DW fic: This Was Never Going to be a Fairytale
I'm being all responsible today and finishing things. And drinking really terrible tea.
Title: This Was Never Going to be a Fairytale
Fandom: Doctor Who.
Cast: River Song, Jack Harkness, the Doctor (implied River/Doctor, implied-if-you-squint unrequited Jack/Doctor)
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for 'The Impossible Astronaut.” Implied canon-compliant character death (the one that happened within the first twenty minutes of the episode and made you go “WHAT???” really loudly and wake up everyone else. Not that that's my experience.) Also, in this fic, River was the one to kill that person.
Summary: River's in jail for killing a man, and the Time Agency thinks Jack can make her explain.
Notes: Writing old Jack makes me sad. River's time-line makes my head hurt. Obviously I had to write them together.
More spoiler-y notes that explain my thoughts under the cut. Because it took me ten minutes to come up with another summary after I decided my original one was too full of spoilers for the show.
During season 5 we were told River killed "a good man." I think this fact was mentioned quite a bit. And then the Doctor is killed by someone who doesn't show their face during the first episode of season 6, and it sounded to me like he knew who it was. I like to think that River killed him (I also like to think that her Vortex Manipulator is Jack's, but that's irrelevant.) Or well, not like to think, but am intrigued by the idea of.
This Was Never Going to Be a Fairytale
The official incarceration report of River Song is long and convoluted, covering several centuries and half-forgotten history in a dozen pages. It says nothing about her incarceration being voluntary.
*** *** ***
It takes the Agency several weeks to figure out what they should do to her, but when they do, even River is surprised by the path they take.
A man with dark hair liberally sprinkled with grey and crow's feet around his very blue eyes stands with his arms crossed before the bars of her cell. He looks at her for several minutes before speaking.
“You killed the Doctor,” he states, and she nods.
He hesitates, and purses his lips, and then he asks, with a hint of longing and more of anger in his voice, “How did it feel?”
“Like killing a part of myself.” River answers, and the man lowers his eyes.
When he shows no signs of speaking again, River gets up from her bed and approaches the man on the other side of the bars. “Who are you?” she asks.
Again the man hesitates before speaking. “I went by the name of Jack Harkness, long ago.”
“Ah.” She raises an eyebrow. “The fact.”
He looks at her then, eyes hard. “Ah...” he drawls, mimicking her. “The murderer.”
The smirk falls from her face and appears on his. Without another word, he turns and walks away.
*** *** ***
The thing she doesn't tell anyone, not the guards, and not the Interrogators and not their weapons and not Jack Harkness, is that there was a reason. She knows the reason, and that is enough. No one else can ever know. She needs to feel like this is a form of penance.
*** *** ***
“You're not in a Time Agency facility,” Jack remarks one day.
River doesn't acknowledge what she already knew.
“They think they'll be able to keep you here,” he continues to muse, quietly. “That you won't dare to try to escape. That you won't cause anymore trouble with the time-lines.”
He turns to look at her then, the dim light of the corridor throwing half his face in shadow. “But you have to get out and join him, don't you?”
She faces him, but does not speak. He nods, recognizing in her silence her answer.
“How can you stand it?” he asks, and she considers answering truthfully, telling him about the thrill of adrenaline and exhilaration and the ever-present fear of the day she has to introduce herself to the Doctor. Then she says, voice mocking the Agency mantra all children are taught, “Time-lines must be preserved.”
His expression makes it clear that he does not believe her, so she changes the subject.
“How can you stand it?” she asks, and he doesn't pretend to not understand her question.
“I can't,” he says simply. “But I have to. There is no other option.”
*** *** ***
“He's not coming back for you,” she tells Jack, another day. “He never does.”
He shifts from one foot to another outside her cell. “After a few thousand years I got that,” he says bitterly.
River considers him, and considers the walls of her cell, and then smiles cruelly. “I think he's still running from you, your “abomination.” I think he can't stand to be near you.”
Jack's eyes lower to the ground and the silence of the prison echoes around them.
*** *** ***
The first time River leaves the prison, Jack stands before her cell and watches her with shadowed eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He makes no move to stop her or to call the guards, and this makes River pause, just for a second.
“Why are you always here?” she asks, harsher than she consciously intended.
He shrugs easily. “The Agency asked me to interrogate you. They felt that meeting a fellow Companion of the Doctor might make you let your guard down.”
She turns to face him straight-on. “You've never pushed me for information,” she accuses.
He raised an eyebrow. “No, I haven't,” he agrees. She turns away from him and continues packing.
“This time,” Jack says softly behind her, and then pauses and clears his throat before continuing. “Save him, this time.”
She stops in surprise, head bowed over her bag, unable to turn and see whether his eyes reflect the longing and bitterness in his voice, until she hears him walk away down the corridor.
*** *** ***
Time can be rewritten, River thinks, sometimes, as she watches the Doctor. Things can change, she thinks, whenever he looks at her, so confused and young it makes her ache.
Being around him makes it easy to pretend that she has hope.
*** *** ***
On a beach in the middle of nowhere, River Song shoots at an astronaut as it wades into the water.
And from within the astronaut suit, River Song thinks, desperately, Time can be rewritten, and hopes her bullets hit.
You are the navigator who never could lead
we were lost in the silver sea
I was the ship who was too proud to ever sink.
Echo, my voice is an echo
of places I don’t know
and stories I’ve been told
Echo. We all are connected
a lighthouse a voyage
for history’s sake,
will you please take notice?
