ve just done this paragraph six times without reading a single word of it.”
“Can I help?” he asked, walking around behind her chair to lean over her shoulder.
River tipped her head back to look up at him. “I’d love that.”
With her lovely face upturned to his, the little laugh lines creasing around her bright eyes, soft pink lips curving into a sweet smile, he had to kiss her. Couldn’t be helped.
After grabbing his specs from the desk, the Doctor curled up with River on the settee. He carefully extracted the pen from her hair, watching the soft spirals tumble down around her face. She glanced up at him, curious eyes peering through her lashes, and he was captivated all over again. He wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before he noticed the look of fond amusement spreading across her face and realised he was staring.
“Um,” he said, clearing his throat and tapping the pen against his finger, “let me know if you want to add any, uh, notes.”
She only nodded and ducked her head in an effort to hide her smile.
He started reading aloud. It was the chapter where Brooke and John took off on their first space adventure with their young child in tow— the universe didn’t cease to need saving because they were being domestic, after all. Well, there wasn’t time travel in River’s books, so of course they had to be on a schedule. For a few more years, in this reality, the universe could keep. The Doctor would come back round to it later if there was anything really important that needed doing.
He was three pages in before he realised River hadn’t made a single comment.
“Still with me, dear?”
“Hm? Oh, sorry, no— I mean, yes, I was listening, I was just…” she trailed off.
Clearly her mind was elsewhere. The Doctor laid the open book over the arm of the settee and wrapped both arms around her. “Well, go on then. I’m all ears.”
She rested her head on his chest and squeezed his arm appreciatively, but didn’t say anything for a while. He just held her and waited.
“Do you ever… think about what we’d do?” she asked finally. “What our life would be like, if we had more time, after tonight?”
The Doctor’s throat tightened. This was a dangerous thread to follow. It could only hurt, when he couldn’t tell her. “'Course I do,” he said gruffly, nuzzling his face into her hair.
“And what does that look like?”
“River…” he trailed off. How could he answer without making it worse?
“Sorry,” she said, too quickly; ready to change the subject and hide the damage. “I just—”
“No, hey, it’s alright,” he interrupted, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry. I want you to talk to me.”
Well, he might as well just tell her all of his far-flung hopes and improbable dreams. The good things always did hurt a bit, with them.
“I, uh, figure we’d travel together,” he began. “See the universe again, make sure it hasn’t fallen to pieces without us saving it every ten minutes. But maybe we’d set up base somewhere, to park the Old Girl on our days off. So we can come home together, too.”
“Trying to burn out the chameleon circuit already, switching her back and forth?” River asked, her voice sounding a little too breathy for teasing.
“Well, I’ll have you there to fix it, dear,” the Doctor replied gently.
She snuggled closer to him. “What else?”
“We could stay still a bit, somewhere that has proper days and nights and seasons. Maybe we’d park her on Luna, if you wanted to keep teaching there. Or on Earth. I could get a job. I could be a curator, maybe— you know I love museums. Or, or maybe I’ll be a professor too. So I can bother you at work.”
River huffed, in amusement or disbelief, he wasn’t quite sure. “You’d want to keep staying in one place? Even if we didn’t have to?”
“Well, we might have a, um.”
“A what?”
“A… reason.”
“And what would that be?” she nearly whispered.
“What would you like it to be?”
“Are we really talking about this?”
“I think we’re going to have to employ some more specific nouns if you want me to answer that question with any certainty, dear.”
She turned her face up to his again and her eyes were suspiciously wet, brows drawn together. He raised a hand to cup her cheek.
“Yes, alright,” he said quietly. “We’re talking about it.”
River let out a little gasping laugh of surprise. “But it’s too late now.”
“Well, we were just… imagining.”
“Is that really all?”
Oh, this was a mistake. He couldn’t tell her. He was only making it worse.
“Even if we tried now,” she said, her voice thick and low, “what happens in a few years? We’d have to break up our… our family. And I might not be... around.”
The Doctor tilted her chin up and leaned down to give her a chaste kiss. “Hey.” He kissed her again. “River, it’s okay.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. “It’s going to be alright,” he muttered, before his lips were on hers again, soft and lingering, trying to comfort her without the danger of words.
