Fic: Water Music (8/17)
Title: Water Music
Author: azriona
Characters: The Doctor, River Song
Rating: PG, so far
Spoilers: Big ones for Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead. Compliant with Journey’s End, but if you haven’t seen it, you won’t be spoiled.
Betas: runriggers and jlrpuck
Summary: The Doctor never expects to met anyone in a linear fashion. How he meets River Song is slightly more non-lineal than most.
Chapters One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven
Chapter Eight
It was two days before the Doctor finally slipped out of his Melancholy and became human again (relatively speaking). It had been among the longest two days of Alice’s admittedly short life to that point - the journey on the Judoon ship notwithstanding. What made it so incredibly long was that the Melancholy had been unlike anything Alice had ever witnessed - whereas usually the Doctor was fairly high-functioning, if needlessly sarcastic and cruel, during the two days he spent locked in his own misery, he’d needed prompting in order to do anything.
It was only because Alice lead him to the control panel that the Doctor steered the TARDIS into the Vortex.
It was only because she winced and led him to the medical bay that he fixed her shoulder permanently.
It was only because Alice handed him a spoon that he stirred the macaroni cheese for dinner.
By the time Alice went to the garden, because the smell of the apple grass and the soft rustling of the leaves calmed her and let her think, he followed her almost by habit. He sat on the grass, cross-legged, and spent hours staring at the vines.
He never spoke a word.
Alice brought him tea and scones and tried to read her book, but instead found herself thinking about River’s diary.
She hadn’t dared open it; she had no idea exactly when River was. Already, Alice had broken one rule, the most important rule: Tell River about the Melancholies. One stupid thing, and she hadn’t done it. She’d lost her nerve, lost her train of thought, had been crumpled on the floor of the console room with her head in the clouds. River slipped through the TARDIS door into the maelstrom before Alice ever had a chance to tell her about the Doctor, about his Melancholies, about the ghost he saw out of the corner of his eye....and now the chance was gone. Even with the TARDIS, she couldn’t go back on a timeline.
So the diary sat on her dresser, closed. Alice didn’t dare break another rule.
For two days, she fed the Doctor scones and tea and leftover macaroni cheese. She occasionally stood him up and walked him around the TARDIS, or left him alone in the console room where he could fiddle with the controls for a bit. On the morning of the second day, she shoved him into one of the lavatories with a towel and a clean suit and ordered him to shower.
She was halfway through The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (homework, after all) when the Doctor appeared in the garden again, wearing the new suit, his damp hair already beginning to fluff up from his head. She watched him through her eyelashes as he sat nearby, staring at the vines that weaved themselves up the walls, and much to her surprise, began to speak.
“I expect she stays mad at me for a while.”
Alice looked up from her book, her heart pounding. “She forgives you eventually, though.”
He glanced at her. “You read ahead?”
“No, of course not. But we saw her when she’s 42, and she didn’t seem too upset.”
“What did she say to you? When I was fetching your water.”
Alice bit her lip. “Not much. She was surprised to see you again. She had a boyfriend named Aubrey - think he was the one chasing her.”
“Why surprised?”
Alice sighed; she’d been hoping he would be more upset about the boyfriend. “Even if I knew, it’s not like I could tell you.”
He sighed, and fell back on the grass. “She’ll be home now.”
Alice closed her book and rested it on her lap. “Yes.”
“Swimming in the sea, I expect. Good swimmer, is River.”
Alice stared at him. Her heart, already pounding, began to spin. “Huh?”
The Doctor sounded almost annoyed. “Alice, how hard did you knock your head anyway? You were there same as I was - River’s house is near the ocean.”
“Yeah, in the 51st century, when we saw her last time,” said Alice, growing more alarmed. “But River isn’t from the 51st century, Doctor - she’s a 25th century girl, like me.”
The Doctor sat back up and stared at Alice. “What?”
“Don’t you remember? She was at St Oscar’s with my brother!”
The Doctor’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet, taking off for the console room. “Oh no.”
The book fell to the grass as Alice leapt to her feet and chased after him. “Doctor! Doctor! What home did you take her to?!?”
“This is not good!” he yelled back, which wasn’t a response at all, and by the time Alice caught up to him, he was staring in shock at the console monitor. “Oh, this really isn’t good.”
