Work Text:
The silence in the car is like an angry, living thing as River maneuvers Grayle’s vintage boat of a car through the empty New York streets. Sitting in the backseat and trying desperately not to worry about her husband, Amy does her best to make herself invisible. It isn’t difficult to do considering the other two occupants of the car are too focused on each other to pay her any mind.
River refuses to even glance in the Doctor’s direction, her hands tight on the steering wheel and her jaw clenched tightly as she keeps her eyes firmly on the road in front of her. Amy can tell she’s fully aware of the Doctor’s continuous peeking glances at her, like a kicked puppy wanting to be let back into the house. She bites her lip against a grin as she watches him fidget in his seat, stealing another glimpse of his wife with increasing desperation to be noticed. She wonders if he realizes River would rather befriend a Sontaran than be the first to break.
Finally, he clears his throat, looking at River hopefully. She doesn’t even blink. He sighs, slouching a bit in his seat to pout. He looks really pathetic but Amy can’t bring herself to feel sorry for him. Whatever happened between him and River when she went to look for Rory resulted in her daughter breaking her own wrist for the Doctor and whether he fixed it or not does not erase that haunted look from River’s face that not even a hug from her mum could fix. The Doctor is her best friend, but River is her daughter, and Amy isn’t in the mood to be forgiving.
River is the epitome of calm as she drives with alarming speed through the damp streets glistening with rain, and the only way to determine exactly how not in the mood she is for her husband is her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Either totally oblivious to this glaringly obvious signal or feeling too reckless to care, the Doctor tries a tentative, “River -”
“Not now,” she snaps.
Amy purses her lips and raises an eyebrow. Oh, he is in so much deeper than she realized. If only Rory were here to – no, not thinking about Rory right now. She breathes out steadily through her nose and pushes away all panicky thoughts. The Doctor and River are here, and with the two of them combined plus her own determination, there is absolutely nothing in the universe that can harm Rory Williams. She clings to that thought and returns her attention to the drama unfolding in the front of the car.
The Doctor has gone back to pouting, and his bottom lip is actually sticking out a bit as he stares at his knees with a wounded expression. It’s a good job River isn’t actually looking at him; otherwise her resolve would probably crumble at her cute little high heels. She suspects River knows that already, and it’s exactly why she hasn’t looked at the Doctor once. Amy knows the feeling. Holding onto anger is a difficult thing around their boys – the only way to stay properly furious is to avoid eye contact.
Unfortunately for River, the Doctor isn’t one to just give up – at least not for long. After another moment of feeling sorry for himself, he squares his shoulders and straightens his bowtie. Amy’s eyes widen in alarm. Oh, look out, River.
He glances over his shoulder and she quickly averts her eyes to the window next to her, bouncing her knee nervously as she pretends to be utterly focused on the buildings passing by. Look at that, what a nice street lamp. Oh, what a pretty puddle. Amy furrows her brow, affecting a fascinated gaze toward a shadowy stoop. When he’s quite sure she isn’t paying him the least bit of attention, the Doctor turns back to the front seat and after a moment of hesitation, scoots just a little closer to his wife.
River stiffens.
The Doctor swallows, then slowly, as if approaching a snake that could strike out at any moment to protect itself, he scoots even closer until he’s nearly pressed against her side. Silently admiring his bravery, Amy keeps her body turned toward her window but fastens her gaze directly on the troubled couple in the front seat. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment and neither does River, but he keeps close to her side, his cheek brushing against her hair. After a moment, River starts to relax, her grip on the steering wheel loosening ever so slightly as she grows used to the Doctor’s proximity. Impressed because it looks like her Raggedy Man knows more about marriage than he lets on, Amy watches in quiet fascination for his next move.
He steals another glance back at her and she quickly turns to the street outside her window again, frowning in thought. Satisfied no one is going to witness his groveling, the Doctor turns back to his wife and nuzzles his face into her hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, sounding like a contrite little boy.
River still doesn’t look at him. “For what?”
The Doctor pauses. “For being an idiot.”
Through the rearview mirror, Amy glimpses River biting back a smile. “Yes, well. Care to be more specific?”
He sighs, his breath stirring the curls by her ear. “For leaving you with the angel.” He swallows, sounding pained. “And for making you break your own wrist. River, I’m so-”
“I’m not angry about that,” she interrupts quietly.
The Doctor frowns. “What? Why not?”
“I’m just not.” River shrugs lightly. “Getting hurt is a hazard of being married to you.”
The Doctor blinks at her, devastated, and Amy figures River might as well have slapped him again. “River -”
“I did what I did because you needed to believe you could change things,” she says softly, as if she’s trying to keep Amy from hearing her. “I would do it again in a second.”
The Doctor scowls. “You shouldn’t -”
“Maybe not, but I did and I will again.”
He growls, grumbling under his breath for a moment. Then, he snaps his head up and studies her intently. “If you’re not angry about that then what -” He inhales sharply, his eyes growing wide and his mouth thinning into an angry line as he hisses, “If you think I’m going to apologize for healing your wrist then you really are a psychopath.”
Amy flinches.
River finally turns to look at him, glowering. “It was a broken wrist, Doctor! It would have healed! You wasted-”
“You are not a waste,” he snaps, his voice a low growl. “And if you’d let me I would give half of your regenerations back to you so I’d never have to go a bloody day without your infuriating mouth.”
River glares at him, blue-green eyes burning in her fury. “Don’t you dare.”
The Doctor raises an eyebrow at her, looking amused. “How are you going to stop me?”
“Spoilers,” she spits out with none of her usual good humor, and her grip on the steering wheel tightens once more as she frowns at the road ahead.
Obviously no longer caring whether Amy is watching or not, the Doctor reaches out a hand and places it over River’s newly healed wrist on the wheel. With a gentle touch, he pries her hand away and brings it toward him, handling it just as delicately as he had when it had been broken and bleeding. He brushes his thumb over the inside of her wrist and even from the backseat, Amy hears River swallow audibly. He bends his head and presses his lips to her skin, a kiss so heartfelt and achingly tender Amy feels her chest tighten. It’s another silent apology for her wrist and for whatever happened when Amy left the room, but she and River both know it is nowhere near an apology for healing it.
Still holding her wrist, the Doctor looks up at his wife hopefully. River sighs, softening almost instantly as she glances at him and sees his wide, wet hazel eyes gazing at her with equal parts adoration and remorse. “I’m sorry for slapping you,” she admits quietly.
He beams at her as if she’d just offered him a lifetime supply of fish custard, his whole face lit up from within, and Amy wonders if any man has ever been quite so enamored with his wife as the Doctor is with his. “Forgiven, honey,” he says, and releases her wrist to stroke her hair. “Always and completely.”
River nods once, obviously struggling to be unaffected, and as she turns back to the road, the Doctor leans in and presses a smacking kiss to her cheek. Staring at the proof right in front of her that her daughter is in capable, loving hands, warmth fills Amy from the inside out and she quickly blinks away grateful tears. She hadn’t been able to make that promise to her child when she was a baby, but the Doctor can make that promise now. No matter what happens, Amy’s daughter – the Doctor’s wife – will be loved. She will be safe and cared for and protected. Always and completely.
Suddenly missing her husband more than ever, Amy glances out the window anxiously until the car makes a right turn, the tires squealing against the pavement as River halts to a stop in the middle of the street. The Doctor and River lean toward the driver’s window, studying River’s communicator, but Amy leaps from the backseat, climbing over the Doctor to stumble out onto the street. Waiting impatiently, she stares up at the flickering neon sign in the distance.
Winter Quay.