Yes, this is season-six centric, and about the Doctor and River. (Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock, you say, when do you write anything else?) I'll be continuing to try my hand at more current stuff as the season progresses, though, so no worries.

But for now, this is my offering to explain one of the problems people sometimes have with the season six finale: if the Doctor was so sure he was going to die, how did he change his mind so quickly? Well, here's my take on it. Enjoy!

Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock

Not Yet Ready

He wasn't ready. He'd put this off for as long as absolutely possible and he still wasn't ready. How could he be, even knowing that this had to be done?

Thus it was with heavy hearts that the Doctor piloted his ship and went to call on Professor River Song.

After being so long in her past, even delving into the times of her previous regenerations, the Time Lord was unsure of how to approach this version of the woman he had first met. She was River, yes, she would always be River, and yet he felt she might be the most challenging of the lot.

Perhaps it would be easier if he didn't know where they were going—rather, where he was taking her: Darillium. Oh, how a place he might once have boasted as beautiful now sounded bitter even in his thoughts. River Song certainly knew how to pick them, and knowing her as much as he did he wouldn't expect anything less.

Yet that was the problem: as much as he did. It implied something not quite finished, something lacking, to his mind. As much as he did know her wasn't as much as he wanted to, wasn't as much as he felt he should.

Instead he felt cheated, and even more so that he was cheating her. Because the way she had spoken of this one last so very special trip as her seconds had counted down…the Doctor didn't think he knew how to give her such final solace. His own fault of course, squandering the precious little time they'd had, thoughts of a single kiss at the door of her cell stirring a torrid mixture of guilt and longing in his gut.

If the universe was so determined that he abruptly come to the end of it all, why had it allowed him to get just a glimpse, a taste, of what he would lose?

But that day, a day he'd promised never to change, was now this day. It had to be, for there was to be no time left, for either of them. She off to the Library, and he off to the Lake. How funny, that.

He still wasn't ready. But he had lingered in the TARDIS too long after materializing, it seemed, for the doors opened of their own accord. Of course they would for her.

"Impatient to be off somewhere, my love?"

He somehow managed to turn from the controls and face her, but what he saw made his breath catch in surprise. She was dressed in a loosely draped sweater that still displayed enough of her collarbone to draw his eye and make him gulp. It was paired with a long skirt and sandals, the whole thing done in creamy, off-white tones. That with her tanned skin and the hair she'd left down combined to give her an almost golden glow; serene, brilliant, and shining, even after the universe had tried its very best to stop her.

So of course it had called on him to do it instead.

River had been doing her own appraisal of him during all this, and a smile curved her ample lips upward. "Loving the suit. And did you actually trim your hair?"

He ran a self-conscious hand through the fringe hanging at the front. "Maybe, yes. Only the best for you, River Song."

She laughed rich and full, a sound that thrilled his hearts to hear, and walked up to meet him at the console. "I suppose you already have a destination in mind, Sweetie? Or do I have a say in the matter?"

And just like that his everything seemed to shudder to a stop. Did she have a say? In the past, perhaps, it will be her choice all those years ago when she'd told him where they would be going. And yet here in the now it was his. How easy it would be to simply shrug, offer her a range of alternatives anywhere from now to the edge of all existence—a list of planets and dates and stars well-suited for a night out readily supplied itself in his mind—

"Doctor?" River was prompting him, a clear indication he was taking too long, and a concerned light was in her eyes.

"I…" The game was up before it had even begun. He'd hesitated, something the Doctor never did, leastways not when he was trading words with her. He felt a fool with only the consolation that he'd known he wasn't ready.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" He tried for a laugh, but it came out more hysterical than he'd intended, so he stopped. What was wrong with him? So he was meeting up for an evening with a woman and they'd both soon be dead by the other's hand, this should be easy!

He was startled when she reached out and cupped his cheek. "Doctor, please, tell me," she pleaded, full-on worried now.

"I—can't," he shook his head, stepping away and bracing his hands against the railing, hunched in on himself. "Spoilers," he muttered.

She was quiet, the air seeming to thicken with each passing moment, and he wondered when the last time was that she would've heard him say that. He felt like he was only just getting used to it, breaking the word in.

Finally he felt more than saw her presence at his side. "When are we for you, Doctor?"

A wry smirk threatened to cross his face. My, wouldn't this be a trip down memory lane for her? "Berlin. I saw you last in Berlin. Actually, at the Sisterhood where I dropped you off, but you know, who's counting?"

"You apparently. So, you thought you'd come see how I turned out?" She asked this in a lighter tone, no doubt trying to test if this was truly his only trouble. River Song was taking up his entire periphery as she leaned a little closer. "But you should already know, Doctor."

He glanced at her face but avoided meeting the eyes. A normal person probably wouldn't see the difference. "Yes."

But River Song was no normal person. Still, she backed away a pace, giving him the breathing room he hadn't yet realized he needed. "Mum and dad couldn't make it, then?"

"They're home," he told her.

She didn't seem too concerned with the weight he'd given the words. "Would've liked to see them, but I suppose we'll just have our own fun, won't we?" She finished with a bright smile but the Doctor could not possibly return it. How long had it been for her since she last saw her parents? Had he been wrong to separate them, had he not brought them to visit often enough? Another cruelty he'd dealt his Ponds.

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you popped in," he managed, tapping at his wrist. "But they are home now, River."

She took note at last of the finality in that statement, and perhaps this had all been child's play for the professor who knew him so well, for she didn't even struggle to find the correct question. "Doctor, how old are you?"

He paused only a moment longer. Should it really matter if he said? He'd already botched this far beyond the power to fix it. "1103. We both know what that means, River."