“What’s it say?” yelled Alice. The Doctor couldn’t speak, so she turned the monitor to face her, but the only thing showing was in Gallifreyan. Alice did the only thing possible: she kicked the Doctor. Hard.
It worked. He swallowed. “Last destination: 51st century. Previous destination: 25th century.”
Alice sat down hard on the jump seat, her head spinning. “And she was mad at you before.”
“OH!” yelled the Doctor, reeling back from the control panel. He began to pace around the time rotor, tapping his head. “This is...this is...no. No no no no no. She was in the 51st century when I first met her.”
“In The Library?” clarified Alice.
“Yes. That was the 51st century. And then I saw her again on Nebulon, when she was twelve-"
“Twenty-fifth,” said Alice, her voice taut.
“And at St Oscars when she was fifteen....”
“Definitely 25th,” repeated Alice; now her voice was nearly a warning.
“And then at her house-"
“In the 51st century!” Alice rubbed at her temples; not only did her head spin, it pounded.
“So what’s a 25th century girl doing in the 51st century?” the Doctor demanded, stopping right in front of Alice.
Alice didn’t even blink. “This is so many levels of Not Good and you are in so much trouble that I can’t even begin to comprehend how hard Jack is going to laugh. Well, laugh or completely pound you into next Thursday.”
“We should go back,” said the Doctor.
“You think?”
The Doctor reached over and spun the temporal sphere. Alice watched the time rotor as it began to chug. Every downward pulse coincided with the way her stomach was tightening into a smaller and smaller knot. Any minute now, and she’d either be sick all over the jump seat, or she’d burst into tears. One stupid thing, that was it, and she couldn’t even tell River that much. Maybe she’d have a chance to say something when they found her again. Maybe it wasn’t all lost...
Alice glanced at the console monitor, and frowned. She couldn’t read Gallifreyan, true, but she knew one thing:
“Doctor? We’re going backwards.”
“She’s supposed to be in the 51st century.”
Alice stared at him. “What are you going on about now?”
“I met her first in the 51st century,” repeated the Doctor. “She’s supposed to be there. Maybe this is when I take her there. The TARDIS even calculated her age based on when we saw her there last - we didn’t even create a paradox, Alice. We saw her when she was 42, and she’s 26 now - we dropped her off exactly 16 years before when we last saw her.”
Alice stared at him. “So we were meant to leave her there?”
“Yes!” he shouted.
“In the middle of a thunderstorm, with no warning, and after yelling each other’s heads off?” Alice shouted back.
“Why not?”
Alice might have throttled him; luckily, she remembered just in time that she couldn’t land the TARDIS single-handedly. “Remind me never to rely on your sense of timing. And we’re still going backwards.”
“First things first,” replied the Doctor. Alice grabbed the nearest lever, and held on tight.
*
Three hours and 25 centuries later, they landed exactly where they’d left River last. The rain had stopped, which was a very good sign, but now allowed them to see their surroundings, which were far different than the Doctor remembered from their first visit, when River had been well-established in the 51st century. Or, more specifically, the area where he’d locked in her house’s coordinates was different. There were no houses, for one thing - just miles and miles of land sparsely scattered with trees, and a few dirt roads where one day there would be pavement.
“We have to find her,” said Alice.
He didn’t look at his companion; instead, he reached into his coat pocket, and touched the item he’d placed there only an hour before. “I know.”
“We can’t just leave her here.”
“I know.”
“I mean, I know you say she belongs here now - or maybe she does in another ten years - but she doesn’t know that. You have to talk to her.”
“Alice, you can stop stating the obvious now.”
There was a pause; when he glanced at Alice, he was surprised to see her almost in tears. “I have to talk to her.”
The Doctor kept his focus on her, wondering what she meant. “Oh?”
“I was supposed to talk to her,” repeated Alice, touching the pocket where he knew she kept her letter. “I was supposed to do it this last time. But she didn’t give me a chance.”
“Alice, how long does it take to give someone a letter? You were alone with her in the console room for five minutes-"
“It’s gonna take longer than five minutes!” snapped Alice, and she rubbed her arms, frantic and anxious. “I think I see a village over there, yeah? She would have gone for civilization, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” the Doctor replied, turning away from Alice to scan what horizon he could see through the trees.
“Well, that’s where I’m going to look,” said Alice firmly. “You coming?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “I’ll be back in three hours.”
