Craig sighed as he closed the curtains separating his home from the dark cold rain outside. He sank down onto the couch next to his daughter. Janie giggled and held the Blu-ray case out in front of her. Craig glanced at the front of the case and sighed again. Then he stood and stepped over to the TV, prepared to watch The Princess Bride once again.

It wasn't much of a trial—great movie, it was, truly—but this was the fourth time Janie had asked to watch the movie. This week. Sophie had told him their daughter would likely want to watch it a few times since Alfie wasn't there to dispute her choice. Sophie, as usual, was right.

Sophie and Alfie were due back the next morning from Alfie's school trip to what seemed like all the famous sights in London. This was the longest that Craig had been left alone with their four-year-old daughter, and he was rather looking forward to his wife and son's return home. It had been an interesting week.

But a lovely one, Craig considered as Janie cuddled into his side. The two of them had gotten some lovely father-daughter bonding time throughout the week. The opening words for the movie started and Janie, staring raptly at the screen, whispered along with the Grandfather's words. He glanced down at her and decided that she had, in fact, seen the movie too many times. She was four, for heaven's sake. Ridiculous that she could remember all of these long speeches.

Just as Robin Wright appeared on the screen in all her blonde glory, a knock sounded at the front door. Janie looked over the back of the couch at the door then back up at him, her big blue eyes widening. "You want to go get the door?" Craig asked.

Janie nodded emphatically. "But what about the movie?"

"I'll pause it until we settle whatever it is they want. That okay?" Janie nodded again and jumped off the couch to answer the door.

Craig listened as she opened the door. A voice he didn't recognize asked, "Is your father here?"

"He's on the couch!" Janie said in her sweetly high trill. "We were watching a movie."

"That's great. May I—speak to him, please?"

Craig stood up, prepared to politely send away the person at the door. His jaw fell open when he saw the woman standing at his door. "River Song?"

River nodded slowly. The rain had soaked her blonde curls into limp tendrils around her face. Her makeup was slightly smeared and the dark dress she wore was rumpled. Craig couldn't think of anything to do but stare for a bit. "Oh, come in," Craig said, suddenly realized she was still standing out in the cold.

"I'm so sorry to burst in on you like this," River murmured as she stepped inside. She glanced around the house. "Sophie away?"

Craig merely nodded. He honestly had no idea what to do. He'd never spent any amount of time with just River Song; the Doctor had always been there to provide some level of humanity/insanity/buffer between River and the humans.

Janie tugged at River's sleeve and River looked down at the child. "What's your name?" Janie asked with all the adorable innocence of a child.

River smiled. Craig noticed it was one of those smiles you always did for children when nothing was right—a fake smile, meant to reassure and comfort even when you're feeling none of those good feelings. Janie wouldn't notice the difference. "I'm River Song. What's your name?"

"I'm Jane Sophia Owens, but everyone calls me Janie." Janie looked River over for a moment and Craig squirmed. It was the deciding moment. "You can call me Janie," she added generously.

River nodded solemnly. "It's lovely to see you, Janie." She looked up at Craig. Craig didn't know her well at all, but he could recognize the begging in her eyes. She needed to talk to him, quickly.

"Janie love, I need to talk to River for a few minutes. Can you run up to your room and get ready for bed?" Janie pouted and opened her mouth to begin a complaint. Craig stopped her possible screeching with a nonnegotiable "We can finish the movie in the morning." Janie sighed overdramatically and ran upstairs.

River still stood in the foyer, her hair dripping slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked once he heard the door of Janie's room close behind her. "Can I get you a towel?

"She's grown up so much," River said absently, looking up toward the direction of Janie's room. "I'm so sorry to intrude on your night, and that would be great," she said. She glanced at the floor and shook her head. He ran off to the linen closet and grabbed the first towel he saw. Soon River was drying her hair as well as she could with the thin towel.

He stood opposite her without much idea of what to say. Finally he asked the only question he could think of. "Where's the Doctor?"

