River looked over when the caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The Doctor leaned against the railing beside her, staring out at the great Singing Towers, barely visible under the light of solely the stars.
"You're crying," he said softly, without looking at her. "Are you sad?"
She touched her cheek gently and realized that she was, indeed, crying. She hadn't even realized. "Yes," she whispered back.
He turned his head and met her eyes. She could see lifetimes in those eyes, a hundred lifetimes. The Doctor, her Doctor, the impossible mad man with his blue box, traveling time and space. "Why?" he asked. As if he didn't already know.
"The sun," she said. In unison they both turned their faces outward again. Behind the monoliths, the sky had brightened ever so slightly. "It's rising."
"So it is."
River took his hand, her eyes still trained on the towers. Light touched them now, cast by the sun rising behind the couple. "It seems to happen so fast."
"Time is funny like that," he said. "A moment can feel like a lifetime, but sometimes twenty-four years feels like nothing."
He gave her hand a squeeze then released it, turning to lean back against the railing. She mirrored his motion, and the two faced the rising sun together. They'd stared into the faces of the Weeping Angels, witnessed the end of the universe and its rebirth, defied fate and time itself to be together. Now the sun was rising and River didn't think she'd ever seen anything so terrifying.
"River Song and the Doctor. A story, and like any other story it must come to an end." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
He shifted, causing her to lift her face, and when she did he kissed her lips. "But what a story it has been," he said.
"If this is our last night—" she began.
"I never said it was."
"You never said it wasn't," she countered.
A faint smile touched his lips, that mischievous smile she loved so much. She couldn't help but smile back, but at the same time her heart was breaking. "Spoilers," he said.
They stood there for… well, who really knows how long? Moments, a lifetime, an eternity. The sun rose before them, ending what River knew was the last night, even if he wouldn't say it. Twenty-four years together, a single night, the longest and most wonderful night of her life. But no matter how long the night, the sun inevitably rose. It always did. Not even the Doctor could stop that.
"You were wrong, you know," he said, breaking the silence.
"About what?" she said, exasperated. In this moment, he had the audacity to say such a thing?
"The sunrise can love you back."
She looked over at him again, admiring the sunlight washing over his features. So many faces, yet always the same man. A bit different each time, perhaps, but in the end he was still the man she loved. "You've never said it, not really," she said. "Once I suppose, but I didn't really know who you were. Who you would become to me. It doesn't count."
"Oh, River," he murmured. "Does it really need to be spoken?"
No, no it didn't. Sometimes words were the most powerful things in all the universe, but sometimes they were meaningless. He'd shown her time and time again, his actions speaking the words a hundred times over. His smile, his eyes, the way he looked at her.
River Song, the woman born to kill the Doctor but fell in love with him instead. Their timelines, woven inseparably together but never crossing in the right order. A story that transcended all possibility and yet here they were. At the Singing Towers of Darillium, with him smiling at her that said all the things words never could.
But most of all, they said the thing he could never, ever say to her.
Goodbye.
He kissed her again and stepped away, smiling broadly and holding his hand out to her. "Well, I suppose it's time to be off. Things to do. Worlds to save. And you, Dr. Song, have your archeology… stuff."
River wiped the remaining tears from her face and took his offered hand. "That I do."
The journey home was nothing special. They acted like nothing was different, their usual flirty remarks and casual banter flying around the room. After stepping out the TARDIS door, she turned back. He leaned against the doorframe of his blue box and smiled at her, but she could see the touch of sadness in his eyes. Easy to miss for some, but not for her. She knew him too well.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"I'm always alright," he replied. "Until next time, River Song." With that, he gave a flamboyant bow and stepped back into the TARDIS. She listened to the sound as it faded from sight and it drew an involuntary smile to her face. He always did leave the brakes on.