He waited until Alice’s footsteps had died away before turning into the deeper part of the forest, and making his careful way through the trees, following the scent and sound of the sea.
It had never really occurred to him that Alice would have her own job, other than keeping track of him. He hadn’t thought of her as part of the entire River Song...thing, really. But with every visit, Alice became more and more entrenched in the story, more and more important to whatever relationship he and River were forging...had forged...would someday create. It wasn’t the two of them. It was three.
No wonder River in the library hadn’t wanted to tell him anything. If he’d known he would travel with a girl named Alice, he’d have known that someday he wouldn’t travel with Donna or with - well, he knew he wouldn’t always travel with them. He knew that, he always knew that, but to know something in theory and know it in fact were two entirely different things.
River would have gone into the village at first, perhaps. But he didn’t think she’d be waiting there.
When he finally reached the beach, the lone figure sitting on the sand, watching the waves come in, proved him right. The closer he got to her, the more certain he became: she was River. She was wearing something new, a deep blue wrap of sorts, her hair still pulled into a messy braid - perhaps he’d gotten the time right after all. He didn’t really think so, but it was nice to hope.
He sat on the sand next to her. She didn’t make any indication that she noticed him, simply wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest, chin resting on her forearms. He waited.
“Wrong home, by the way.”
The tone in her voice startled him, just a little: she didn’t sound angry, or amused. She simply sounded like River, quiet and observant.
“Oh.”
“It’s all right. Not like I much liked the 25th century, anyway.”
“It was your home.”
“No, it isn’t. Wasn’t. Hasn’t been for six years, really.” River sighed, and stretched out her legs. “That would have been your fault, you know. Or maybe you don’t.”
“I-!” He couldn’t speak; the words died in his throat, and it was enormously frustrating. Something about River drove him to speechlessness - he wished he knew why.
“You left me here five days ago, you know. The ground’s barely dried out.”
“You said six years-"
She smiled, and looked away. “I wasn’t talking about you bringing me here, Doctor.”
He swallowed. “I’ll take you back.”
River laughed. “Home, or as a companion?”
He began to sputter. “I - ah - I-"
“Oh, stop that, you look like a demented camel,” River interrupted him. “No thanks, either way. I like it here. Even made some friends, found a place to stay, and I’ve got a job now. Something to do. All my schooling, still valid, even 25 centuries in the future. Good thing I decided on archaeology anyway, isn’t it? Now I’m really an expert.”
“You were always clever,” said the Doctor, and blinked. “Well, you’ll always be clever. I’m sure I’ll tell you that.”
“Among other things,” agreed River. She stood, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I suppose I should thank you for checking up on me.”
It was too final; she made every indication of being ready to leave, for the formal conversation to be finished. He didn’t want her to go. “Why’d you say you were sorry?”
River shook her head. “Can’t tell you.”
“Did I-" He swallowed. “Was it me chasing you?”
River’s eyes widened; she took a step back, which didn’t help his confidence at all. “No, it’s - it wasn’t ever you, Doctor. I mean, it was, but not - it wasn’t your fault. None of it. I was just - young. And stupid. And I’m sorry.”
“What wasn’t my fault?” he insisted, and was halfway to his feet when River stepped further away, shaking her head. He froze, crouched on the ground, watching her. So calm before, she was growing more distressed by the moment, and he slowly eased back down to the sand, waiting.
“Spoilers,” she finally whispered with far more effort than it should have taken. She turned quickly, but not before he could see her blinking back tears.
“River, wait!” he shouted, and this time managed to reach his feet. She waited with her back to him, and he walked around to face her, reaching into his coat pocket. He managed to pull the diary loose just as he came to a stop in front of her. “Here.”
River’s eyes widened. “My diary?” She took it from him, resting her hand over the still-new cover, brilliantly blue, with sharp corners and crisp white pages within. The way her small hands lovingly held the diary made him swallow. “I didn’t think I’d see it again.”
“You didn’t have it with you,” he said, feeling as though he fumbled every word. “I couldn’t let you - anyway. We never did diaries.”
“No,” said River softly, “we never did.”
“So,” he said, trying to reclaim some of the cheerfulness, “when are you?”
She didn’t open the diary; instead, she kept stroking the cover. “51st century now. You?”
