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The lights in the TARDIS brightened as the Doctor and River stepped inside, hand in hand. A cheerful whir emanated from the console.
River chuckled and pressed the Doctor’s hand. “I think she’s happy to see me.”
“She’s happy that you’re staying.” He looked over at River, the sight of her bright smile causing a similar grin to tug at his lips. He still couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. River was here, and she was staying with him for twenty-four years. Even to his time sensitive mind, the thought was dizzying. “You never stay for long,” he continued, softer. He turned to face her and squeezed her hand, staring right into her bright eyes. “She misses you.”
River shook her head, exhaling in a huff mixed with an ironic chuckle. “I’m still waiting to wake up and realise that I’ve been dreaming.” She reached her free hand around his neck, her fingertips stroking his curls, and looked at him in wonder.
Despite the feeling of pleasure at her delicate touch that was becoming rather familiar, a wave of guilt overwhelmed the Doctor’s senses. All this time, after all they had done, River had no idea how much he loved her. How many times had she dreamed of moments like this because he had always left her alone to rush to the next adventure? How many times had he abandoned chances to tell her and show her just how much she meant to him?
He met her gaze and sighed. “I don’t think I could ever make up for all the mistakes I’ve made in being your husband. But maybe, in twenty-four years, I can at least make a start.” A frown came unbidden to his lips as he worried if he had said the right thing. Conveying emotions—especially these kinds of emotions—was not one of his strong points.
River smiled and stretched up onto her toes to peck a kiss on his lips. It came on so fast that the Doctor didn’t even have time to process what had happened, let alone respond to it. River pulled away with a smirk, her eyes on his lips, as if she were contemplating repeating the gesture.
The Doctor tugged on his collar as warmth began to creep up his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Still not…used to it in this body.”
“Well.” River’s smirk grew into a mischievous grin as she drew closer once more, the tip of her nose brushing his. “We’ll just have to fix that,” she whispered, her breath washing over his lips.
The sudden proximity made the Doctor’s gut clench. Part of him was ready to turn and run from the outright flirting, while the other part wanted to just give in and close the small gap between them to kiss her.
However, River moved first, withdrawing from him with a chuckle as amusement gleamed in her eyes. No doubt she could just about read his internal struggle. “You’re still you,” she stated. Her gaze softened and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.
Caught off guard by the sudden change in mood, the Doctor hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace and pulling her close. “What do you mean?”
A teasing note crept into her voice. “Equal parts fear, awkwardness, and desire,” she stated simply. “It’s always that way with you.”
The Doctor felt his cheeks grow a little warm and began to retort, but River cut him off.
“Listen to those hearts speed up.”
He could almost feel her grin, though her face was still hidden in his shoulder. “River!” he reprimanded. He could have gone on then about the differences between the words desire and love and how she had absolutely used the wrong one, but he dismissed the thought and just smiled instead. Though he hated it sometimes, he had missed her teasing. He had missed her.
River laughed lightly, turning her face into his neck and hugging him tighter. Her chuckles faded into a sigh and she shifted her head again, her curls tickling his chin. The Doctor rested his head against hers and echoed her sigh, pressing her closer to him. Moments like this had always been so rare; the quiet moments when they weren’t rushed, when they could spend as long as they wanted in each other’s arms. But now they had twenty-four years. Twenty-four years of this.
As the Doctor’s train of thought passed, his gaze wandered to the TARDIS console. An out of place blob of red caught his eye, and suddenly he remembered the item that had appeared there after he had gotten dressed for dinner. The TARDIS must have created it, just as she had made the last one.
“River,” he murmured, gently extracting himself from her hold.
She looked up at him with a weary smile. The Doctor had almost forgotten that River needed sleep. Not as much as an average human, of course, but still much more than a time lord.
He filed the thought away for later and smiled back at her. “I have one more thing to give you tonight.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Another present?”
He shrugged. “To make up for all the other Christmases.” He turned toward the console, but then had a thought and spun back around. “You have to close your eyes.”
River obeyed him, a light smile still on her lips. The Doctor jumped to the console and grabbed the diary in his hands. He gazed at it for a moment, running his fingers over the smooth red cover that matched the colour of one of his coats. For a moment he let his mind wander back to when he had first picked up River’s TARDIS blue diary from the console, so long ago. He had recognised it immediately from the library, a painful reminder of where their relationship was doomed to end.
