A/N: Title from Jack White's cover of Love is Blindness
Pain rages under his bones and sears along the pathways of his nerves like a wildfire thirsting for fuel. His sweaty palms brace against the cool glass floor of the TARDIS as he drags himself toward the console. The chemicals rolling inside him seem to be reacting in the same way as the poison of the Judas tree, and the thought brings forth a short laugh as he remembers the blindingly golden light of regeneration, the soft, but deadly touch of lips, the pain of seeing those blue-green eyes void of any love for him, a pain that clawed at his hearts and had nothing to do with the poison coursing through his system, the agonizing process of death, and the kiss of life that sacrificed so many of hers- quite the first date.
His hands reach for the console, fingers gripping the edge so tight that skin strains across bone and turns his knuckles white. With a gasp of pain, he hoists himself shakily to his feet, leaning his weight on the console as he looks up to the ceiling, "Come on, old girl. Give me something," the Doctor pleads, his voice a ragged whisper.
The TARDIS gives a sad hum, and when he looks down, a brand new sonic screwdriver emerges from the console. But not so new, he thinks and he takes it in hand, admiring the blue tip. He's seen it before, centuries ago in a planet full of books that was inhabited by creatures that could only be described as flesh eating piranhas.
Back then he had hated everything it stood for with its red settings and biodampers- it spoke volumes about the woman who held it in her hand and wielded it as if it were her own. She was so new to him then, and yet she knew every last thing about him. Even his name. It was obvious that she had a role in his future, one that he didn't want to think about or even acknowledge, and his pride took over, constantly questioning her and the trust she had for him.
"I don't give my screwdriver to anyone ," he had stated with frustration, but she had only smiled in response and replied with a confident, "I'm not anyone." And of course, she turned out to be right. She was the daughter of two of his best friends, born with the DNA of his people and the ability to regenerate. She had been raised to kill him, but instead fell in love and together they travelled the stars hand in hand, even if most of the time it was a little backwards.
Their nights were his favorite. After a good dose of danger and a bit of running, they would climb into bed where skin would meet skin and declarations of love would be whispered into the night in a language only they knew. In a tangle of sheets he would lay his head on her chest and listen to the rhythmic beat of her twin hearts as they pound underneath her ribcage- a sound that was better than any music and reminded him that he was not alone. She was his lover, his confidant, the one person who never minded putting him in place, and yet loved him unconditionally. She was his wife. And all too soon, time had taken her away.
Biting back another wave of pain that threatens to pull him under, he fumbles with the clasp on the sonic screwdriver and lifts open the small compartment that holds a neural relay. What he expected to find was five empty bars, patiently waiting to connect with a conscience, but instead the bars shine a bright green up at him, the light unwavering, and suddenly he understands.
"Take me to her," the Doctor commands softly, his voice strained. Levers are flipped on their own and in no time the TARDIS is on her way to the destination. Gripping the sonic in his left hand, he notices for the first time how his ring finger slides through the golden circle attached to the handle as if it were a wedding band- how appropriate. He stumbles down the stairs, using the railing to hold him up, and he reaches the doors just as they land. The doors fly open just as his hand reaches for the handle, and suddenly he is face to face with River Song.
"Doctor?" She asks, her voice full of worry and her brow furrowed in concern as she takes in his pale complexion, the cold beads of sweat lining his brow and the slight shaking of his entire frame.
It's been so long since he's seen her that for a moment he can't think, he can't breathe. The curse of almost-endless age has faded his memories, but now she's here, standing in front of him and oh she is beautiful. His hand cups the side of her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheekbone as she leans into his touch. Covering his hand with hers, she gives a gentle squeeze and softly asks, "What's wrong?"
"I'm dying," he answers after a moment, his voice barely audible.
"Don't be ridiculous," she says and forces a reassuring smile, not wanting to believe him, even though the pain in his eyes tells her all she needs to know.
"I need your help, River," the Doctor says, wondering where exactly in their time line she is.
"Anything."
He leads her to his room, their room, and as he opens the door another bolt of pain strikes through his skin and beneath muscle, shooting through his very being and causing him to cry out. His vision darkens, and when it returns to normal, he finds himself on the floor, River leaning over him and panic in her eyes.