“Same. Just saw you here. You were happy. You’ll be happy. And don’t go telling me spoilers,” he warned her. “I don’t think it’s wrong to know you’ll be happy.”
Her hands rested on the cover. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“You and me. I’m always having those ‘A-ha!’ moments, little things making sense all of a sudden. You said to me, so early on, you wouldn’t bring me here. I begged, I was awful. I’d ask why not, you’d say I would see it soon enough and be sick of it, and then - spoilers. You’d laugh. I always thought you were laughing at me, a little. You knew you’d bring me here, though. I think I knew it too. Didn’t think it would happen quite this way, by accident, but-" She shrugged, and smiled. “Funny, us, aren’t we?”
He settled his hands in his coat pocket. “I feel like I’m knowing you backwards.”
“I feel the same way. The very first time I saw you, you were so, so old. But I was so, so young - you said you’d never seen me so young.”
The words jarred him - not because he didn’t remember them, but because he did, in a very different meeting. “I said-"
But River didn’t seem to notice his confusion. “Spoilers.” She clutched the diary to her chest then, and took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what came next. “I should go.”
She turned again to begin walking up the beach. He felt lost, watching her walk away from him. She wasn’t supposed to walk away yet. She wasn’t supposed to be clutching her diary as if it was the last link to anything she had ever loved. Nothing about the moment was right - even knowing that bringing her to the 51st century had been the right, if accidental, thing to do - none of it sat well. He wasn’t done yet. He couldn’t let her go away just yet-
“Alice has something to give you!”
River stopped, and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll look for her.”
She began walking again. He took a step forward.
“Do you hate me?”
River stopped in her tracks once more, but didn’t turn around. “I don’t know.”
“Why did you run from me?”
“I didn’t-"
“Why are we always hiding behind spoilers every time we meet, River?” he shouted, and she spun around so hard she nearly lost her balance on the sand.
“Because that’s what you’ve always done to me!” she shouted back. The tears fell hard down her cheeks, and she brushed them away on the back of her hand, sniffling.
He couldn’t speak; for a moment, he wondered which of the two of them ran in the other direction first. “I-"
River hiccupped, and caught her breath. “Was I happy to see you?”
“I - what?”
“In the 51st century. When you saw me last. You said I was happy. Was it because I saw you?”
The confusion and the doubt melted away; he tossed any notion about spoilers and timelines aside, and smiled, remembering. “We went swimming in the ocean.” She’d kissed him, under the water. He almost regretted it - not because he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, which he didn’t, not quite - but because now that he’d done it, they would never have a proper first kiss, for both of them.
This idea, which came on so strongly, surprised him so much that he was temporarily stunned, and didn’t hear River’s next words.
“Doctor,” River said, obviously repeating herself. “I can’t swim.”
He stared at her. “A girl named River who can’t swim?”
“You never had time to teach me,” she snapped, and clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening. He began to laugh.
“Spoilers, Miss Song?”
“Forget it!”
“Nope,” he said, and shrugged off his coat. “Well, then. Swimming lessons commence now. I have two hours before I’m meeting Alice back at the TARDIS, and you have quite a while to practice after I teach you the basics.”
“Wait - you’re going to teach me to swim?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Is something wrong with now?” he asked, loosening his tie.
“I-" River swallowed. “Only...” He watched her, slowing his movements, as she kept swallowing, backing away. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t - not from - no. You don’t know, you don’t know any of it.”
“River?”
“You don’t get it!” she shouted suddenly. “I can believe I’m happy in another couple of years, Doctor, and I can believe I know how to swim, and maybe I can even believe you teach me - but it can’t be now. You don’t get to kick me out of the TARDIS, and save my life, and drop me on a new world where I’m out of time, and then teach me how to swim like there’s nothing wrong! I know it’s all very well for you, but I can’t do that!”
His hands drop to his sides. “River-"
“Just - just leave me alone for a while, okay, Doctor? Just go away and don’t come back for a while, because I don’t want to see you. I still don’t want to see you. You hurt too much.”
She ran up the beach to the trees, never once turning to look back at him. He wasn’t sure if the sounds she made were sobs or gasps for air.
*
Alice found him four hours later, just as it was beginning to rain. Her eyes ran red and her cheeks were flushed; he couldn’t tell if the damp cheeks were her tears or the rain.
“I couldn’t find her,” shouted Alice over the thunder, and together they sat and watched the ocean churn.
