A message from another time
This story is a spin-off from another one I've been trying to write for a long time, about River; I needed to know what was going through the Doctor's mind, but then couldn't put it in the other fic because River doesn't know what's in his mind. I expect this is not the first version of this story to be written, as I've been wondering for five and a half years how the Doctor knew when to give River the screwdriver, and for the past eleven months why he's in such a funk at the start of The Snowmen, and someone else is bound to have made the same connection.
But I thought the eve of the 50th anniversary weekend might be a good time to post it. And, as it's her birthday, it's dedicated to matildabj.
My thanks to katlinel and fengirl88 for their help and encouragement.
THE TURN OF THE SCREWDRIVER
He bounced back into the TARDIS, the doors slamming behind him, and set the controls to dematerialise.
Well, that had been fun. He'd only stopped off on Rishik for a haircut, but soon he'd found himself saving the planet by diverting an asteroid with sound waves. He'd got the sonic screwdriver to relay the feed from a Catastrophe Zone concert to the TARDIS, hanging in orbit, which amplified it several million times and broadcast it towards the body hurtling towards them. Clever, if he said so himself. And he had to say it himself, as he'd lacked a suitable audience. There had been a lot of applause, but it wasn't appreciation for his brilliance - the crowd had been excited by what they had justifiably seen as the most spectacular special effects in music history when the asteroid crashed into the sun. No, it would have been better fun for him with a companion.
Time to call River. The Last of the Ponds.
He pulled out his psychic paper. He'd been trying to persuade her to show off less when getting in touch - writing "Hullo Sweetie" plus a set of co-ordinates in High Gallifreyan in conspicuous places across the universe was all very well, but things had turned a bit nasty after one of the Slitheen deciphered High Gallifreyan; they hadn't actually bothered to set up an ambush themselves, but sold on the information to several parties he'd really have preferred to avoid. Anyway, the psychic paper appealed to her, even if it was primarily as an opportunity to make him blush. It had been particularly embarrassing that time when he'd fancied a few weeks in retreat on Mount Athos, and presented what was meant to appear as an introduction from the Matriarch, only to find River had hijacked it with some rather inappropriate suggestions about what they might get up to on a holiday on Argolis.
But there were no easily shocked officials looking on today, and he smiled as he saw words forming on the paper already, in River's familiar hand.
"In the library. Come as soon as you can. x"
His smile died.
From time to time, he'd wondered how he'd know when it was time to give her the screwdriver. The one he'd apparently handed over just before the first time he'd met her, and the final time she'd met him. The one he'd used to save her dying consciousness and download her into the Library. And then he'd pushed those thoughts away, or constructed plans in which he'd get to the Library first; he'd be lurking in the shadows - well, not the shadows, obviously, that would be stupid with the Vashta Nerada there - but lying in wait somehow to set things up so his earlier self would think he'd seen River Song die, but he hadn't, it would all be faked, so that she could live on, just as he'd lived on after they'd faked his death at Lake Silencio with the Teselecta...
But he knew it was a fantasy. He recognised a fixed point in time when he lived through one, and River's death had been fixed since the day he met her. She'd promised him years of adventures in his future, her past, and they'd had them, but he'd always known that this moment would come. And she'd told him, then, when he'd suggested time could be rewritten: "Not those times - not one line - don't you dare!"
Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear himself telling Barbara "You can't rewrite history! Not one line!" He'd been so sure of himself in those days. Sometimes he hated the stripling he had been for his know-it-all certainty. Today he hated him for being right.
He'd always assumed it was an accident, that message from River reaching his previous self rather than the one she had meant to summon to the Library. So many times he'd wished the message had come to him, because, surely, somehow, he'd have played the game differently before it had been fixed; and even if he couldn't have managed to save her, if she'd still insisted on sacrificing herself to save him, yet again, he'd have been there with her at the end, finally able to tell her what she meant to him, all the things he hadn't told her back then because he didn't know them yet, and hadn't told her since because... well, he wasn't very good at saying that sort of thing. And she probably knew already.
But all he'd got was this one last date, and that was fixed, too, because she'd told him back in the Library what they had done. He'd turned up on her doorstep, and whisked her off to the Singing Towers of Daryllium, where he'd given her the screwdriver. Not a bad choice, the Singing Towers; he'd have admired his own taste, if he hadn't known there was no choice. He'd give her the best night of her life. But no goodbyes. Goodbye was the ultimate spoiler.
And it would be goodbye, for him. Theoretically, it didn't need to be. He could go on visiting her, earlier in her timeline, just as he'd been doing for all these years. But in his mind, he couldn't do it. Once he'd given her the screwdriver and let her go on her way to the Library, it would be over. He was, effectively, sending her to her death. It would be too painful to see her again after that, after what they'd shared together and that other self hadn't. Coward or killer? Both.
He forwarded - or was it backwarded - the psychic message to the moment when he'd first received it, travelling with Donna so long ago. Then, he changed into his top hat and tails, his one gesture of defiance. River had said he'd turned up on her doorstep in a suit, but he hadn't worn that since the day he regenerated, it was part of the earlier identity, and she'd always liked him in white tie. He set the TARDIS on course for a date several weeks before she'd be setting off for the Library. He put the screwdriver in his pocket. And he got ready to bounce out of the TARDIS and sweep the Last of the Ponds off her feet.
