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It had been bugging River for quite some time now. Almost every time he bopped her nose or caressed her cheek she remembered all the times he'd done those things and had to forget. It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair he couldn't remember that their first kiss wasn't outside her cell at Stormcage, or that the first time they had sex was a long time before his Eleventh self even drew breath.
It wasn't fair he knew nothing of their breakfast on the hotel balcony in that dreamscape, or their race through the streets of Vienna. Or cuffing her to that larder door and getting her sent to Newgate prison; she was still a little bit annoyed about it. He never even apologised.
But even so, all those wonderful adventures could hardly go unremembered forever. Perhaps there was something she could do about that.
The Doctor was searching the bookcases when River entered the control room. She watched him fondly until he noticed her. He smiled down at her from the balcony and she couldn't help smiling back.
"I was just thinking about when we put all this together," he told her. "Do you remember, dear?"
"No?" she frowned.
By the look on his face, it was clear he had expected her to say yes. Her frown became an even more confused frown.
"But you must do!" He looked slightly betrayed.
"I haven't a clue what you're talking about, darling," she confirmed.
"Oh, no! You couldn't, could you?!" he exclaimed. "Stupid, stupid Doctor!"
"Doctor, could you please explain what you're talking about."
"You hadn't met this me before Mendorax Dellora!" The Doctor bounded down the stairs excitedly.
"Yes, and?"
"Spoilers!" The Doctor kissed the top of her head and excitedly bounded back up to the balcony.
River, deciding it was best to leave it at that, went back out through the TARDIS doors and into the cottage.
River spent days working up the courage to talk to him about it. The time was never right, or she felt it would ruin the day.
It was getting ridiculous, she knew. It had gotten to the point where she was tired of simply not saying what was on her mind. It was now or never. She was going to talk to him no matter what.
River found the Doctor in the living room. He was sat on the settee, flicking through the myriad of channels on the telly. He didn't seem interested in anything he found.
River sat next to him and he turned his head to her.
"There's nothing on," he said.
"Is there ever?" she smiled her reply.
"No, quite right." The Doctor switched the telly off and dropped the remote on the sofa beside him.
River wasn't sure how to start the conversation. It wasn't exactly one that came with a stock phrase that you tended to use a lot. She supposed she ought to just get stuck in.
She fiddled with her fingers in her lap from the nerves. The Doctor noticed, his right eyebrow raising in concern.
"What is it, love?" he asked.
And there was her moment.
"It's just... well..." she struggled.
"It's just...?"
"It's just, well... there's a secret I've been keeping for quite a while now. And I think you should know what it is," River began. "You know you said the first time you met me was in your tenth regeneration, when you were travelling with Donna?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's not strictly accurate."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"We met before that. Quite a long time before that. I couldn't let you remember any of it, obviously."
"Oh... right." He stopped and looked a bit... well, River wasn't sure how he looked but she didn't like it. "I don't suppose that should be a shock really, should it?"
"Well, if you say so." She bit her lip.
"I mean, it'd be a bit convenient if that had been the first time, eh? A bit too tidy."
"Err, yes," River replied, relived with how well he was taking it all.
"However, I think there's more to it than that?" She noticed he seemed a bit nervous too, now.
"There is. I don't know how to ask you this."
"Do I want my memories back?" he grinned sheepishly.
"Indeed." River smiled brightly.
The Doctor shut his eyes tightly, trying to calm his thundering hearts. He didn't want to say 'no', and was terrified of saying 'yes'. With one final deep breath, he made up his mind.
"Yes please, if that's okay." His voice was shaky and he hated it.
But River didn't seem to notice. Smiling softly, she leant in and placed her hands on either side of his head.
In the Doctor's mind it was like a million explosions went off all at once. Bright, colourful, loud, emotion-drenched memories bloomed and blossomed in his mind, filling him until he was sure he was about to burst. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. River removed her hands from his head, and he was left with tears trickling down his cheeks.
The memories were flying about in his mind like pieces of paper in a hurricane, yet to be filed away and kept for eternity. They fluttered across his consciousness and he grabbed at them and chuckled and cried as he searched through them.
He relived everything, from Golden Futures to the Bumptious Gastropod. From the Dame Marie to the Exodus. And that last one left him blushing.
"Oh, gosh," he fumbled with his collar, eyes closed and still remembering.
River chuckled.
He remembered his leather-jacketed-self swaggering around a military base on a war torn planet. And River Song was there.
He remembered the cricketer-him having a match in a 1920s park on a nice, sunny day. And River Song was there.
He remembered the Mo-from-the-Three-Stooges one being locked up in a submarine. And River Song was there.
She'd even managed to worm her way into the Time War, bless her. He remembered Olistra had been very interested in her. She'd sent them on a few missions together that he'd entirely forgotten about until now.
And, oh the Eighth him was a naughty boy. It was quite a list, though he wasn't sure that Victorian carriage was entirely necessary.
But then he realised - the dress she'd been wearing that day, he recognised it from somewhere. Then he remembered... she'd been wearing it the day she helped him put up the bookshelves in the TARDIS. But she hadn't done that yet.
"There's..." he began.
"Yes?" River prompted.
"There's... quite a lot," he said finally.
River smiled. He'd barely even scratched the surface.
"Yes, there is," she agreed with an adoring look in her eyes.
"An awful, awful lot." His eyes glazed over for a moment. "You never told me you were in the Time War."
"I wasn't really, I just tiptoed around the edges."
"You call that 'tiptoeing around the edges'?" he scoffed.
"What do you mean?" River queried.
"Arrelixia Ultima? Remember? The crashed Dalek saucer? The horrific battlefield?"