She took another step back, involuntary this time, and it was a moment before she could compose herself. Her cheeks were still pale and eyes wide as if—as people often described—she was seeing not him, but his ghost already. Or perhaps she always had been, and now they both knew it. "You looked at the information about you in the Teselecta."

"Lake Silencio," was his answer. "Got a couple other things to do and then that'll be the next stop." He didn't say last stop. He didn't dare say last, couldn't even bring himself to.

"Why did you come here?" It wasn't angry, but tired. She was tired, no doubt, of this unshakeable fact of her past returning over and over to haunt her. He knew the feeling.

"Because there's something I have to do," he answered truthfully, solemnly, hand hovering over the dematerialization lever. He would just have to take her to the Towers and she could forget this pain awhile standing in awe of them, and he would cry because of course oh what a night that was had been awful, and not wonderful, and that was why she'd remembered it so well. This truly was the proper him indeed.

And the Doctor hated, hated, hated himself knowing it wouldn't be purely for her sake he would cry.

"There's something—" he started again, trying to gain the strength from it that he needed to carry them through this. But he happened to glance her way and it made the rest of the words die in his throat.

Professor Song's head was bowed and her eyes closed at his pronouncement. She didn't seem uninterested in whatever action he was about to take, but rather expectant. Like she'd been waiting for all time for this moment. And it wasn't the Singing Towers of Darillium. No, the Doctor thought he knew just what it was.

He couldn't give her that, though, and he didn't want to. In fact, he wanted to give her something else entirely, and he didn't need a fantastic landscape to do it, timelines be damned.

"There's something I have to say," he corrected softly, his hand falling away from the lever. In the next moment, both his hands were reaching out to grasp hers. "I know, River, what's waiting for me at the lake. Who's waiting for me. It's you, it's always been you. And that's ok."

Her eyes snapped open, regarding him with an expression of horrified hope. Only she could manage something like that. "Doctor," she breathed, as if testing that it really was him before her saying this.

"You were forced," he continued, and without even being there yet he already knew. He hoped she did as well. "Either way the records name you as the woman who kills me. And you know what?"

She wrenched her hands away and turned slightly as if that alone would stop his words. "Don't say it, don't you dare say it you stupid—"

But nothing could keep the grin off his face at the weight that had lifted from him as he felt and then said it, "I don't care. Well, maybe a little," he amended under her disbelieving stare. "But only because, River Song, there was something I told you the last time I saw you. It's still true," he simply declared. She knew instantly to what he was referring, he could tell by the way she drew in a sharp breath. His voice wavered only slightly as he added, "I only wish I'd had more time to tell you."

The first thing she did was to step closer once again. Then she shook her head in grudging amazement. "You daft man." And then she was kissing him.

This was perhaps the most prepared he'd ever been, and the Doctor most certainly kissed her back—on the mouth, that was, not actually her back. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of it, and wished he could get used to it.

She remained close, standing in the circle of his arms—and when had those got there?—her hands on either side of his face. "You have all the time in the universe," she told him softly, gaze locked onto his as if she could implant the thought in his own mind purely through eye contact.

And did he ever want to believe something so strongly. But he'd already faced the facts. She'd soon be too. "I can't run forever."

"Nobody can," she said, and something tight in his chest clenched. His hearts, he'd say if it were biologically possible. "But just because there are some who want the Doctor to stop, doesn't mean the rest of the universe does. If there's nothing else we can do, my love, remember that."

Why would she bother saying all this when she knew, when she'd already been there? Didn't she know there was no way for him to stop her past self? He had to make her see. "River," he began, but she placed a finger to his lips.

"Just remember."

He sighed heavily. "I might have guessed you'd be like this."

"And I might have guessed you'd be," she returned. He hung his head slightly and stepped away. So she hadn't wanted this reminder. Tricky, wasn't it, being in love with one of the dead? "In Berlin, I asked my mother a question." He looked up at her sharply, bewildered by the seemingly random change in topic. "You were dead," she supplied helpfully, "And I asked her if the Doctor was worth it. Amy said yes." He had to smile at that, but it was bittersweet. Of course his Amelia would. "And you have been. Always and completely."

It was a true smile he wore now. He was worth it. Even after all the pain and suffering she'd been dealt, and would be, because of him and she still believed that. He must be the luckiest man alive, however shortly that would last. It was something he could die with the knowledge of tucked happily in his hearts.

So the Doctor ticked off another of their firsts, and possibly lasts; he kissed her. "Professor River Song," he savored every syllable. "Thank you." His gaze was drawn to the TARDIS console, though, and the smile he still had slowly faded. "It's time."

"Then I'll be seeing you soon, I expect." She retreated down the steps to the front door. Timelines dictated he call her back and set course for Darillium.

"You will," he answered her instead, and with a last shared look he let her go. He wasn't ready, and she deserved better. It had to be worth it.

OoO

He didn't go back, and as he became more and more mired in the tangled mystery of just what was the Silence and why he kept thoughts of River Song to himself, only knowing that yes, he would be seeing her.

And so it took him a moment, as he walked out the door, to truly process the words that Carter had spoken, but had emanated from the Teselecta: "Is there nothing else we can do?"

Oh. Oh. Just remember. That's what she'd been telling him all along. His clever, mad River Song.

"Actually, thinking about it," the Doctor grinned.

She'd brought him back to life all over again.

So yeah. I figure if the Doctor really thought he was dying, he would have at least tried to do Darillium to maintain the timelines (though we know because of the season six extras that he doesn't actually do it till after faking his death). So in this, River decided to take the opportunity to point him in the right direction. Couple of lines at the end there come from episodes like "The Wedding of River Song", and there's references to other episodes in case you noticed those. None of it mine, just having some fun. Would love to hear your thoughts, so thanks for reading and please review!