Note: The bit about the Doctor changing into top hat and tails is my attempt to reconcile River's description of his appearance in Forest of the Dead - "a new haircut and a suit" - with his outfit in Last Night, the second of two minisodes about River and the Doctor (if you're watching them, it would make sense to take First Night first).
Also posted on Dreamwidth, with
comments.
But I thought the eve of the 50th anniversary weekend might be a good time to post it. And, as it's her birthday, it's dedicated to matildabj.
My thanks to katlinel and fengirl88 for their help and encouragement.
THE TURN OF THE SCREWDRIVER
He bounced back into the TARDIS, the doors slamming behind him, and set the controls to dematerialise.
Well, that had been fun. He'd only stopped off on Rishik for a haircut, but soon he'd found himself saving the planet by diverting an asteroid with sound waves. He'd got the sonic screwdriver to relay the feed from a Catastrophe Zone concert to the TARDIS, hanging in orbit, which amplified it several million times and broadcast it towards the body hurtling towards them. Clever, if he said so himself. And he had to say it himself, as he'd lacked a suitable audience. There had been a lot of applause, but it wasn't appreciation for his brilliance - the crowd had been excited by what they had justifiably seen as the most spectacular special effects in music history when the asteroid crashed into the sun. No, it would have been better fun for him with a companion.
Time to call River. The Last of the Ponds.
He pulled out his psychic paper. He'd been trying to persuade her to show off less when getting in touch - writing "Hullo Sweetie" plus a set of co-ordinates in High Gallifreyan in conspicuous places across the universe was all very well, but things had turned a bit nasty after one of the Slitheen deciphered High Gallifreyan; they hadn't actually bothered to set up an ambush themselves, but sold on the information to several parties he'd really have preferred to avoid. Anyway, the psychic paper appealed to her, even if it was primarily as an opportunity to make him blush. It had been particularly embarrassing that time when he'd fancied a few weeks in retreat on Mount Athos, and presented what was meant to appear as an introduction from the Matriarch, only to find River had hijacked it with some rather inappropriate suggestions about what they might get up to on a holiday on Argolis.
But there were no easily shocked officials looking on today, and he smiled as he saw words forming on the paper already, in River's familiar hand.
"In the library. Come as soon as you can. x"
His smile died.
From time to time, he'd wondered how he'd know when it was time to give her the screwdriver. The one he'd apparently handed over just before the first time he'd met her, and the final time she'd met him. The one he'd used to save her dying consciousness and download her into the Library. And then he'd pushed those thoughts away, or constructed plans in which he'd get to the Library first; he'd be lurking in the shadows - well, not the shadows, obviously, that would be stupid with the Vashta Nerada there - but lying in wait somehow to set things up so his earlier self would think he'd seen River Song die, but he hadn't, it would all be faked, so that she could live on, just as he'd lived on after they'd faked his death at Lake Silencio with the Teselecta...
But he knew it was a fantasy. He recognised a fixed point in time when he lived through one, and River's death had been fixed since the day he met her. She'd promised him years of adventures in his future, her past, and they'd had them, but he'd always known that this moment would come. And she'd told him, then, when he'd suggested time could be rewritten: "Not those times - not one line - don't you dare!"
Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear himself telling Barbara "You can't rewrite history! Not one line!" He'd been so sure of himself in those days. Sometimes he hated the stripling he had been for his know-it-all certainty. Today he hated him for being right.
He'd always assumed it was an accident, that message from River reaching his previous self rather than the one she had meant to summon to the Library. So many times he'd wished the message had come to him, because, surely, somehow, he'd have played the game differently before it had been fixed; and even if he couldn't have managed to save her, if she'd still insisted on sacrificing herself to save him, yet again, he'd have been there with her at the end, finally able to tell her what she meant to him, all the things he hadn't told her back then because he didn't know them yet, and hadn't told her since because... well, he wasn't very good at saying that sort of thing. And she probably knew already.
But all he'd got was this one last date, and that was fixed, too, because she'd told him back in the Library what they had done. He'd turned up on her doorstep, and whisked her off to the Singing Towers of Daryllium, where he'd given her the screwdriver. Not a bad choice, the Singing Towers; he'd have admired his own taste, if he hadn't known there was no choice. He'd give her the best night of her life. But no goodbyes. Goodbye was the ultimate spoiler.
And it would be goodbye, for him. Theoretically, it didn't need to be. He could go on visiting her, earlier in her timeline, just as he'd been doing for all these years. But in his mind, he couldn't do it. Once he'd given her the screwdriver and let her go on her way to the Library, it would be over. He was, effectively, sending her to her death. It would be too painful to see her again after that, after what they'd shared together and that other self hadn't. Coward or killer? Both.
He forwarded - or was it backwarded - the psychic message to the moment when he'd first received it, travelling with Donna so long ago. Then, he changed into his top hat and tails, his one gesture of defiance. River had said he'd turned up on her doorstep in a suit, but he hadn't worn that since the day he regenerated, it was part of the earlier identity, and she'd always liked him in white tie. He set the TARDIS on course for a date several weeks before she'd be setting off for the Library. He put the screwdriver in his pocket. And he got ready to bounce out of the TARDIS and sweep the Last of the Ponds off her feet.
Note: The bit about the Doctor changing into top hat and tails is my attempt to reconcile River's description of his appearance in Forest of the Dead - "a new haircut and a suit" - with his outfit in Last Night, the second of two minisodes about River and the Doctor (if you're watching them, it would make sense to take First Night first).
Also posted on Dreamwidth, with
comments.