Chapter Nine
Author: azriona
Characters: The Doctor, River Song
Rating: PG, so far
Spoilers: Big ones for Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead. Compliant with Journey’s End, but if you haven’t seen it, you won’t be spoiled.
Betas: runriggers and jlrpuck
Summary: The Doctor never expects to met anyone in a linear fashion. How he meets River Song is slightly more non-lineal than most.
Chapters One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven
Chapter Eight
It was two days before the Doctor finally slipped out of his Melancholy and became human again (relatively speaking). It had been among the longest two days of Alice’s admittedly short life to that point - the journey on the Judoon ship notwithstanding. What made it so incredibly long was that the Melancholy had been unlike anything Alice had ever witnessed - whereas usually the Doctor was fairly high-functioning, if needlessly sarcastic and cruel, during the two days he spent locked in his own misery, he’d needed prompting in order to do anything.
It was only because Alice lead him to the control panel that the Doctor steered the TARDIS into the Vortex.
It was only because she winced and led him to the medical bay that he fixed her shoulder permanently.
It was only because Alice handed him a spoon that he stirred the macaroni cheese for dinner.
By the time Alice went to the garden, because the smell of the apple grass and the soft rustling of the leaves calmed her and let her think, he followed her almost by habit. He sat on the grass, cross-legged, and spent hours staring at the vines.
He never spoke a word.
Alice brought him tea and scones and tried to read her book, but instead found herself thinking about River’s diary.
She hadn’t dared open it; she had no idea exactly when River was. Already, Alice had broken one rule, the most important rule: Tell River about the Melancholies. One stupid thing, and she hadn’t done it. She’d lost her nerve, lost her train of thought, had been crumpled on the floor of the console room with her head in the clouds. River slipped through the TARDIS door into the maelstrom before Alice ever had a chance to tell her about the Doctor, about his Melancholies, about the ghost he saw out of the corner of his eye....and now the chance was gone. Even with the TARDIS, she couldn’t go back on a timeline.
So the diary sat on her dresser, closed. Alice didn’t dare break another rule.
For two days, she fed the Doctor scones and tea and leftover macaroni cheese. She occasionally stood him up and walked him around the TARDIS, or left him alone in the console room where he could fiddle with the controls for a bit. On the morning of the second day, she shoved him into one of the lavatories with a towel and a clean suit and ordered him to shower.
She was halfway through The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (homework, after all) when the Doctor appeared in the garden again, wearing the new suit, his damp hair already beginning to fluff up from his head. She watched him through her eyelashes as he sat nearby, staring at the vines that weaved themselves up the walls, and much to her surprise, began to speak.
“I expect she stays mad at me for a while.”
Alice looked up from her book, her heart pounding. “She forgives you eventually, though.”
He glanced at her. “You read ahead?”
“No, of course not. But we saw her when she’s 42, and she didn’t seem too upset.”
“What did she say to you? When I was fetching your water.”
Alice bit her lip. “Not much. She was surprised to see you again. She had a boyfriend named Aubrey - think he was the one chasing her.”
“Why surprised?”
Alice sighed; she’d been hoping he would be more upset about the boyfriend. “Even if I knew, it’s not like I could tell you.”
He sighed, and fell back on the grass. “She’ll be home now.”
Alice closed her book and rested it on her lap. “Yes.”
“Swimming in the sea, I expect. Good swimmer, is River.”
Alice stared at him. Her heart, already pounding, began to spin. “Huh?”
The Doctor sounded almost annoyed. “Alice, how hard did you knock your head anyway? You were there same as I was - River’s house is near the ocean.”
“Yeah, in the 51st century, when we saw her last time,” said Alice, growing more alarmed. “But River isn’t from the 51st century, Doctor - she’s a 25th century girl, like me.”
The Doctor sat back up and stared at Alice. “What?”
“Don’t you remember? She was at St Oscar’s with my brother!”
The Doctor’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet, taking off for the console room. “Oh no.”
The book fell to the grass as Alice leapt to her feet and chased after him. “Doctor! Doctor! What home did you take her to?!?”
“This is not good!” he yelled back, which wasn’t a response at all, and by the time Alice caught up to him, he was staring in shock at the console monitor. “Oh, this really isn’t good.”