“How do you know?” she whispered when they parted.
Shit. “I...” —can’t tell you, spoilers? Too definitive. Too risky. He’d come far too close to telling her so many times already. —don’t know? Not very reassuring. Just wait and see? She’d see through that in a second. “I, just…um… I….”
Oh, fuck it. He kissed her again, quickly, and abruptly slipped out of her embrace, standing from the settee. “I’m not running. I promise," he said, locking gazes with her in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "I just have to check something, okay?”
“Okay…” River said, leaning on one arm to support herself in his sudden absence, concern and confusion in her red-rimmed eyes.
“Promise, love. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He dashed out of the study and down the corridor to the linen cupboard.
He should not have gotten into this conversation. But she just wanted to be able to talk to him about the axe she felt hanging over her head. She just wanted to know if she should dare to dream of a future. All these years approaching the end, not knowing. It would only keep getting harder. How could he do that to her?
The Doctor ran up to the console and the telepathic interface. She had to tell him something. This time, she had to. He dug his fingers in and thought of the River he saw at night: the one who was serene and lonely, who was always waiting. She appeared on the monitor, walking on a sunny beach, waves crashing and gulls calling in the distance.
“Darling!” she exclaimed with a grin. “Fancy seeing you in Space Florida. I usually get Babyface here.”
“Hello, dear,” he said, a smile spreading over his face in spite of his urgency. But he had to make it quick. “I’m afraid I haven’t got long, you’re waiting for me in the study.”
“Oh! ” she said, comprehension dawning clearly on her face. “Were we editing my second book?”
“Yeah, we were in fact— you remember this?”
She nodded with a wistful smile. “I wondered where you’d run off to.”
“Then River, please, tell me what the hell I should do," the Doctor pleaded. He rubbed his temples in exhausted frustration. "I hate this. I hate lying to you. Please, honey, tell me what I said.”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” She shook her head with a rueful little smile. “The last time I did this, it was with my dad.”
“The last time you did what?” he asked, puzzled.
“This is it, darling. This must be how you knew. This is when you told me I was going to die, and you were going to save me.”
“I did?” His hearts began to race. “And, and everything turns out the same? The Library and Milly and all?”
“Well, of course, since that’s how it happened for me.”
“Right— yes, okay. Right.” He laughed softly in relief. "But— why now? If you couldn't know before, what's different?"
She studied him thoughtfully, a ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Finally, she simply said, "Now I need to know."
"Would've been a pretty big relief for us both if you'd needed to know sooner."
"You know how it is, darling. It happened to me the way it happened, so here I am telling you the way it's going to happen, so that it'll have happened to me that way... never really sure who's in the pilot's seat, here."
"Pff," he huffed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Tell me about it."
"But you'll see soon enough," she added, with that spoilery smile.
The Doctor shook his head, watching her fondly. “River, honey— thank you. You've no idea— well, no, I suppose you do. But I just, I couldn’t leave it like this. I couldn’t stand it.”
“I know,” she said, smiling back at him. “You tried so hard to make it easier for me.”
“I know it still wasn't easy," he muttered darkly, closing his eyes. But, no. This was better, at least. He looked back up to his wife on the screen, golden as the sand and sunlight around her. "I love you, you know that?”
Her warm, lovely smile spread into a grin. “I do.”
He smiled back at her. “Right, I’ve got to go, sweetheart. But I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“It’s a date,” she replied, still smiling brilliantly.
“Thank you. Love you!” he was shouting over his shoulder and already running out the door.
He’d make it up to her. Tonight and every day and night for the rest of his lives.
River looked up when he burst into the study, her face still a picture of worry and confusion. He made straight for the settee and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his.
“Right, River, listen. I’m going to tell you what I can.”
The tiniest nervous smile passed fleetingly across her face, her eyes wide and focussed intently on his.
The Doctor clenched his jaw, screwing up his courage to force out the words. “What you were worried about with your diary. It’s true.”
“I’m going to die,” she said softly. She didn’t sound terribly surprised.
“Not right away, I think, but… I’m so sorry, River, I can’t stop it; I can’t change it,” his voice broke and he paused to try to recompose himself. “Not without risking changing our pasts completely.”