But this diary held no such connotation. This new diary, he had guessed, was for the coming years they would spend together, a way to record the best memories throughout all twenty-four years.
The Doctor smiled at the book and walked back over to River, holding the present out in his hands. “You can look now.”
Her eyes met his briefly before they traveled down to the gift. She gasped and took the diary into her own hands, running her thumb over the square-shaped grooves embossed in the cover. She pressed the book against her chest and looked up at him, her eyebrows raised and her eyes wide with wonder and surprise.
“I think you’ll find there are just enough pages for twenty-four years,” he said in response to her unspoken question.
She leaped forward to hug him again, and this time he was ready to catch her in his arms. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her around the waist and then pulled away, noting her tired expression once again. “I’m sure the TARDIS has kept your room tidy,” he said, pulling away. “You should get some rest.”
River grabbed his hand. “Will you come with me?” she asked, her eyes exuding innocence.
The question seemed harmless enough, but the possible implications made the Doctor’s ears grow warm. So many responses zipped through his head in a moment; anything but admitting he was scared.
“I have some repairs to do,” were the words that came out of his mouth. His hearts dropped in time with River’s expression.
Still a liar. Still a coward.
Yet he continued, albeit with a little less conviction: “The TARDIS is worn out from the whole ordeal with not being able to take off, and then Hydroflax rampaging around inside her…” He slipped his hand from hers lest his palms start to sweat.
The disappointment on River’s face was such a contrast to the smile that had been there all night that the Doctor nearly apologised right then. But he kept his mouth shut. He was too stubborn, too scared. Always.
“Do I at least get a goodnight kiss?” River asked, interrupting his thoughts. The shadow of a smile ghosted across her lips.
The Doctor cupped her chin in his hand and bent forward to place a kiss on her forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment and brushed his thumb over her cheek. Though he might be complete rubbish at this whole husband thing, he hoped she still knew that she meant the universe to him.
River’s expression was lighter when he pulled away. “Goodnight, Doctor.” She turned and walked toward the TARDIS corridor, casting one look back at him over her shoulder.
“Goodnight, River Song,” the Doctor murmured to himself as River disappeared down the corridor.
The TARDIS seemed much too quiet. Even the engines had grown silent, and the console emitted no signs of life. The Doctor spun in a slow circle, looking over the motionless console room.
His thoughts swirled. She’d leave him. She had to. He could never live up to who he wanted to be for her, so she’d leave him all alone again in his empty TARDIS…
His hearts quickened. He tried to inhale a cleansing breath, but it seemed to get stuck somewhere in his throat. He reached up to his collar and tugged on it, letting air pass through to his skin. With a sigh, he found he could breathe normally again.
The Doctor braced an arm on the console and rubbed a hand over his face. This had been happening more often of late, ever since…since her . Vastra had told him it was a symptom of intense grief or fear: a panic attack. He had scoffed at her. He could never admit the truth to anyone.
He was terrified of being alone.
He clenched the edge of the console until his knuckles turned white, focusing only on the sight of his hands and the pain in his fingers. All other thoughts scattered from his brain.
Finally, he relaxed his muscles with a sigh. There were plenty of things to do that could occupy his mind. He pictured his guitar in his hands, his fingers wandering freely over the frets.
But the song forced itself into his mind, pushing away the calming thoughts. The only song. Her song. It took over every thought, weaving itself into his bloodstream, overwhelming every sense, drowning him in sadness, hopelessness…
The Doctor shook his head and pulled himself from the trance. He still couldn’t play guitar, then. He wondered if he would ever be able to again; the song seemed to be a part of him now, a painful reminder of what he had lost.
Before the earworm could return, he turned his mind on something else. He reached inside his coat and grabbed his sonic screwdriver, turning it over in his hands.
Just over two hours later, the Doctor had taken the screwdriver entirely apart and put it back together perfectly (apart from one extra piece he wasn’t sure about), calculated thirteen almost certainly impossible attachments he could create to finally make the instrument compatible with wood, and eaten an entire bag of jelly babies.
