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River has just finished getting the last of the crew safely onto the rescue ship and is about to leap aboard herself when she realizes the Doctor is no longer right beside her. Letting out a string of curses, she turns and runs back along the deck, scanning the ship frantically. “Doctor!” Her throat tears with the scream because the ship is about to blow, for God's sakes, and if they don't get off it in the next minute or so –
– No. She cannot think about that. So instead she calls again, sounding much more in control of herself this time, and is rewarded with an answering shout from the bilge. Ignoring the pounding in her chest she leaps directly down, grabbing the rope ladder at the last moment to keep from slamming into the floor. The Doctor is turned away from her, crouching over something in the corner.
“Sweetie, everyone is accounted for and this ship is about to blow, now let's go!” she snaps at him, hoping he only hears exasperation and not the fear that, despite her best efforts, keeps seeping in.
Luckily (in that sense, anyway), he's much too distracted by whatever is in front of him. “In a moment. There's something else—of course, there would be—should have seen it earlier—stupid...” He turns away from her, still muttering, running his screwdriver over the bottom panel. River nearly loses it then and there because the whole damn ship is made of wood, what the hell is he doing? As if she had said it out loud, he raises his voice to explain “It's not wood—well, not exactly—very clever, actually!—but close enough to be a bit tricky—just give me another mo--” and with one last flick of the sonic the panel pops open, revealing a tiny opening.
And oh, she can forgive him now as he reaches in ever-so-gently and pulls out two tiny, hunched shapes, blinking even in the dim light of the bilge. At first glance the creatures appear to be distantly related to sloths, with long furry limbs speckled brown, white and black. Without another word River reaches out and pulls the closest one to her as gently as she can. She winces at how easy it is, even for such a small creature.
“Hold tight to me.” She tries to say it softly, but the adrenaline is coursing through her veins – she refuses to acknowledge it's anything more than that – and time is running out. The small creature takes her instructions beautifully, however, and wraps itself around River's torso, head tucked in her neck and leaving both of her arms free for climbing. Sparing precious seconds for a quick kiss of thanks on the creature's head, she scrambles up the ladder, making sure the Doctor is following her this time, the second creature wrapped around him. As soon as they're both back on deck she takes off like a shot, running as fast as her body will go, dragging the Doctor along beside her.
They're almost at the edge of the deck where the rescue ship is waiting when she feels the blast rock the boards beneath her. There's no time to think, but her years of training take over. Bracing herself, she swings the arm still holding the Doctor's hand with all her strength and sends him flying, limbs flailing in surprise.
She jumps herself, only seconds behind him, but the boards beneath her are already falling, and River knows even as she's launching into the air that she didn't get nearly enough push-off to make it. Her mind stays blissfully cool and detached for a few more brief but necessary moments as she pries the creature from around her waist. The time for gentleness is over as she throws the creature at the Doctor's huddled form on the other ship. Oh, God, please let him be okay, she thinks desperately, the horrific thought keeping her just distracted enough as she's falling.
And then she hits the water.
Her mind and body, trained since birth to fight and survive, both betray her now. Her mind is a blind white panic as her limbs thrash wildly. The water is all around her and in her mouth and her nose and she cannot get away. She can't even hear the voice in her head trying to reminder her that she knows how to swim, damn it, because nothing can penetrate the endless screaming. She is sinking, sinking, and the water is dark and cold and oh God, she's going to die by drowning after all.
She can feel her body giving out on her and the tiniest part of her knows that if she could just calm down, she could still figure something out – there's always a way out – but even as she tries to think her air is running out and the dark is closing in. Finally, with the acknowledgment that there is nothing more for her but death, the screaming stops and she feels something almost like peace. Her last thought is of the Doctor, his hands on her face and a look of pure joy and wonder in his eyes. She feels a twinge of regret that they didn't have more time together, and then she lets go.
But she can't, because just as she tries there are long fingers wrapped around her hand, and she is being hauled back up to the surface. River is thrust above the water again and she begins coughing and sputtering, gasping for breath. As she tries to force air back into her battered lungs she can feel the Doctor's arms are around her, his voice a low murmur in her ear. “Good girl, River, that's it, come on, breathe, that's it, just breathe, come on, that's my girl, breathe River, just breathe.”