River laughed without any humor. "No idea. I'm not his keeper." Craig would have apologized or shrunk into the couch or better yet the next county at the hiss in her last word, but he could tell it wasn't directed at him. Entirely directed at the Doctor. No reason to leave yet. She shook her head and looked up at him apologetically. "Could I possibly spend the night? I can't go back right now and this was the first place I thought of."

Craig nodded. He motioned toward the guest room. He was suddenly grateful Sophie had made Alfie vacuum the room last week. It had been a nightmare. River clasped his hand in gratitude and wandered down the hallway to the room. Then he thought of something. "If he's looking for you, wouldn't he eventually come here?" His home was not an uncommon place for the Doctor, after all; three visits in the past ten years had to be worth something.

River looked back at him, shaking her head. There were tears in her eyes. "Not right now. Right now, he's going to avoid everyone he's ever loved."

Craig stared after her as she disappeared into the guest room. What had happened to make the Doctor, the man who loved everyone, run away and River Song, who was the person he'd probably feared most in all of his life, cry?

Not an hour later, as Craig was wandering around his house with nothing to do—it was only ten PM; Janie was asleep (he'd checked and brushed her hair back, like the good father he was now), River hadn't made another noise since the sob he'd heard not long after the door closed, and he wasn't even close to tired since he had had a week of rest without his son's antics to disrupt his sleeping cycle—someone knocked at the door.

Not so much knocking as banging. A desperate sort of LET ME IN OR ELSE I MAY DO SOMETHING UNTOWARD that would end with the knocking person sliding down the door to lie there in tearful agony until someone opened the door to help them up. To prevent this, Craig ran over to the door—Janie was the best kind of child who could sleep through anything, but he had no idea about his guest—and opened it.

The Doctor stood there. "Craig, please, help me, is River there?" The Doctor's tweed jacket was burned in several places, ripped in others. A particularly nasty gash on his arm revealed the same pale skin cut at least a centimeter down in a mark that had left the surrounding cloth nearly drenched in blood. His eyes were wild and red-rimmed and his hair was mussed; he looked like he hadn't slept in a week and the time he'd been awake had been spent in crying, screaming, and hair-ruffling. And… possibly sword fighting.

"Doctor, what—"

"Craig, please. Is my wife here." When Craig didn't speak—what could he say? Clearly River was running from the Doctor and none of this was his business even though he really desperately wanted to know what the hell happened, and he couldn't tell the Doctor she was there, that wasn't how a host acted—the Doctor turned to go back to the TARDIS he saw on the front lawn. His head was down and he was muttering to himself, probably about where to look next, and Craig had never seen a sadder sight. Or more disturbing—there may have been blood actually dripping from the arm.

From behind him, Craig heard a voice. "Doctor." River was standing just behind him, her arms crossed tightly around herself.

The Doctor whipped around. "River…" he breathed. He took one step back to the door but stopped immediately. "Please, can I come in?"

"Not my house," River said drily, turning around to walk back into the living room. The Doctor stared up at Craig with what he could only describe as puppy eyes, and Craig nodded slowly. Sophie wouldn't want that amount of blood in the house, but what could he do? The Doctor immediately ran up to the door and stepped past him neatly, careful not to touch him with his bleeding arm.

The TARDIS chirped and Craig jumped. He closed the door behind him, keeping eye contact with the box. Eye contact? That was certainly what it felt like. Then he turned to the couple standing in his living room. The Doctor was staring at River and River was staring at the floor.

At least they were in the same room. That was something.

Craig stared at the mess his life had become—again—these two really needed to stop visiting. He ran off to his bedroom, found a t-shirt he hadn't worn in a few months, and grabbed the laundry basket from the floor. He took a deep breath and addressed the aliens in his living room. "Doctor, could you put your shirt and jacket in this basket and we'll deal with the cut? Sophie would freak out if there was blood on the furniture. I don't want to know what happened, a human would be dead with that much blood loss."

