Disclaimer: Recognizable characters are not my own - I just borrow them.
Pairing: River/Eleven
Summary: He experiences River's fear of water in reverse, which is probably for the best.
Written: 4/19/14-5/17/15
Title: "Take Me to the River" - Talking Heads
Rated: Mature
Thanks to: Beverly, Becs and Megs for all their support through the ridiculous amount of time it took me to finish this.
Drop me in the water
He experiences River's fear of water in reverse, which is probably for the best. When he's too young to know any better, River is diving off buildings and into the TARDIS pool; smirking at him when he hurries to pass her a towel, blushing at the way her clothing clings wetly to all her curves.
After Utah, he begins to understand. He packs an umbrella in his coat and actually does environmental checks to avoid rain.
He makes it a point to always be there to help her out of the swimming pool, after she's dived in, towel in hand as he waits for her to surface. As soon as the TARDIS doors close behind her, he spins them into the vortex and rushes to the pool. The TARDIS even provides a direct route to help, River ever her favorite. He hurries to chastise her or to find out what happened or, the first time, out of sheer amazement that it worked and how did she know?
It happens so often that he doesn't stop to think about firsts and lasts until he reaches the pool and she doesn't emerge. Hearts in his throat, the Doctor drops the fluffy rainbow towel and dives in after her.
She's sitting at the bottom, frozen even as he drags her to the surface and out on to the safety of the ledge.
"River. River!"
He runs his hands along her chilled, shaking form to warm her, fingers racing across her, rough in his panic. At last - at last - she takes a shuddering, wrenching, gasping breath. "There was so much water. I hadn't thought - it was everywhere. Crushing."
He gathers her into his arms, evening gown and all, until she stops shaking. He tries hard not to think that this is the first - last - time River will ever dive off a building and into his TARDIS, or of the memories she faced every time she did.
She kisses him then. Hard and desperate and a bit too sharp.
"Wait," he pulls back, "where are we?" There's no getting diaries out while they're soaking.
"Far enough," she shifts restlessly against him, weighted down by her gown. "And you, Doctor?"
"That's not how it works," he admonishes gently, wary of being the one with spoilers.
"Why not?" She shifts in his arms again, and he can hear the plea she doesn't voice - see it in her eyes.
"All right," he scrubs a hand through his hair and gives in to her, as always. "Yes. Far enough."
He lets her kiss him then, but her lips are salty from the pool or her tears and the Doctor nearly blanches, horrified. He wants to tell her to wait, again. How can she possibly expect him to... all he wants to do is comfort her.
But River is already undoing his clothes, her fingers cold even against his chilled skin. She peels his coat, braces and shirt off, leaving him shivering despite the perfectly moderate climate inside the TARDIS. He catches her hands as she goes for his trousers, trying to slow her down.
"River..."
She shushes his concerns with another kiss, shifting on his lap until she can roll her hips over his impatiently. The Doctor sighs into her mouth but gives in. Even as worried as he is, his body responds to River's, too attuned to her to do anything but.
Her skirt bunches up, sodden, between them. River must be soaked to the bone. He needs to get her undressed and warm and dry and safe, and he has no idea how to accomplish all that when she seems determined to distract them both, trailing kisses down his neck while her fingers stroke along his waistband.
As usual, River's gown is something of a challenge. The Doctor manages to undo the ties to her corset despite the water tightening the knot, but River's breathing is still shallow and her lips are urgent at his throat and it's taking too long to loosen. He digs his fingers into the edges between the lacings and pries the corset apart until he can drag it over River's head and toss it away. River sucks in a deep breath and shivers, and the Doctor hurries to wrap his arms around her in the corset's stead, trying to warm her as best he can. Her skin is damp even through the silky fabric still clinging to her.
Almost as soon as she's caught her breath, River is moving again, nipping at his jaw with sharp teeth and freeing him from his trousers and pants with only a minor struggle against the waterlogged fabric.
"Doctor?"
He bats her hand away, still not quite recovered from the fright she's given him, and hating the wobble to her voice as she says his name. "Shh, it's all right, just give us a mo'."
Giving up on finding the zip to her gown, the Doctor slips his hand under her skirt until he can circle his fingers over her clit gently.
River doesn't want him gentle, of course, but the Doctor cuts off her protests with his lips across her skin, waiting for her body to warm and relax against his. He works her up as slowly as he dares, increasing the pressure and speed of his motions ever so slightly with each circle of his fingertips until her skin is hot to the touch and her voice hitches on a pleased whimper.