He's holding her in the water, the air pouring back into her lungs, and it happens all over again. Gripping her so fast she doesn't even have time for shame, her fear completely overtakes her. She begins thrashing against him, no longer able to recognize that the arms around her hold her as a comfort, not a threat. There isn't enough air in her to scream, but her throat tries anyway and an awful, broken noise makes its way out of her instead.
“River!” There is someone screaming her name, and part of her is trying desperately to claw its way to that voice, but there's too much terror in the way. “River, it's me! It's okay, I've got you! River! You're safe, I've got you! River, it's me! River! River, please!”
But she's not safe, she'll never be safe again. They will always find her, and it will always come back to this: forced back into the water over and over again. To her own increased horror she realizes that she is sobbing, hiccuping as her lungs continue to fight for enough air. She can barely remember the last time she cried this hard. She had told herself that she never would again.
Through her distress she is knocked against something solid, the arms around her hauling her up out of the sea. As her body leaves the water her mind clears, and she remembers that it is the Doctor's arms around her. The Doctor, who is never going to hurt her that way. He isn't speaking anymore, but she can feel his love and protection like a shield around her, and she begins shaking as the terror fades and the shame pours over her. Oh, god. She's nothing but a mess and she can feel her cheeks begin to burn. Screwing her eyes shut, she buries both hands in the Doctor's waistcoat and forces herself to calm down and breathe normally. There are going to be other people very soon and she needs to stop crying now. Breathe, you emotional idiot. In and out. Let's go.
The climbing pauses, and she can feel him looking down, but she is too busy fighting herself to be broken by his eyes. A thumb gently brushes against her cheek and she hears him let out a soft, broken “Oh, River.”
Eyes still tightly shut, her hand shoots out and grips his wrist, keeping his hand in place. “Please...I just-”
She feels the gentlest of kisses at the top of her forehead. “Oh, River Song. River, River, River. You are magnificent.”
Horrified and furious, her eyes shoot open in spite of herself. “How could you possibly say that--”
But he covers her mouth with two of his fingers and shakes his head. “Stop it. Don't you dare try to make this your fault or some sort of weakness, River. Don't you dare.”
She still wants to argue with him—because he's so terribly, terribly wrong and because she has been anything but magnificent today—but it isn't just the fingers on her lips or the look in his eyes that stops her. Her time in the water has left her bone weary, and she just doesn't have the strength right now for an argument. Sensing her resignation, he kisses her forehead again before pulling back. “Come on then. Let's get off of this dratted ladder.”
She nods and lets him go, twisting in his grip to climb on her own. He lets her, following just a few rungs behind so that the only time she looks back, all she can see is him. By the time they climb up on deck all traces of her outburst are gone and her face is schooled in a blank, cold look. She still doesn't trust her voice, however, so instead of acknowledging any of the crew she heads directly for the two small creatures she and the Doctor rescued. They're curled up together against the mast, looking even more ragged and scared out in broad daylight. River crouches down beside them, reaching out gently, and is warmly surprised when both latch themselves onto her, nearly knocking her over.
She can feel the Doctor behind her, his cold fury pouring over of the crew as they shrink from him in terror. When he begins to speak, his voice is flat and hard, and River shivers in spite of herself. “You nearly made me lose someone very precious to me today. Do you have any idea what your greed nearly cost you?”
River shakes her head and stands, the two creatures still clinging to either side of her, and heads for the bow. Usually she can handle this side of the Doctor just fine, but she doesn't want to hear any of his speeches today. She doesn't want to hear him tell other people how precious she is when all she's done is lose her head and nearly drown. The rescue ship is a large one, and River is able to find a place where she can stay out of the way for the rest of the trip without having to get too close to the rail. Tucking herself behind a barrel, River leans back and closes her eyes. Away from watching eyes, she begins shaking from a combination of adrenaline, terror and chills. Just as she thinks she's about to lose it all over again the two small creatures nestle against her and make a noise somewhere between a rumble and a purr. River hugs them to her more tightly, grateful for their affection and warmth, and slowly her body quiets. Her breathing finally evens and slows as she focuses on the feeling of the wind in her hair and the two warm bodies puddled into her lap. The creatures refuse to let go of her, even when the shaking has stopped completely, so River just strokes them gently and lets her thoughts drift.