The Doctor stared at the sloppy mechanical sketches scattered around him and rubbed a hand over his eyes. When was the last time he had lain down? He couldn’t even remember. It really was time for a rest…
He let his screwdriver drop from his hand and clatter onto the grating.
“What am I doing?” he asked himself. River was just down the hallway. He had promised to spend twenty-four years by her side. He needed her, and by the way she had looked at him, she surely needed him too. And yet here they were, both alone, because he had felt uncomfortable and hadn’t said a word about it. He clenched his hands into fists. He was such an idiot.
Stuffing the screwdriver back in his pocket, the Doctor jumped to his feet and marched through the TARDIS corridor to River’s room. As he approached, the door slid open and the Doctor slowed his pace. He padded into the carpeted room, the layout faintly illuminated by a dim light in the ceiling.
River lay on her side in the bed, taking up half of the space on the mattress. Her hair, now undone and spilling over her pillow, covered her face from the Doctor’s angle. On the empty side of the bed sat an open diary. The new journal was open to the first page, and the Doctor could see the curves and swirls of River’s penmanship covering the paper.
The Doctor walked over to the vacant side of the bed and stared down at the entry. He read the first two words: The Doctor. He knew he could so easily skim through the page in a matter of seconds, but instead he reached down and closed the diary, setting it on the ground next to the bed. He would ask for River’s permission first.
He looked down at River’s face, framed by wild curls. With eyes closed, lips formed in the slightest of smiles, and her expression so innocent, he was reminded of who she really was: Melody Pond, the daughter of his two best friends. When he had failed to save her, she had become a weapon created to destroy him. But instead of killing him, she had fallen in love with him. She had married him.
The Doctor shook his head. Their story had always been so strange and twisted from the very beginning. He never imagined that it could ever be any different, that they could live a normal life. But now here they were: married, with no monsters to fight and twenty-four years to live through together.
The thought brought a smile to his face as he knelt down beside the bed. Silently, he unlaced his shoes and removed them. Next he unbuttoned his coat and tossed it on the ground, then loosened his tie and dropped it on top of the coat. He stood up and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. Taking care to create as little disturbance as possible, he slid underneath the blanket, leaving several inches of space between himself and River.
However, almost as soon as he had settled his head on the pillow, River scooted closer to him and curled into his side. The Doctor lay stiff. River sighed contentedly and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Goodnight, Sweetie,” she whispered.
The kiss seemed to free his body of all tension. “Goodnight, River.” His eyelids weighed down, and he found his blinks becoming longer and longer.
Definitely time for a nap… he thought.
The Doctor watched a figure with a head of brown hair disappear as it turned a corner. Somehow, he knew it was Clara, and this time he would see her face. He would know.
He ran to catch up with her, his hearts drumming a quick pulse in his ears. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead. His mouth dried out. Though he had only been running for a few seconds, it felt like he had been doing it for years.
The path they ran down seemed to never end. She always stayed just inches from his outstretched hand, never even turning her head to acknowledge his presence.
Finally, the Doctor couldn’t run anymore. He collapsed onto the pavement, pounding his fists on the ground as he landed on his knees. Blood trickled down the sides of his hands where his skin made contact with the rough pavement.
He had failed once again. He would never remember. No matter how hard he tried, she was always just out of reach. He would always be alone.
“Doctor!”
Was that her voice?
“Doctor.”
Was that her hand on his cheek? He tried to look up, to finally see her face, but his body wouldn’t obey the command.
“Wake up.”
River hovered over the Doctor, one elbow on either side of him, her right hand on his cheek. With his eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together, and fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body seemed to be tense in agony.
“Wake up,” she urged him, stroking her thumb along his cheek.
Finally the Doctor opened his eyes and blinked once, his pupils dilating as they immediately adjusted to the darkness. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he focused on her, as if he had been expecting to see someone else. One by one his features relaxed and River felt the sheets shift as the Doctor released them from his grasp.
“River?” he mumbled, his voice breaking on the second syllable. Though she was sure he was awake now, his gaze seemed distant, like he was still living in the dream, and his breathing remained quick and erratic.
“I’m here, my love.” While his expression had relaxed, he looked defeated rather than at ease. “You were having a nightmare.”