“What’s it say?” yelled Alice. The Doctor couldn’t speak, so she turned the monitor to face her, but the only thing showing was in Gallifreyan. Alice did the only thing possible: she kicked the Doctor. Hard.
It worked. He swallowed. “Last destination: 51st century. Previous destination: 25th century.”
Alice sat down hard on the jump seat, her head spinning. “And she was mad at you before.”
“OH!” yelled the Doctor, reeling back from the control panel. He began to pace around the time rotor, tapping his head. “This is...this is...no. No no no no no. She was in the 51st century when I first met her.”
“In The Library?” clarified Alice.
“Yes. That was the 51st century. And then I saw her again on Nebulon, when she was twelve-"
“Twenty-fifth,” said Alice, her voice taut.
“And at St Oscars when she was fifteen....”
“Definitely 25th,” repeated Alice; now her voice was nearly a warning.
“And then at her house-"
“In the 51st century!” Alice rubbed at her temples; not only did her head spin, it pounded.
“So what’s a 25th century girl doing in the 51st century?” the Doctor demanded, stopping right in front of Alice.
Alice didn’t even blink. “This is so many levels of Not Good and you are in so much trouble that I can’t even begin to comprehend how hard Jack is going to laugh. Well, laugh or completely pound you into next Thursday.”
“We should go back,” said the Doctor.
“You think?”
The Doctor reached over and spun the temporal sphere. Alice watched the time rotor as it began to chug. Every downward pulse coincided with the way her stomach was tightening into a smaller and smaller knot. Any minute now, and she’d either be sick all over the jump seat, or she’d burst into tears. One stupid thing, that was it, and she couldn’t even tell River that much. Maybe she’d have a chance to say something when they found her again. Maybe it wasn’t all lost...
Alice glanced at the console monitor, and frowned. She couldn’t read Gallifreyan, true, but she knew one thing:
“Doctor? We’re going backwards.”
“She’s supposed to be in the 51st century.”
Alice stared at him. “What are you going on about now?”
“I met her first in the 51st century,” repeated the Doctor. “She’s supposed to be there. Maybe this is when I take her there. The TARDIS even calculated her age based on when we saw her there last - we didn’t even create a paradox, Alice. We saw her when she was 42, and she’s 26 now - we dropped her off exactly 16 years before when we last saw her.”
Alice stared at him. “So we were meant to leave her there?”
“Yes!” he shouted.
“In the middle of a thunderstorm, with no warning, and after yelling each other’s heads off?” Alice shouted back.
“Why not?”
Alice might have throttled him; luckily, she remembered just in time that she couldn’t land the TARDIS single-handedly. “Remind me never to rely on your sense of timing. And we’re still going backwards.”
“First things first,” replied the Doctor. Alice grabbed the nearest lever, and held on tight.
*
Three hours and 25 centuries later, they landed exactly where they’d left River last. The rain had stopped, which was a very good sign, but now allowed them to see their surroundings, which were far different than the Doctor remembered from their first visit, when River had been well-established in the 51st century. Or, more specifically, the area where he’d locked in her house’s coordinates was different. There were no houses, for one thing - just miles and miles of land sparsely scattered with trees, and a few dirt roads where one day there would be pavement.
“We have to find her,” said Alice.
He didn’t look at his companion; instead, he reached into his coat pocket, and touched the item he’d placed there only an hour before. “I know.”
“We can’t just leave her here.”
“I know.”
“I mean, I know you say she belongs here now - or maybe she does in another ten years - but she doesn’t know that. You have to talk to her.”
“Alice, you can stop stating the obvious now.”
There was a pause; when he glanced at Alice, he was surprised to see her almost in tears. “I have to talk to her.”
The Doctor kept his focus on her, wondering what she meant. “Oh?”
“I was supposed to talk to her,” repeated Alice, touching the pocket where he knew she kept her letter. “I was supposed to do it this last time. But she didn’t give me a chance.”
“Alice, how long does it take to give someone a letter? You were alone with her in the console room for five minutes-"
“It’s gonna take longer than five minutes!” snapped Alice, and she rubbed her arms, frantic and anxious. “I think I see a village over there, yeah? She would have gone for civilization, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” the Doctor replied, turning away from Alice to scan what horizon he could see through the trees.
“Well, that’s where I’m going to look,” said Alice firmly. “You coming?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “I’ll be back in three hours.”