River nodded slowly, her face relaxing in acceptance. But that wasn’t what he wanted.
“But,” he went on quickly, squeezing her hands in reassurance, “that’s not the end. It’s going to be hard and we’re going to be apart and I don’t know for how long, but you won’t be gone, not entirely. I’m going to save you.”
“How?” she asked, looking at him in shocked disbelief.
“I can’t say— I’m not even completely sure yet. Just, trust me, please, River.”
“Always," she breathed, looking dazed. "And what happens then? After I’m... dead?”
The thought of the confession dial reared up in his mind and he choked it back down. There was no way he could prepare her for that. It was impossible. But she’d surely make that choice on her own, every time. That’s just who she was.
“I don’t know,” he replied, cringing a little. “Still working on that. But I’m going to make it work. I will not rest until I figure it out, River.”
She nodded. She trusted him more than he’d probably ever deserved. He wouldn’t let her down.
“It’ll be a surprise for us both," he said, with an apologetic smile. "I hope everything will be a surprise for us both, in the end. I hope after this we can be done with spoilers.”
“And... maybe one of those surprises is the surprise we’ve just been talking about?”
“Could be,” the Doctor replied, his treacherous face breaking into a grin without his permission. Well, not like that was a dead giveaway.
She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “How do you know all this? Were..." she swallowed and looked away from him, "were you there, when I died? Do you know how it happens?”
“I don’t think I can say,” he answered carefully. “I don’t think I can tell you any more, at least not now.”
“Okay,” River said quietly, looking down somewhere to the side of him, and nodding slightly to herself. “Okay.”
“Are you alright?” the Doctor asked, raising a hand to her cheek.
“I... think so. It’s just, a lot to take in," she said, her eyes meeting his again. "But darling, I’m not afraid to die. I never have been, really. I’m only afraid of not being with you.” She smiled, faint but genuine.
“You’ve always been so much braver than me,” he said softly, twisting one of her curls around his finger.
River leaned down and kissed him, slowly at first, but soon becoming more urgent, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer. He carefully rose from his knees without breaking their kiss, and wrapped his arms around her waist as she stood with him. She kissed him like she wanted to devour him, like she wanted to press in so close they could never be untangled from each other. That would be alright with him.
When they broke apart, both a little breathless, her eyes were wet but her smile was radiant.
“Well, I’m exhausted,” she sighed. “Want to call it quits on the editing for today?”
“Sounds good to me,” the Doctor replied, smiling warmly at her and bopping her nose.
___
They spent the rest of the morning watching some terrible mindless alien soap, wrapped up together on the sofa. The Doctor couldn’t even bring himself to complain about it. He was far more occupied with enjoying River’s warm body comfortably pressed against his, and the utterly immense relief of having told her the truth.
“So, this... surprise,” River mumbled when the show had stopped for adverts.
Uh oh. “What surprise would that be?” he asked with as much genuine innocence in his inflection as he could manage. He was spooned up behind her, so he might have a chance, with his face hidden.
She just ignored him, of course. “Any idea when that might happen?”
He sighed. “I never said it would—”
“Right, right, you never did,” she said dismissively. “So?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“So do you think we should… try?”
“Now?” he asked, surprised. “You’d want to, with seven years to go?”
“Well, you said you’d get me back.”
“I will,” the Doctor replied firmly. “But… I don’t know when. It could be a long time, River.”
“But I don’t have any idea what that will be like. I mean, physically. For me to come back to life. Do you?”
“Not… really.”
“So what if we can't do that, after? What if now’s our only chance?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. I never thought of that.”
“Well, it only took me half an hour. This is why you need to let me in on things.”
He sighed. “Believe me, honey, I know. I wish I could have done sooner. I’m rubbish without you.”
“I know,” River replied fondly. She rolled over to face him, throwing a leg over the Doctor’s hip and reaching up to run her hand through his hair as her eyes met his. “So, do you want to?”
He swallowed nervously. It would be wonderful, the three of them; he knew that already. It was still just sort of… terrifying, to go about it so deliberately.
Well, the going about it bit was no hardship. ...Thank god he hadn’t said that out loud.
“I’m game if you are,” he croaked.
The kiss she answered him with was definitely a “yes.”