She loses track of how much time passes before she can feel the Doctor approach. Opening her eyes slowly, she finds him looming over her, his expression still bleeding fury around the edges even as he gives her a soft, warm smile. He sits down beside her, miraculously keeping his limbs in check, and reaches out to stroke the creature closest to him. “How are they?” His voice is quiet, his eyes asking her the question that his lips do not.
She, of course, only answers his spoken question. “The both fell asleep awhile ago; it seems that all of the excitement has worn them out.” She smiles softly down at the balls of fur; she's grown painfully attached to them in such a short time. Must all of her emotions be running rampant today? She shakes her head to shoo the thought away and continues, “They're remarkably trusting for having been so terribly mistreated.” When the Doctor furrows his brows at her, she explains, “Their fur is dirty, matted and tangled, and it isn't hard to feel the lumps and scars underneath. It's hard for me to tell without being more familiar with this species, but I'm also guessing that the fact that I can feel bone structure means that they've been drastically underfed.” Her temper is rising as she speaks, and she fights the urge to walk back down the deck and start shooting everyone. The only thing that stops her is her unwillingness to disturb the two warm pools of trust in her lap, even for such a worthy cause.
The Doctor shakes his head in disgust. “The captain is lucky I didn't know all of this ten minutes ago. Still, he'll get what's coming to him.” When River looks at him questioningly, he runs a hand through his hair and continues. “They're uenatoos. Quite intelligent, and excellent at finding things that are valuable, lost or hidden. There's no reason for such treatment –they're friendly and incredibly loyal. I believe they're almost exclusively used as house-pets in this era, especially with the increased protective legislation put out at the end of the 11th century when they nearly became extinct.”
“If there was protective legislation put in place, why on earth would they be allowed as house-pets?” River demands.
The Doctor shakes his head, smiling slightly. “That's what they were originally bred for. There's always some protest group or something that tries to release them into the wild and let them run free, thinking that they're helping. All it does is get them killed. Uenatoos have never lived in the wild, and are too friendly and naive to survive. It just doesn't work, and beyond that, it isn't what the uenatoos want. Those who aren't killed and don't starve in the first few days just return to their owners.”
River looks down at the sleeping creatures in her lap. “You'd think a near death experience would make them want to look elsewhere for a home.”
The Doctor smiles sadly. “As I said, they're incredibly loyal.”
Realizing that he is staring pointedly at the two creatures in her lap, River clears her throat and changes track slightly. “Okay, so loyal, useful and smart. So tell me why we found these two imprisoned in the bilge, underfed and bruised.”
Something moves behind the Doctor's eyes, too quick for River to catch as he turns his face away and looks out to sea. “Ship captains tend to be particularly fond of uenatoos. Their finding abilities are particularly suited for treasure hunting, pirated or otherwise. They can also be useful for mapping out which harbors are the most valuable to dock in. Trained correctly, a uenatoo can perform all sorts of useful tricks.”
River's eyes narrow when he doesn't continue. “While that's fascinating, it doesn't exactly answer my question, sweetie.”
The Doctor's mouth shoots up in a quick smirk before becoming serious again. “The problem is, it's not allowed. Most of the legislation I was just telling you about is specifically concerning the use of uenatoos on sea-faring vessels—or, more accurately, the prevention thereof. This crew is going to be facing far worse than a heavy fine, I can assure you.”
It all makes sense, but River can tell that there's still a piece missing. “Sweetie,” she says with just a touch too much patience, “are you going to explain to me why it's so illegal, or am I going to have to force it out of you? It's been a very long day and I'd rather not, but if you don't spit it out soon I may need to get creative.”
Instead of teasing her, as he usually does, the Doctor turns to face her, his old eyes soft as he smooths a curl away from her face. “They're not allowed out to sea because they can't survive there, River. It means death for them, and everyone—especially the uenatoos—knows it.” River's eyes widen and she looks away, trying to keep her breathing even as she listens. The Doctor reaches out to stroke the back of her hand and continues explaining in a low voice. “Uenatoos can't swim –their fur is much too dense and their limbs aren't built for it –and the smallest exposure can be fatal. Even if they're rescued from drowning, their water-logged fur can still suffocate them. Either that, or their hearts give out from the shock.”
River blinks a bit too quickly –not because she's fighting tears, of course; it's merely the angle of the sun in her eyes. Looking down, she says softly, “But these two are still alive.”