He wants to take his time to drag her over the edge. He wants to show her all the things he never quite manages to say. How sorry he is. How desperately much he loves her.
Instead, River catches his wrist and shoves it away, grasping him firmly and sinking down over his cock with a rough drop, almost immediately lifting her hips again and setting a punishing pace.
She's terribly tight around him, almost burning hot compared to lukewarm air and drenched clothing. The Doctor stifles a groan and brings his hand back between them until River shudders against his fingers and around his cock, sinking her teeth into the Doctor's lip to stifle her scream.
The Doctor yelps, nursing his injured lip, but River hardly pauses her momentum, kissing him better with a ragged laugh and rocking her hips faster still over his, determined to wring them both of everything.
River is positively wild, rough like they've just run or fought for their lives, the adrenaline and fear and pleasure all twisted up together like raw nerves. But if this is what she wants - what she needs, well, the Doctor never can deny her anything.
Fingers curled over River's hips, the Doctor rolls them until he has River pinned against the hard marble floor. He ducks his head to her breasts, teasing her hard nipples through the sheer, thin fabric of her shift as he drives into her.
River keens, nails digging into his back and her body arching up to meet his. He thrusts hard enough to send them sliding across the tile, River's damp dress little friction against the smooth stone.
He wants to drive away every nightmare and demon plaguing her. Their bodies are hot and sticky damp now as he covers her body with his own. River wraps her legs painfully tight around his waist, her heels shoving his trousers down to tangle about his thighs.
His blood is hot and pounding, through him and into her, driving him harder and faster as they move together, always desperate. River trembles under his hands and mouth and cock, all breathless moans of pleasure and demands for more.
This time, River falls apart utterly and completely, her moan ending in a ragged scream as she clutches at him, eyes wide and unfocused. The Doctor can't hold out any longer, shuddering into her with his own hoarse shout.
They collapse where they are, the Doctor burying his head in River's neck and breathing in the salty taste of her sweat and the water still clinging to them. Slowly, their breathing quiets until the soft lap of waves is the only sound, echoing through the cavernous halls.
Penitent, the Doctor rolls them gently until River is the one pillowed on his chest, stroking her damp hair out of her face. They part carefully, shoving at their tangled clothes until the sodden cloth falls away.
River stands, regarding her ruined gown with critical eyes and avoiding his. "Do you think the TARDIS can save it? Really, falling into the pool seemed preferable to the raging mob at the time..."
Her voice is still a little too sharp to be properly convincing. The Doctor brushes his hands gently across River's arms, enduring her flinch, and presses his lips to the spot just below her ear that always makes her melt. "You didn't fall, River. I caught you."
She retrieves the over-sized, plush towel he had abandoned when he dove into the pool, eyeing its rainbow stripes. "You were awfully well-prepared. Do I make it something of a habit?"
"Spoilers." The word still tastes bitter on his tongue, though he no longer stumbles over uttering it.
River finally meets his eyes at that, confusion fighting intrigue and still a hint of fear. At last, River manages to shake it off, offering him half the towel and cuddling under it with him. Her fingers trace carefully across his injured lower lip. "I might, you know," the normal teasing depth is back to her voice, "if this is how you greet me."
The Doctor huffs and steers her toward their bedroom, rambling about spoilers and bad habits and how hard it is to dry tweed, immeasurably relieved to see the shadows have disappeared from behind River's eyes.
He stays while River sleeps, just in case. Occupying himself by carefully rearranging her curls and trying to remember where he left the bubble room and wondering whether or not the TARDIS would let him erase the pool, just temporarily.
Exhausted and wrapped in his arms, River sleeps peacefully, for a time. Almost as soon as she hits her REM cycle, the nightmares start. He's sadly well acquainted with nightmares - his not least of all. These are particularly bad, leaving her struggling and fighting against them - against him.
"No. No! Doctor - no, Doctor!" Her voice cracks on his name.
The raw agony contained in her voice, in her dreams, pierces his hearts and leaves the Doctor breathless. He can stand just about anything, but to see River suffering. And to see her suffering over him…
He tries desperately to help, but with River fighting against her nightmares, she nearly tosses him out of their bed before he manages to wrap himself around her and press his lips to her temple.
