Disclaimer : Of course Dr Who is not mine, neither River Song (sadly)
Secondly, english is not my native langage, so translating my french words into it is quite difficult. I'm afraid it could be wonky many times. Please, tell me if that's understandable. I have a second part (with 11th and 12th) in my mind. But my english won't be better (unless someone wants to help me with my mistakes). Would you read this second part anyway ?
The seat was empty. He had closed his eyes only for one split second, when the transfer's light had been too bright, and when he had reopened them, the seat was empty. She had disappeared, the infuriated woman, the space-haired woman, the woman with indomitable courage. The woman who had tried to comfort him, even few seconds before of her own death. The woman who knew his real name. And suddenly the universe seemed a little bit colder, a little bit emptier. The prinstripe suit's Doctor felt his body sagging on the floor, the handcuff's steel - that still held him chained - biting his flesh.
Who was she ? She had said he would see her again, had promised him time and space. But who was she ? To him ? How could he accept to give her a place in his life, in his hearts, with her last moments printed on retina ? What kind of man would he become to accept that ? Not a line, she said. Don't you dare. Who was she to forbid this to him ? What had they lived to give this intensity to her voice, at her death's door ? And why it hurted so much, so much, between heartbeats ? He didn't knows her. Not really. He felt like a part of his soul had been torn away from him.
A lonely tear slid down his cheek without even him being aware of it. Nor the footfall behind him until the stranger was within three feet, squatting by his side.
Then the Doctor turned quickly, and met the surprisingly old eyes of a young man. It was a kid, actually, barely out of his 20s, with his limbs of lanky teenage gone to seed and his floppy hair, a little long. A lock of this hair was falling back toward his face. It was a kid with an incredibly weird fashion sense. Was he a survivor of the library ? A lunatic student wearing his ancestor's bow tie, waistcoat and purple tweed frock coat ?
The strange pale blue gaze - almost gray - drifted from the Doctor to the empty chair, and the young man swallowed. His chin - damn it, if Cyrano had said a tirade about his nose, this stranger could do the same about his chin ! - his chin, thus, shook and he lowered his head, closing his eyes. His hair came to sweep his closed eyelids and he remained motionless for a long time, on his heels.
"I thought it would be too painful to say goodbye to her, and I was right, sandshoes. I was right"
The Doctor's eyes widened as he finally felt the smell of Time coming from the stranger. He barely held the complaint that threatened to come out of his own throat when Bowtie took out his sonic and unlocked the handcuffs, without even opening his eyes. It was him. His Doctor.
"But you know what's even more painful ?" The voice was hoarse, almost inodible. "To know that it's over. Know that I won't see her again, I won't touch her again. Her hand in ours, Sandshoes, is the greatest gift of the universe."
Bowtie clenched his fist over the sonic, still not looking at his younger himself. His lips tightened in a thin line, bloodless, before he started again.
"I know you don't believe me. I know you won't hear if I tell you the honest truth. Just her is smart enough for us, crazy enough, brillant enough. You think you know love, but it was only heart beats getting you ready for her. It's not a sun that you would burn for her, it's bloody whole galaxies. But I also know that a piece of you hears me. I've been here. I'll be here forever, chained, soul in ashes. So listen, Sandshoes, and pay attention. "
The Doctor, her Doctor, his future himself, opened finally his eyes and caught him by shoulders, with such force that he would have bruises afterwards. But right now he didn't feel it. Right now he was pinned by Bowtie's shining eyes. An ancient Time Lord's gaze, filled with such pain, such anger, that it was physically painful. A man's gaze - yes, one day - that would armies turn and run away.
"You'll start to think right now, a piece of your brain you're so absurdly proud of, a piece that will never sleep, will never stop looking for ways to bring her back. Even when you won't pay attention about it, even when you'll forget, even when you'll regenerate, never let this piece stop looking for that. Do you hear me ? NEVER !"
Bowtie's fingers were now like claws in the fabric of his pinstripe suit.
"Until she's here again, with us." Fury seemed for no reason further ignites the clear gaze of his future himself.
"You'll soon believe you have found the 'll think you're very clever. But it's a temporary solution, do you hear me? It's not enough ! It will never be enough ! So look for. For centuries. Because I just promised her. "
As an echo, intangible, inviolable, the pinstripe suit's Doctor nearly thought he heard in his mind.
See you around, Professor River Song
Until the next time, Doctor
Then words vanished and only remained Bowtie's steel gaze.
"She's always here to us, and she's the only ending we'll never be able to accept. So we have to bring her back, by the long way round if we have to."
They exchanged one last look, so long that Time itself didn't exist anymore, then Sandshoes just nodded, imperceptibly. Bowtie knew he would forget this promise. He knew he would be afraid of River, he would try to flee his own future. But he also knew that he would always come back to her, like a moth around a flame. In fact he had already begun to burn his wings and he'd do it again over and over, because her smile erased all pains, and one name was more important than all others in the universe. Not the oncoming storm, not the destroyer of the worlds, not the Valeyard, not the Doctor. Not even his real name. But Sweetie .
And he also knew, even if he had forgotten it, he would keep his promise. He knew it because, somewhere in the depths of his old mind, piece of him was looking for, time and time again, get her out of the library. How do it better than save her. How bring her back to him so they could run again, hand in hand, through time and space.
He'd not stop until she was returned to him. River Song. His wife. The Doctor's wife.
Then Bowtie got up and - without another glance at the chair where River had sacrificed her life for him - disappeared as silently as he had arrived. Sandshoes didn't even hear the humming of the TARDIS when it dematerialized, but that didn't matter.
He had seen what kind of man he was going to become. He had seen how much he was going to love her. If it was true, they would run. Time and space.
But he still needed a proof. Just a single little proof it was not a fantasy, born from his horror to see her dying in front of him. Powerless.
When he'd go back to his TARDIS, he'd snap his fingers. So, maybe ... He could run to her.