The Doctor finally looked away from River and glanced down at his blood-soaked jacket. "Oh, of course, but the cut's fine, it'll be healed within an hour." He clumsily shrugged his jacket off and even River hissed through her teeth when they saw the cut on his arm in full glory. He peeked up at River before unbuttoning his ripped shirt.

Then there was a lot of bloody clothing in his laundry basket. Sophie was going to kill him. The Doctor put the shirt on and Craig ran off to get the first-aid. Apparently the Time Lord would heal quickly, but he didn't want to look at the wound for longer than necessary.

He heard River from the bathroom. "What happened?" Her voice was begrudging, sorry that she felt obligated to ask.

"Went to Amanopia," the Doctor answered quickly. "I was—I couldn't think of anywhere to go, and the TARDIS decided I deserved to get a limb almost hacked off."

Craig didn't hear River's response but the eye roll he saw was answer enough. He handed the gauze wrap to the Doctor and stood awkwardly by as the Doctor awkwardly figured out how to wrap his own arm. What had the man done?

When the wound was bandaged, the three of them stood and stared—River at the floor, the Doctor at River, and Craig at both of them. Finally, he could take it no more. It was time for a Craig Intervention.

"What in the hell has happened between you two?" River turned an icy glare onto him and the Doctor's eyes pleaded an ABORT but he didn't stop. "River's run all the way here to get away from you, and you show up looking like you've run through a war crying the whole time." He softened his voice, since River looked like she was ready to run across the universe again and the Doctor looked like he was about to cry. "What happened?"

Neither of them said anything. Craig sighed. They were acting like Alfie and Janie. Except it was way different—both of them were older than him, they were married, and it was definitely something more serious than "she stole my Legos" or "he stuck his tongue out at me." He sat down on the ottoman and stared at them.

"You shouldn't have come," River finally said, turning around to head to the guest room. The Doctor reached for her, nearly inaudible words barely forming, and his fingers brushed her right wrist. Both of them stiffened and River spun around to slap him. Then she took the last few steps to the guest room in one.

The door slammed behind her. Craig jumped; the Doctor slumped into a sad puddle of a man. He turned around to face Craig and Craig's heart twisted. The Doctor wasn't crying again, but his eyes were rimmed with red and full of unshed sorrows. His cheek was already turning pink. Without being prompted, he circled the couch and sat down, letting his head fall into his hands.

"What happened?" Craig repeated.

The Doctor took a shaking breath, raising his head just enough to stare at the floor. "I took Amy and—I took Amy and Rory to Manhattan. Just in 2012, just a little trip for fun. I wasn't paying attention, and the Angels took Rory, took him back to the 1930s."

"The Angels?" Craig had to interrupt.

The Doctor waved a hand and summed up the story of pain in a few sentences that didn't make any more sense. Craig gathered that, basically, the Ponds were gone. Forever. "The timelines are too messed up. I can't ever go back to New York in that time. The consequences would be too much. Even River can't go see her parents unless she's very, very delicate about it."

"You forgot a part," River said suddenly. Craig and the Doctor both whipped around to face her. Her bag rested at her feet and her arms were crossed, but she was rubbing her right wrist. Unconsciously, Craig thought. Whiplash (was that the right term, he wondered) from slapping the Doctor? Or something else?

The Doctor stood, that anger back on his face. "I will not apologize for—"

River stiffened again and turned toward the door. "Then I have nothing to say—"

The Doctor jumped over the couch to stand in front of her. "River, please—"

"Doctor, stop this. I'm leaving now, and you're not going to follow me."

"No, not until you hear me out—"

A rough laugh. "Why should I listen to you?"

With that, Craig decided to join his daughter, and he took the stairs to Janie's room as quietly and quickly as he could. There were some things he didn't want to hear. Judging by the last conversation the two Time Lords had had in his living room, this was one of those things.

"What's going on, Daddy?" Janie asked. She was not, as Craig had hoped, asleep. She was, as he had feared, fully awake and listening intently to the screaming going on downstairs.

"River's husband is here," Craig explained softly. "They're having a bit of an argument."