He waited until Alice’s footsteps had died away before turning into the deeper part of the forest, and making his careful way through the trees, following the scent and sound of the sea.
It had never really occurred to him that Alice would have her own job, other than keeping track of him. He hadn’t thought of her as part of the entire River Song...thing, really. But with every visit, Alice became more and more entrenched in the story, more and more important to whatever relationship he and River were forging...had forged...would someday create. It wasn’t the two of them. It was three.
No wonder River in the library hadn’t wanted to tell him anything. If he’d known he would travel with a girl named Alice, he’d have known that someday he wouldn’t travel with Donna or with - well, he knew he wouldn’t always travel with them. He knew that, he always knew that, but to know something in theory and know it in fact were two entirely different things.
River would have gone into the village at first, perhaps. But he didn’t think she’d be waiting there.
When he finally reached the beach, the lone figure sitting on the sand, watching the waves come in, proved him right. The closer he got to her, the more certain he became: she was River. She was wearing something new, a deep blue wrap of sorts, her hair still pulled into a messy braid - perhaps he’d gotten the time right after all. He didn’t really think so, but it was nice to hope.
He sat on the sand next to her. She didn’t make any indication that she noticed him, simply wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest, chin resting on her forearms. He waited.
“Wrong home, by the way.”
The tone in her voice startled him, just a little: she didn’t sound angry, or amused. She simply sounded like River, quiet and observant.
“Oh.”
“It’s all right. Not like I much liked the 25th century, anyway.”
“It was your home.”
“No, it isn’t. Wasn’t. Hasn’t been for six years, really.” River sighed, and stretched out her legs. “That would have been your fault, you know. Or maybe you don’t.”
“I-!” He couldn’t speak; the words died in his throat, and it was enormously frustrating. Something about River drove him to speechlessness - he wished he knew why.
“You left me here five days ago, you know. The ground’s barely dried out.”
“You said six years-"
She smiled, and looked away. “I wasn’t talking about you bringing me here, Doctor.”
He swallowed. “I’ll take you back.”
River laughed. “Home, or as a companion?”
He began to sputter. “I - ah - I-"
“Oh, stop that, you look like a demented camel,” River interrupted him. “No thanks, either way. I like it here. Even made some friends, found a place to stay, and I’ve got a job now. Something to do. All my schooling, still valid, even 25 centuries in the future. Good thing I decided on archaeology anyway, isn’t it? Now I’m really an expert.”
“You were always clever,” said the Doctor, and blinked. “Well, you’ll always be clever. I’m sure I’ll tell you that.”
“Among other things,” agreed River. She stood, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I suppose I should thank you for checking up on me.”
It was too final; she made every indication of being ready to leave, for the formal conversation to be finished. He didn’t want her to go. “Why’d you say you were sorry?”
River shook her head. “Can’t tell you.”
“Did I-" He swallowed. “Was it me chasing you?”
River’s eyes widened; she took a step back, which didn’t help his confidence at all. “No, it’s - it wasn’t ever you, Doctor. I mean, it was, but not - it wasn’t your fault. None of it. I was just - young. And stupid. And I’m sorry.”
“What wasn’t my fault?” he insisted, and was halfway to his feet when River stepped further away, shaking her head. He froze, crouched on the ground, watching her. So calm before, she was growing more distressed by the moment, and he slowly eased back down to the sand, waiting.
“Spoilers,” she finally whispered with far more effort than it should have taken. She turned quickly, but not before he could see her blinking back tears.
“River, wait!” he shouted, and this time managed to reach his feet. She waited with her back to him, and he walked around to face her, reaching into his coat pocket. He managed to pull the diary loose just as he came to a stop in front of her. “Here.”
River’s eyes widened. “My diary?” She took it from him, resting her hand over the still-new cover, brilliantly blue, with sharp corners and crisp white pages within. The way her small hands lovingly held the diary made him swallow. “I didn’t think I’d see it again.”
“You didn’t have it with you,” he said, feeling as though he fumbled every word. “I couldn’t let you - anyway. We never did diaries.”
“No,” said River softly, “we never did.”
“So,” he said, trying to reclaim some of the cheerfulness, “when are you?”
She didn’t open the diary; instead, she kept stroking the cover. “51st century now. You?”
“Same. Just saw you here. You were happy. You’ll be happy. And don’t go telling me spoilers,” he warned her. “I don’t think it’s wrong to know you’ll be happy.”