She can hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, they seem to be quite the fighters.” There's a pause, but she refuses to look up until his hand leaves hers and gently lifts her chin. When she meets his eyes, the way he gazes at her makes her feel stripped open and bare, and she tries to drop her gaze again. But he opens his hand and holds it against her cheek, keeping her face tilted up to him. When he speaks, she can hear nothing but pride. “They would have died today without you, River.”
She swallows and shakes her head against his hand. “You're the one that found them. All I did was--”
“--Put their safety ahead of your own, even though it meant forcing yourself to face your worst fear,” he finishes for her.
River squeezes her eyes shut again, because she doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to think about how she didn't face anything at all. All she did today was nearly let it destroy her all over again. She shakes her head slightly because even now the memory brings the taste of salt to her mouth. Shaking her head again, harder this time, she blocks the thought and reminds herself that she is no longer in the water. She can feel the boards beneath her and forces herself back under control.
Both of the Doctor's hands are on her face now, but she cannot open her eyes. His voice is low and urgent, and she clings to it as she would a life preserver. “River, I promise you you're safe, I've got you. I'm here, I'm right here.” She nods, trying to tell him that she knows, but she can feel the shame flaming her cheeks and she cannot bear to meet his eyes now. He sighs and rests his forehead against hers for a moment before pulling back again. “Oh, River. You don't see it, do you? River, I don't know anyone who could have done what you did today. I don't even think I could have.” He's purposely leaving himself wide open for one of her barbs, and she wants to take it, but her lips won't move. He waits an extra moment before continuing. “You've overcome so much, River. You've taken all of horrors that this world gave to you and you still came out shining and I wish you could see yourself, River, and know. I want you to see yourself that way. You are so brave, River so strong, and today only further proves that. River Song, my River Song, you are amazing.”
She doesn't meant to argue, because she knows how stubborn he can be and she just wants this conversation to end, but at the last sentence she is shaking her head again in spite of herself, biting her lip to keep her emotions in check. She wants to be –oh, she wants to be, if only for him, the man who saw the girl behind the killer, even as he lay dying –but she isn't. Not today.
“River, look at me.” His voice is mere inches from her face, and she knows she can't refuse him this. Taking a deep breath, she opens her eyes and is startled by the shine in his eyes that she is sure is reflected back to him in her own. “I know that you think I'm seeing someone else, someone you don't feel like you are or can be yet. But I'm not: I am see you clearly. I see you, River. And I promise you, this is who you really are.”
She's still not sure she believes him, but he's gazing at her with something close to reverence and oh, she wants to. So instead of arguing with him any further, she leans forward and kisses him, opening herself to him. He returns the kiss warmly, his eyes closing as if her mouth against his is pure bliss. It only makes her kiss him harder.
They're both a bit breathless by the time River pulls away. She smiles shyly at him and murmurs, “Thank you.”
He grins at her and bops her nose. “Anytime, River. Anytime.” He looks up as the boat rocks. “Aha! Looks like we've just come into port.” He leaps to his feet so quickly she's surprised he doesn't trip over himself and reaches down to help her up. “Now let's go find the TARDIS and get you into something warm and dry.”
River stands as gently as she can, but at her slightest movement the uenatoos stir awake, their grips around her waist still remarkably strong. “In a bit, sweetie; we should find new homes for these two first.” She allows herself one fleeting moment of regret that they can't stay with her before letting it go. Prison is no place for such wonderful creatures, and they deserve, after everything they've been through, to be free. She looks up to find the Doctor watching her intently, and she can tell by the shadows in his eyes that he knows exactly what she was just thinking. Tired of being sad and serious, she bats her eyes at him and lowers her voice. “Besides, darling, I'm sure that you can think of much better ways to warm me up.”
Her words have the desired effect as he blushes and sputters, his limbs flailing. He's still trying to form coherent protests when she grabs his hand and pulls him down for a quick peck on the cheek and hauls him with her along the deck. He's unprepared for the tug, and River laughs as he flails to catch his balance. They manage to get off of the ship without any further incident, and River exults in the glorious feeling of dry land under her feet again. As River begins to weave her way through the crowd with the sun in her hair, the two uenatoos still latched to her side and the Doctor's hand in hers, she doesn't bother telling him that she's warm enough already.
But as she grins up at him, she sees in his answering joy that he already knows.