The Doctor shook his head and lifted himself onto his elbows. River sat back, giving him space. “Not a nightmare,” the Doctor muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face, “I’ve been having that dream for months.” He ran a hand through his hair and took deep breaths, using his other hand to reach up to his collar and release the top two buttons of his shirt. He sighed and hung his head, his breathing returning to normal.
River watched him silently, feeling his sadness and frustration as if it were her own. This was a practiced routine between the two of them; never once had she ever seen the Doctor get through a nap without nightmares, and she knew he always needed space before comfort. While she had hoped that these twenty-four years could be happier than the snippets of time they had spent together in the past, she supposed it was just too much to ask. He was the Doctor, and he was always in pain. But only in the land of his dreams did he ever face it.
“Doctor?” she asked quietly after a few moments.
He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing together.
River reached out and settled her hand on his arm. “You never answered my question.”
The Doctor’s eyelids opened slowly and his gaze focused on her, worn and weary. “What question?”
She remembered how he had looked on that balcony: the light reflecting off of the tears in his eyes, his lips pressed together to hold it all in. While she knew that he had been grieving over their last “night,” she had also noticed something else, something hiding much deeper. “Why are you sad?”
She could almost physically see the wall come up behind his eyes. His expression became unreadable. “You know why.”
“It’s not just me. There’s something else, isn’t there?”
He looked down, staring at his hands.
River added gentle pressure to his arm. “I know you traveled with someone else after Amy and Rory.”
He flinched. He looked up at her and a thousand different emotions seemed to flicker across his face: guilt, fear, sadness, and everything in between. This was a long, sad story, something he wasn’t proud of. Something that had been torturing him for a long time.
“I’m not going to make you tell me, Doctor, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
His eyes widened. River shifted her hand to his cheek again, and this time he leaned into her touch. His expression slackened. “I was going to wait to tell you; wait until we had spent some time here together. Wait until it became more bearable.” He sighed, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “But I don’t think it will.”
She could read the fear in his eyes as clear as if he had confessed it. “I’m not going to leave you.” He leaned away from her an inch and his eyebrows rose in surprise. She had hit it right on the mark, then. He had always secretly been afraid of being alone. Well, he thought it was a secret.
“I love you,” she continued, “and nothing will ever change that.”
He attempted a small smile and then leaned away from her to rest the back of his head against the headboard. He crossed his legs and clasped his hands together in his lap.
River copied his position and sat next to him, leaning her shoulder against the headboard.
The Doctor looked down at his hands, wiggling his fingers. “Her name was Clara,” he began. “I think she was my best friend.”
“Think?” River asked quietly, catching that crucial word.
He shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
The pain in those words was enough to make River reach out and grab his clasped hands. To her surprise, he took her hand in one of his and squeezed it.
“It was my fault,” he continued, staring at their interlaced fingers. “If I wouldn’t have let her get so reckless, if I wouldn’t have gone so far to save her…”
“You’re talking about her as if you remembered her.”
The Doctor huffed. “I remember that she was with me. I remember things that we did. But it’s not…it’s not like I was there. It’s like reading a book. I don’t remember the emotions, the feelings that I had. I don’t remember her face. I don’t remember her voice, or her laugh.”
River pressed his hand, waiting. Hesitant at first, he began to tell the tale of a girl who had saved his life countless times, a girl who had pulled him out of his darkest years. He told her about the trap street and Clara’s thoughtless choice, about how the time lords had sent him into his confession dial.
“How long did they keep you there?” River asked when he explained how he escaped the prison.
He glanced at her and then returned his gaze to his lap. He pressed his lips together.
“Doctor?” she prodded, beginning to fear the answer.
“Four and a half billion years,” he stated, his voice so soft she could barely hear him.
River gasped. She pulled her hand from the Doctor’s and balled it into a fist. If any other time lord had been in the room, she was sure she could have ripped their throat out.
“How could they do that to you?” she exclaimed. “You saved them. Your own people, and they—”
“River,” he said calmly. He looked at her, raising his eyebrows as he reclaimed her hand. “I know. But I had to stay there.”
She shook her head, exhaling in a huff. “What do you mean? They trapped you.”
