i will not speak of your sins, your values are all shot
Title: From a Galactic Graveyard of Bones, the Stars Shine Brighter
Author: enemeriad
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Doctor Who, River Song, Brian Williams
Pairing: Eleven/River
Genre/Rating: PG
Author's Note: My feelings about this episode cannot be quantified or written down due to the puddle of tears I am currently drowning, but feel free to cry with me in the discussion post up next. Here is something to placate me and my bucket of tears till then.
Summary: It was always, always at their deaths that they shone so blindingly
She leaves him on the steps for a good long while, until he can hear the Tardis in his mind humming softly for him to go. Ambiguous as always, it isn't until he feels the temporal energy press against his cranium that he stands, shaking off the guilt that curves his spine. The insistance in the Tardis, to comfort, to nurture just makes him angry.
He cannot bring himself to think of anything but Amelia's face, tears pooling in her eyes as she took a chance. Stepped forward to face the Monster that had been chasing her since the beginning, in a bizarre forest with her eyes closed so that she wouldn't get swallowed up by the Angels.
He chews his cheek, waiting for the bruising against his heart to subside. He thinks idly that maybe this means he will regenerate soon and he can't help but wish for it, just a little. So that he doesn't have to think about the faces that this face saw and had to give up. Had to say Goodbye too and the ones he didn't get a chance to say goodbye too. Good old Rory Pond, precious Amelia. Gone.
He slumps against the stair railing and wonders what is the point? What is the point of these little human companions that never lasted. Faded, but burned so brightly that he loved them with a ferocity he knew not of. They were stars, truly, with all the energy and exasperation of a sun and a lifespan that was so achingly short it was over before they even got to burn at their brightest.
It was always, always at their deaths that they shone so blindingly. Martha, Donna and Rose. And then later Little Amelia, the Girl who Waited, who risked everything to go and be with Rory, the boy who waited. Who would wait forever and a millenia to be with the one girl he loved.
But they were together, he knew it. They had to be. There was no other alternative. For Amy and Rory not to be together was not possible. If Amy could bring back the Doctor, she could do anything. Be anything. Achieve it all. And she had, he was sure.
He reaches the bedroom before he's shaken out from his own thoughts. Hand poised on the door handle he can hear River crying, soft drawings of breath that hitch over the tiny etchings of grief in her throat. His forehead closes to rest on the door and he frowns. How could he forget, again, that it was not he who had just lost the Ponds but she who had lost her parents one last time. He deliberates there, pushing his head into the door and wondering how he could be so stupid.
All the pain and hurt-ness pressed into the lines under her eyes and the smiles that disguised the broken pieces.
He opens the door a creak, watches as she straightens, pulling the pieces of herself back together so she can stand tall for him. But he shakes his head, has gathered her in his arms within a moment and waits a moment for her to push him away with a tall laugh and sashay off to save another planet or ruin another empire.
But Professor Song does nothing of that. Absolutely unexpected as always, she just sighs. Like she expected it. Like the entire world collapsing around them is nothing. And for a second, the Doctor remembers that for River, them being alive, them being together, them being happy is probably the best version of the apocalypse that she ever gets.
Author: enemeriad
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Doctor Who, River Song, Brian Williams
Pairing: Eleven/River
Genre/Rating: PG
Author's Note: My feelings about this episode cannot be quantified or written down due to the puddle of tears I am currently drowning, but feel free to cry with me in the discussion post up next. Here is something to placate me and my bucket of tears till then.
Summary: It was always, always at their deaths that they shone so blindingly
She leaves him on the steps for a good long while, until he can hear the Tardis in his mind humming softly for him to go. Ambiguous as always, it isn't until he feels the temporal energy press against his cranium that he stands, shaking off the guilt that curves his spine. The insistance in the Tardis, to comfort, to nurture just makes him angry.
He cannot bring himself to think of anything but Amelia's face, tears pooling in her eyes as she took a chance. Stepped forward to face the Monster that had been chasing her since the beginning, in a bizarre forest with her eyes closed so that she wouldn't get swallowed up by the Angels.
He chews his cheek, waiting for the bruising against his heart to subside. He thinks idly that maybe this means he will regenerate soon and he can't help but wish for it, just a little. So that he doesn't have to think about the faces that this face saw and had to give up. Had to say Goodbye too and the ones he didn't get a chance to say goodbye too. Good old Rory Pond, precious Amelia. Gone.
He slumps against the stair railing and wonders what is the point? What is the point of these little human companions that never lasted. Faded, but burned so brightly that he loved them with a ferocity he knew not of. They were stars, truly, with all the energy and exasperation of a sun and a lifespan that was so achingly short it was over before they even got to burn at their brightest.
It was always, always at their deaths that they shone so blindingly. Martha, Donna and Rose. And then later Little Amelia, the Girl who Waited, who risked everything to go and be with Rory, the boy who waited. Who would wait forever and a millenia to be with the one girl he loved.
But they were together, he knew it. They had to be. There was no other alternative. For Amy and Rory not to be together was not possible. If Amy could bring back the Doctor, she could do anything. Be anything. Achieve it all. And she had, he was sure.
He reaches the bedroom before he's shaken out from his own thoughts. Hand poised on the door handle he can hear River crying, soft drawings of breath that hitch over the tiny etchings of grief in her throat. His forehead closes to rest on the door and he frowns. How could he forget, again, that it was not he who had just lost the Ponds but she who had lost her parents one last time. He deliberates there, pushing his head into the door and wondering how he could be so stupid.
All the pain and hurt-ness pressed into the lines under her eyes and the smiles that disguised the broken pieces.
He opens the door a creak, watches as she straightens, pulling the pieces of herself back together so she can stand tall for him. But he shakes his head, has gathered her in his arms within a moment and waits a moment for her to push him away with a tall laugh and sashay off to save another planet or ruin another empire.
But Professor Song does nothing of that. Absolutely unexpected as always, she just sighs. Like she expected it. Like the entire world collapsing around them is nothing. And for a second, the Doctor remembers that for River, them being alive, them being together, them being happy is probably the best version of the apocalypse that she ever gets.