-Echo, by The Hush Sound
Title: This Was Never Going to be a Fairytale
Fandom: Doctor Who.
Cast: River Song, Jack Harkness, the Doctor (implied River/Doctor, implied-if-you-squint unrequited Jack/Doctor)
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for 'The Impossible Astronaut.” Implied canon-compliant character death (the one that happened within the first twenty minutes of the episode and made you go “WHAT???” really loudly and wake up everyone else. Not that that's my experience.) Also, in this fic, River was the one to kill that person.
Summary: River's in jail for killing a man, and the Time Agency thinks Jack can make her explain.
Notes: Writing old Jack makes me sad. River's time-line makes my head hurt. Obviously I had to write them together.
More spoiler-y notes that explain my thoughts under the cut. Because it took me ten minutes to come up with another summary after I decided my original one was too full of spoilers for the show.
During season 5 we were told River killed "a good man." I think this fact was mentioned quite a bit. And then the Doctor is killed by someone who doesn't show their face during the first episode of season 6, and it sounded to me like he knew who it was. I like to think that River killed him (I also like to think that her Vortex Manipulator is Jack's, but that's irrelevant.) Or well, not like to think, but am intrigued by the idea of.
This Was Never Going to Be a Fairytale
The official incarceration report of River Song is long and convoluted, covering several centuries and half-forgotten history in a dozen pages. It says nothing about her incarceration being voluntary.
*** *** ***
It takes the Agency several weeks to figure out what they should do to her, but when they do, even River is surprised by the path they take.
A man with dark hair liberally sprinkled with grey and crow's feet around his very blue eyes stands with his arms crossed before the bars of her cell. He looks at her for several minutes before speaking.
“You killed the Doctor,” he states, and she nods.
He hesitates, and purses his lips, and then he asks, with a hint of longing and more of anger in his voice, “How did it feel?”
“Like killing a part of myself.” River answers, and the man lowers his eyes.
When he shows no signs of speaking again, River gets up from her bed and approaches the man on the other side of the bars. “Who are you?” she asks.
Again the man hesitates before speaking. “I went by the name of Jack Harkness, long ago.”
“Ah.” She raises an eyebrow. “The fact.”
He looks at her then, eyes hard. “Ah...” he drawls, mimicking her. “The murderer.”
The smirk falls from her face and appears on his. Without another word, he turns and walks away.
*** *** ***
The thing she doesn't tell anyone, not the guards, and not the Interrogators and not their weapons and not Jack Harkness, is that there was a reason. She knows the reason, and that is enough. No one else can ever know. She needs to feel like this is a form of penance.
*** *** ***
“You're not in a Time Agency facility,” Jack remarks one day.
River doesn't acknowledge what she already knew.
“They think they'll be able to keep you here,” he continues to muse, quietly. “That you won't dare to try to escape. That you won't cause anymore trouble with the time-lines.”
He turns to look at her then, the dim light of the corridor throwing half his face in shadow. “But you have to get out and join him, don't you?”
She faces him, but does not speak. He nods, recognizing in her silence her answer.
“How can you stand it?” he asks, and she considers answering truthfully, telling him about the thrill of adrenaline and exhilaration and the ever-present fear of the day she has to introduce herself to the Doctor. Then she says, voice mocking the Agency mantra all children are taught, “Time-lines must be preserved.”
His expression makes it clear that he does not believe her, so she changes the subject.
“How can you stand it?” she asks, and he doesn't pretend to not understand her question.
“I can't,” he says simply. “But I have to. There is no other option.”
*** *** ***
“He's not coming back for you,” she tells Jack, another day. “He never does.”
He shifts from one foot to another outside her cell. “After a few thousand years I got that,” he says bitterly.
River considers him, and considers the walls of her cell, and then smiles cruelly. “I think he's still running from you, your “abomination.” I think he can't stand to be near you.”
Jack's eyes lower to the ground and the silence of the prison echoes around them.
*** *** ***
The first time River leaves the prison, Jack stands before her cell and watches her with shadowed eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He makes no move to stop her or to call the guards, and this makes River pause, just for a second.
“Why are you always here?” she asks, harsher than she consciously intended.
He shrugs easily. “The Agency asked me to interrogate you. They felt that meeting a fellow Companion of the Doctor might make you let your guard down.”
She turns to face him straight-on. “You've never pushed me for information,” she accuses.
He raised an eyebrow. “No, I haven't,” he agrees. She turns away from him and continues packing.
“This time,” Jack says softly behind her, and then pauses and clears his throat before continuing. “Save him, this time.”
She stops in surprise, head bowed over her bag, unable to turn and see whether his eyes reflect the longing and bitterness in his voice, until she hears him walk away down the corridor.
*** *** ***
Time can be rewritten, River thinks, sometimes, as she watches the Doctor. Things can change, she thinks, whenever he looks at her, so confused and young it makes her ache.
Being around him makes it easy to pretend that she has hope.
*** *** ***
On a beach in the middle of nowhere, River Song shoots at an astronaut as it wades into the water.
And from within the astronaut suit, River Song thinks, desperately, Time can be rewritten, and hopes her bullets hit.
You are the navigator who never could lead
we were lost in the silver sea
I was the ship who was too proud to ever sink.
Echo, my voice is an echo
of places I don’t know
and stories I’ve been told
Echo. We all are connected
a lighthouse a voyage
for history’s sake,
will you please take notice?
-Echo, by The Hush Sound