River grips his hand in hers, "Tell me what you need me to do."
"Vortex manipulator," he says between clenched teeth, nodding to where it rests on the bedside table, along with a tube of opened red lipstick and a pair of handcuffs.
He hauls himself onto the bed as she retrieves it, and he almost misses the jealousy that flashes in her eyes as her gaze sweeps over the room. It's just as they left it the night he took her to the Singing Towers- a green dress left on the floor in a pool of silk, black heels kicked off at the foot of the bed and a bowtie draped over the headboard. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips- definitely early days for her, then. Jealous of herself.
River sits on the edge of the bed beside him, vortex manipulator in hand. The Doctor straps it to her wrist and types in coordinates with shaking fingers, "This will take you back." Then he presses the sonic screwdriver into her hand, "The TARDIS is going to land, and when you walk out you'll see a computer. Plug this into it the moment the green bars start flashing," opening the neural relay compartment just long enough for her to see.
"And then what do I do with it?"
Smiling slightly, the Doctor curls his fingers over hers, wrapping the sonic in her hand, "Keep it. Save it for a rainy day."
The defeat in his voice suddenly makes it all seem so real to her, and she smooths her hand over his brow, running her fingers lightly through his hair as tears cloud her vision, "You can't die. You won't die."
It takes all he has for him to reach up and pop her lightly on the nose as he says, "You, River Song, are always so stubborn. Stop worrying. I can see it in your face, you know."
"But-" River starts, but he cuts her off. "Spoilers."
Tears roll gently down her face and he softly brushes them away with a swipe of his thumb. "Hey," the Doctor says softly, "You and me. Time and space. You watch us run."
Her grip on his hand tightens, and his eyes close as the sharpness of the pain begins to ebb. "Stay with me?"
"Of course, sweetie," River answers quietly, her voice shaking slightly. Her warmth seeps into him as she lies beside him, continuing to run her fingers soothingly through his hair. His arms slip around her waist and he pulls her as close as he can get her as he feels everything within him begin to shut down, a blacker than black darkness settling behind his eyes as his hearts slowly come to a stop.
XxX
The first time she met him after Berlin, he died. But then she saved him. Saved him here, to the data core of this book-filled planet that is no longer inhabited with people, but with flesh eating creatures of the shadows.
The very same creatures that she happens to be running from right now, her hearts all but pounding out of her chest and her hand in a man's who doesn't trust her. Yet.
There is always running to be done, she thinks as she pauses only long enough to blast a square-like hole in the bookshelves with her gun. But if she could, she wouldn't only be running from the Vashta Nerada, but away from the spiky-haired man beside her and his harsh, distrusting looks and words he throws so carelessly at her. She would run run run until she was in the comforting embrace of her Doctor, where she feels safe- where she feels more loved than anyone else in the entire universe.
But she can't, so instead she catches her breath when they finally find a safe haven beneath a domed ceiling that filters in the soft orange-red glow of sunset, and offers her help and her sonic screwdriver when needed.
Save it for a rainy day.
That's what he told her when he gave it to her, and never has she thought it's been more of an appropriate time than now. For her, it doesn't get much rainier than to look into this ridiculous man's eyes and see nothing- not love, not affection, not anything- and hear the question she's dreaded for what feels like a lifetime. Who are you?
It's not until she's sitting in a large, cold steel chair, the throne of death she calls it, and is wiring herself to the computer does she realize why he asked her to upload his conscience to the data core all those years ago.
Oh that clever man. He just never gives in, does he?
The first time she set foot in the Library it was filled with thousands of bustling people, but now, over a century later, it is completely silent. And this entire time he's been here. Waiting. Her Doctor.
They are not a fairytale, and this is not a fairytale ending. But as the countdown reaches zero and she is engulfed by a burning white light, she thinks that it is more than she could ever ask for.
When the light fades, she finds herself clothed in a silky white dress that feels cool against her skin and standing on the greenest grass she's ever seen.
"Hi, honey."
His voice causes her to spin on her heels, warmth and happiness blooming in her chest as she sees him standing there in all of his bow-tie wearing glory, a ridiculous grin spread across his face as he finishes, "You're home."
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