Janie's eyes widened. "The Doctor?" she asked incredulously, thankfully copying his soft tone. "What's wrong?"

"It's all right, honey, they'll get it sorted out," Craig said hastily. She looked like she was prepared to go fight a battle. "For now, I'm going to stay with you and we'll recite the rest of The Princess Bride until one of us is asleep."

After an hour, Janie won the race to sleep. For a while, Craig lay on the bed with his daughter cuddled next to him and waited until the noise downstairs quieted. Time Lords had a very good lung capacity, judging by how long they were able to screech without breathing.

Craig had to wonder what had really happened between the two Time Lords. It was evident in their faces and reactions to each other's presence that they were still completely in love, so that wasn't the problem. He wondered what the Doctor had left out in his story of Manhattan.

Finally he stood up, settled Janie in her blankets, and crept to the stairs. The noise had settled—the death throes of the argument.

"You can't waste your regeneration energy on me, my love," River whispered. It sounded like they were standing in the living room. He couldn't quite tell; stepping out any further would reveal his location. "I won't stand for that."

"Why can't you understand that you are worth it?" the Doctor asked, his voice breaking.

"I've never been worth it before. I've always known it. Just because I was about to lose my parents—we both knew it, don't lie to me. They left me without a thought. If you could have, you would have gone with them. I don't deserve—" A slight gasp.

Craig took a step down the stairs. The Doctor was kneeling at River's feet. "Melody Pond, when I met you, you mesmerized me. I had to know who you were. I researched you for months, every spare moment I had. Then I met you again, and I couldn't let you go, even when I should have. I have met you a thousand times in a thousand different ways, and you have been worth it every single time. I don't know why you can't see it or why I can't show it, but you are the only thing left that matters to me."

Craig saw River's face. Tear-streaked and red—but fighting a smile. Beautiful. "You don't mean that."

"I would leave everything behind, give everyone up, and sacrifice worlds to keep you safe, River Song." The Doctor stood again and gazed down at her. His eyes sparkled with tears and knowledge and worlds beyond their own. "Amelia never had to tell you to watch over me, or whichever way she said. It's my greatest privilege to stand at your side while you're being awesome. And I never considered going with Amy and Rory. I love them, and I'll probably always mourn them. But, River, you're my wife. I love you more than anything, and to lose you would kill me."

River searched his eyes. Craig waited to see if she would find what she needed within those old depths. She whispered something, perhaps that language he'd heard them murmuring in all those years ago. Finally, finally, they kissed. Craig wanted to cheer, but it probably wasn't a good moment for that. He crept back up the stairs, satisfied that two of his oldest friends would be okay.

When he got up the next morning, the Doctor and River were gone. The living room was spotless and the front door was locked again, and it had been painted in a jarring bright blue. He groaned—Sophie was going to be mad—but he wasn't even surprised. A note rested on the kitchen table.

Dear Craig, Thank you for opening your home to us again. The handwriting switched to decidedly less elegant. Sorry for all of the mess and noise last night. River says that it was very not good of us, and I apologize for that. But— a handwriting more feminine –you have enabled us to resolve those problems. The Doctor has learned to ask permission before risking his life, and I have learned to accept help. Yes, that was what most of the screaming was about. He's incorrigible. The Doctor again. It may be a long time before you see us again. Honestly, no idea how long it was before. Actually, River's telling me that Janie's about five now. Oops. Sorry, Craig. But we have to fix our broken hearts, and I'm thinking that'll be on a cloud in Victorian London. River again. Why he thinks that, I've no idea. But I hope to see you again. Blessings on you and your family, always.

Craig stared at the note. Gone again without a word. Lovely. He flipped the note over, hoping for some kind of post-script. He was not disappointed. Expect us in about a year your time. We'll come visit. Did you really think it would be that easy to get rid of us?

Craig glanced at the newly painted bright blue door and sighed. "Of course not, Doctor."

He barely heard a mechanical whooshing fade away, into all of time and space.