“They wanted information. About the Hybrid. If I would have given it to them, they would have let me go. But I had to get to Gallifrey.” He sighed, hanging his head. “I had to try and save her.”
“What did you do?” River whispered, her anger morphing into sorrow. She couldn’t imagine the Doctor being in that place for so long, and yet, the Doctor always loved so much, with everything he had, that she had no doubt that he had done all of this to save his companion.
He continued in his story and told her that he had been on Gallifrey, had spoken to Rassilon, and had become Lord President by hardly even saying a word. He made it clear that everything he had done had been for one purpose: to bring back Clara.
“They extracted her just before her death,” he explained. “I tricked them and told them that I needed her for information about the Hybrid. And then we ran.” The muscles in his jaw tensed and he squeezed her hand hard. “I killed the General so that we could escape.”
“He was a time lord,” River offered, though she knew it would do little to console him. “He regenerated.”
“It doesn’t make it any less of a murder.” After a moment he sighed and went on. He explained how he and Clara had escaped in a TARDIS. How her heart still hadn’t started beating. How he had formed a plan to wipe her memory, only to have it backfire when she bested him.
“And so I went looking for her,” he continued. “I don’t know how long it’s been, but I’ve been searching. I keep finding myself in places I know we’ve been. I keep almost remembering...but everything is just out of reach.”
River remained silent, thinking through all that had happened. She wished she could blame someone, a god or something, for punishing him once again where it hurt the most. But it wasn’t the work of a malicious deity she could march up to in order to give it a piece of her mind; it was simply the unfairness of the universe at work.
When she did speak, all she could manage was a soft whisper. “I’m so sorry, Doctor.”
He met her gaze, his eyes filled with pain and loss. “She took my memories away so I could let her go.” He shook his head. “But I can’t.” He pressed her hand between both of his, letting out another sigh.
River placed a light kiss on his cheek. “You don’t deserve this,” she murmured. “My love, what can I do?”
His body began to shift and River drew away, but before she could move very far he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. The embrace squeezed the air from her lungs in a single huff of air before his arms loosened. River sat stunned for a moment before she was able to wrap her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” the Doctor mumbled after a moment.
“Sorry?” How typical of him to relate such a painful story and then apologise.
“For last night.”
It took River a minute to remember what he was talking about, as her head was still full of the Doctor’s story. She had almost forgotten how he had left her alone. She lifted her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes, though she hadn’t realised quite how close he was. To find his bright blue eyes only inches in front of her stunned her into silence for a moment, and all she could do was stare. There were so many times she had thought to herself that a person could get lost in those eyes, in their depth and timelessness.
River cleared her throat and recovered her thoughts. “This is going to take some getting used to for both of us.” She nestled herself in his arms and ducked her head under his chin. “I’m not cross about it.”
“But I am. I promised you that I’d stay and then I left you alone.”
“You were scared.” She reached up to stroke his cheek and he looked down at her. She couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve always been afraid of me.”
He chuckled half-heartedly, confirming her suspicions. “That’s how you’ve wanted it.”
“But not like this.” She sat up, reaching above her to frame the Doctor’s face with her hands and guide his head down so she could meet his eyes. “All I want is to be with you, like this, without anything in between us. You carry the weight of the universe on your shoulders, but it doesn’t have to be a wall that you put up.” She looked into his eyes and hoped that he could read the feelings that were too strong to express in words. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”
The Doctor didn’t smile, but in his eyes she saw gratitude, hope, and…love. “River,” was all he said, leaning forward to press a tender kiss against her forehead. River closed her eyes. Her heart drummed hyperactively in her chest. How did he manage to be so…so sexy without even trying?
“It’s not sexy,” the Doctor muttered with a frown as he pulled away. “It was supposed to be…” The frown deepened as he searched for a word. “…not sexy.”
“Mind reader now, are we?” River chuckled, looping her arms around his neck again and turning into his chest.
The Doctor’s arms held her close. “Just a very good guesser.”
River attempted to think of another witty remark, but her body, being relaxed, warm, and comfortable, had already begun sinking into unconsciousness again. She buried her face in the Doctor’s shoulder and let her eyes drift closed. She felt the Doctor’s lips press against the top of her head.
“Sleep well, River.”
And she did, for the first time in a very long while.