"Nope. Not ringing any bells."
"Interesting. That keeps happening." He scratched his head.
"What keeps happening?' She was getting a bit irritated now, he could tell.
"Spoilers!" he beamed.
River sighed resignedly, then reached forwards to gather the cups from the coffee table.
"Right," she said as she pulled herself up from the sofa. "I'll make the tea."
She reached for the door handle when, all of a sudden, the Doctor shot his head 'round to look at her.
"But that one with the first me, the Mechanoid, and the trifle? You have done that one haven't you?"
"Oh, yes. I've done that one." She slipped out of the room.
The Doctor watched her leave then sunk back comfortably into the cushions.
River shut her eyes and let the feeling of the warm, still water relax her. She felt like she was drifting off to sleep, which was dangerous in a bath but she'd done worse.
The loud noise of the door bursting open bolted her awake. She sat upright and glared across the room at the Doctor who, realising what he'd just done, was looking down at his feet guiltily.
"I'm assuming you're interrupting me for a reason?" she said.
"That enormous octopus that was going to eat the Brigadier, can you remember how all that ended? It hasn't come to me yet."
"What are you talking about?"
"Those memories you gave me back, I'm not getting them all at once. I'll get a bit of one, a bit of another, then a bit more of the first. But I'm really impatient to find out how we
stopped the Brig from being eaten. It's a really cruel cliffhanger."
"I haven't got the faintest idea of what you're talking about," she told him and he looked very confused by that.
"But you must do," he argued.
"Not a clue," River confirmed. "I have never seen the Brigadier nearly eaten by an octopus. Cross my hearts."
"Oh." He scratched his head. "Sorry for disturbing you."
River frowned as he slipped back out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him. She was worried about the Brigadier now. She gave a defeated sigh as she gave up on any chance she had of having a relaxing bath that day.
And as what the Doctor had just said kept going around and around in her head, she dragged herself out of the bath and pulled away the plug.
The Doctor looked out over the singing towers as he painted them from the balcony. The breeze wafted through his hair while the towers sang quietly and all was peaceful.
He could get used to this, he reasoned. One day he could retire permanently and never miss the excitement of his old life. As long as it was with River.
Another memory came back to him as he swirled his brush across the canvas. One that made an obvious hole in his memory suddenly make sense.
It was when he was in his tenth regeneration. Martha was with him, and the Weeping Angels had just sent them back to 1969.
The Doctor had always wondered what he did back then, who put them up, who helped them.
The answer to all these questions turned out to be River Song.
And another thing became very clear. And that thing was the identity of the person she'd been seeing in Bristol.
The Doctor's hearts soared.
It was dark in their bedroom. The lights were off and there weren't any streetlights outside to glare in through their window. Everything was lightly touched by a dull glow coming through the curtains, and the Doctor was alone with only his thoughts.
He could just about hear River clattering about in the bathroom, and knew she wouldn't be long.
His forgotten memories had been coming back to him for a week now. River was sometimes confused, but usually amused by his sudden outbursts of reminiscing.
But what had come back to him now was different from all the others. Very different. It was all he could do to keep his hands from shaking.
Their daughter looked exhausted as she handed him his granddaughter for the first time. The baby was beautiful. All she had to do was wrap her little hand around his old finger to capture his hearts. River asked the exhausted mother what she was to be called. The tired, young thing smiled her reply. The child was to be called Susan.
The three of them ran into TARDIS bay Gamma as the soldiers searched for them. He grasped River and Susan's hands tightly in his, afraid of what would happen to them if he lost them now. The Hand of Omega followed, hovering along a short distance behind them.
River put her arm around him as Jamie McCrimmon, their dear friend, disappeared into the green TARDIS capsule to never be seen by either of them again. When they were told that he and Zoe would forget their travels, she gripped tighter.
Jo was frowning at them both just as the Brigadier stepped into their lab. River rolled her eyes and went over to hear about how the equipment they had asked for had been delayed yet again, graciously leaving him to explain their machine to Jo.
He smiled as River handed him the scarf she had so painstakingly knitted for him. He was ever so grateful. The last one had been entirely eaten by a plague of moths and he hadn't known how he would cope without it. He thanked her gleefully before wrapping it around his neck.
The Doctor knew she couldn't have been there for any of that. She wasn't his first and only wife. She wasn't Susan's grandmother. She wasn't there with him when he was exiled to Earth. So why did he remember it like that? And why did those memories seem so much more distant than the others. And why did the images blur if he concentrated on them too much? It didn't make sense.
The Doctor was still quiet when River pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. He didn't notice the frown etch itself into her features as she looked at him, or her shuffling closer to him.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I don't know," he sighed. "I just don't know."
"What don't you know?"
He shrugged.
"You were alright a moment ago," River added.
He nodded.
River watched him sadly for a couple of seconds before she lent back on the bed and pulled the covers up around her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.
"I wouldn't know what to say."
"Talk to me when you're ready," she told him before shutting her eyes and wrapping an arm around him.
"Yes, dear," he promised.
And with that, he closed his eyes again and tried to get off to sleep. Not that he had much chance of that.
River watched the sleeping children with kind, sad eyes. She put down the storybook as quietly as she could and stayed sat for a moment.
She'd had a lot of time to think in the Data Core. A lot of time. And a lot of time to remember, too.
Hardly any of those things the Doctor came out with on their 'last' night that he'd claimed were spoilers had actually happened. Hardly any of it.
Was he remembering a different timeline where she hadn't died? Was he lying and making reality what he wanted? Or was that all really still going to happen despite everything?
She had no idea and that hurt.
A cruel cliff-hanger, indeed.