"Shh, it's all right, River. You're safe. I'm here, and I'm alive." He breathes the words across her mind, and watches as the dark swirl of her thoughts settles into soft waves.
Withdrawing carefully, the Doctor presses another kiss to River's temple and holds her close, perhaps a little too tightly. He rests his head next to hers to chase away any resurrected nightmares.
He lets her sleep a few more hours (it feels like forever, but really it's only three hours and thirty seven minutes), until he can't wait any longer and he's reasonably certain that she's had enough rest - she needs far more than him and far less than ordinary humans, and he's never quite figured out what that actually means. River, of course, refuses to tell him.
The Doctor wakes River gently, scattering kisses across her face until her nose scrunches up and she blinks one irritable eye open to glare at him, even as she bites back a sleepy smile. She bats him away, yawning and stretching, and the Doctor watches her anxiously. "How did you sleep?"
"Surprisingly well," River arches an eyebrow in a way that clearly says she knows the reason for that. "Did you stay here the entire time?"
Shrugging, the Doctor presses his lips to River's bare shoulder, hiding from her knowing gaze.
Her hand comes up to card through his hair fondly. "Thank you, sweetie."
"Nowhere I'd rather be," he whispers against her skin before pulling back and offering her a carefree grin. "Now, I've something to show you, River Song. Let's go."
"Go where?"
But River lets him tug her out of bed and lead her down winding corridors, stopping only long enough to grab them both dressing gowns.
It's been a long time since he's been in this room, if it even still exists, and the Doctor pats the TARDIS walls absently at every junction, hoping his old girl will lead him there if his memory fails - for River, at least.
Still, it takes some time. River's curiosity starts to give way to irritation at being dragged out of bed, and her voice is sharp as she asks, for the fourth time, "Are you quite certain you know where you're going, Doctor?"
He squeezes her hand, "Almost there."
It's blind luck - or perhaps the TARDIS taking pity on them - that the right room happens to be just around the next corner.
River bites her lip as she takes in the heavy steel door. "What's this then - I've never seen this room before? Is this some terribly kinky game, Doctor?"
The Doctor fights to hold back his grin, ignoring the insinuation. "Open it up and see."
Never one to resist a mysterious door, River immediately makes for it. Her breath catches when the door opens, and the Doctor can't hold back a happy giggle as he watches her expression.
The salt pools of Zyopia are copper like the waters of Gallifrey, thick and shiny like jelly, and utterly buoyant. It looks like a giant mineral bubble, rather than a pool, and the Doctor has always found the soft light and mineral scent instantly relaxing.
Initial enchantment giving way to doubt, River taps a tentative toe against the bouncy not-liquid and turns back to the Doctor, astonished. "What is this?"
"Watch," the Doctor cuts off her question, shrugging off his dressing gown and diving headfirst into the pool before River can think to stop him. He bounces harmlessly amongst the soft saltwater, light and tingling against his limbs as the high salt-content gently nudges him upright until he's floating there.
River's eyes dart between the Doctor, the pool and the door, and the Doctor sighs at her hesitation. "Zyopian salt pool. You can't so much swim as float, and it feels a bit like being inside a giant squishy pillow, except not at all like that - but it's really quite good for the skin, or so I'm told." He catches River's gaze and drops the nonchalant tone. "Most importantly, there's absolutely no way to submerge more than 57% of your body at any given time. It's perfectly safe."
"You said that about the Horbesian houseplant that turned out to be carnivorous," River huffs, trying to distract him and looking very much like she wishes he would come out of there.
The Doctor reclines his hands behind his head and paddles further into the middle of the pool. "It's perfectly safe," he repeats. "No carnivorous lifeforms. I've checked."
Biting her lip nervously, River discards her dressing gown and settles on the edge of the pool, dipping her toe back in. The Doctor makes a rather undignified attempt to turn himself around in the too-buoyant not-water before managing to walk-swim back to River. He holds out his hands and River takes them with a laugh, letting him lead her fully into the pool.
Her grip is crushingly tight for the first moment, until she adjusts to the weightless feeling. It takes another moment for the soothing salt to work its magic, and the Doctor watches the tension gradually leech out of River, until her grip is soft and her smile is softer.
They float there together, laughing and playing, until the salt threatens to dry them out completely. River shakes thick copper droplets out of her hair and squeezes the Doctor's hand gently, and he forgets all about firsts and lasts as he basks in the radiance of her smile.