Her hands rested on the cover. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“You and me. I’m always having those ‘A-ha!’ moments, little things making sense all of a sudden. You said to me, so early on, you wouldn’t bring me here. I begged, I was awful. I’d ask why not, you’d say I would see it soon enough and be sick of it, and then - spoilers. You’d laugh. I always thought you were laughing at me, a little. You knew you’d bring me here, though. I think I knew it too. Didn’t think it would happen quite this way, by accident, but-" She shrugged, and smiled. “Funny, us, aren’t we?”
He settled his hands in his coat pocket. “I feel like I’m knowing you backwards.”
“I feel the same way. The very first time I saw you, you were so, so old. But I was so, so young - you said you’d never seen me so young.”
The words jarred him - not because he didn’t remember them, but because he did, in a very different meeting. “I said-"
But River didn’t seem to notice his confusion. “Spoilers.” She clutched the diary to her chest then, and took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what came next. “I should go.”
She turned again to begin walking up the beach. He felt lost, watching her walk away from him. She wasn’t supposed to walk away yet. She wasn’t supposed to be clutching her diary as if it was the last link to anything she had ever loved. Nothing about the moment was right - even knowing that bringing her to the 51st century had been the right, if accidental, thing to do - none of it sat well. He wasn’t done yet. He couldn’t let her go away just yet-
“Alice has something to give you!”
River stopped, and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll look for her.”
She began walking again. He took a step forward.
“Do you hate me?”
River stopped in her tracks once more, but didn’t turn around. “I don’t know.”
“Why did you run from me?”
“I didn’t-"
“Why are we always hiding behind spoilers every time we meet, River?” he shouted, and she spun around so hard she nearly lost her balance on the sand.
“Because that’s what you’ve always done to me!” she shouted back. The tears fell hard down her cheeks, and she brushed them away on the back of her hand, sniffling.
He couldn’t speak; for a moment, he wondered which of the two of them ran in the other direction first. “I-"
River hiccupped, and caught her breath. “Was I happy to see you?”
“I - what?”
“In the 51st century. When you saw me last. You said I was happy. Was it because I saw you?”
The confusion and the doubt melted away; he tossed any notion about spoilers and timelines aside, and smiled, remembering. “We went swimming in the ocean.” She’d kissed him, under the water. He almost regretted it - not because he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, which he didn’t, not quite - but because now that he’d done it, they would never have a proper first kiss, for both of them.
This idea, which came on so strongly, surprised him so much that he was temporarily stunned, and didn’t hear River’s next words.
“Doctor,” River said, obviously repeating herself. “I can’t swim.”
He stared at her. “A girl named River who can’t swim?”
“You never had time to teach me,” she snapped, and clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening. He began to laugh.
“Spoilers, Miss Song?”
“Forget it!”
“Nope,” he said, and shrugged off his coat. “Well, then. Swimming lessons commence now. I have two hours before I’m meeting Alice back at the TARDIS, and you have quite a while to practice after I teach you the basics.”
“Wait - you’re going to teach me to swim?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Is something wrong with now?” he asked, loosening his tie.
“I-" River swallowed. “Only...” He watched her, slowing his movements, as she kept swallowing, backing away. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t - not from - no. You don’t know, you don’t know any of it.”
“River?”
“You don’t get it!” she shouted suddenly. “I can believe I’m happy in another couple of years, Doctor, and I can believe I know how to swim, and maybe I can even believe you teach me - but it can’t be now. You don’t get to kick me out of the TARDIS, and save my life, and drop me on a new world where I’m out of time, and then teach me how to swim like there’s nothing wrong! I know it’s all very well for you, but I can’t do that!”
His hands drop to his sides. “River-"
“Just - just leave me alone for a while, okay, Doctor? Just go away and don’t come back for a while, because I don’t want to see you. I still don’t want to see you. You hurt too much.”
She ran up the beach to the trees, never once turning to look back at him. He wasn’t sure if the sounds she made were sobs or gasps for air.
*
Alice found him four hours later, just as it was beginning to rain. Her eyes ran red and her cheeks were flushed; he couldn’t tell if the damp cheeks were her tears or the rain.
“I couldn’t find her,” shouted Alice over the thunder, and together they sat and watched the ocean churn.
Chapter Nine