The Doctor lay on his left side, sprawled upon the expanded metal catwalk that surrounded the brightly illuminated console of his oft times trusty Type-40. He had a rather nasty gash above his right eye. The blood was just now drying where it had run down the side of his face. The little bit that made it into his hair line, contrasted sharply with the short, soft gray hair there.
His black coat and trousers had seen better days. They were dirty, and jagged threads protruded from several slices where the material of his coat caught on something sharp, splitting it wide open to reveal the bright red satin liner inside.
The abused Time Lord groaned deeply within his chest. He slowly rolled over onto his back and looked up at the console. He immediately regretted the motion. His long fingers went to his throbbing head, finding the bloody wound in the process. The Doctor opened his eyes just a bit to look at the crimson gore smeared on his fingertips. It took a moment for his usually intense greenish eyes to adjust to the brightness around him. The Doctor's vision was blurry. He imagined that it was likely from the blow to his thick skull.
"Well now, somebody obviously didn't like you having a closer look around, did they?"
The Doctor's hearts skipped at the sound of the low, sultry female voice that penetrated the quiet. He fought back the pain in his head to try to look around. His ears caught the sharp, 'click' 'click' 'click' of high heels striking the metal ramp just inside the TARDIS doors. The Doctor's restricted optics managed to spy two sparkling silver high heeled shoes making their way toward him. He followed the shiny material up to the ruffled hem of a black cocktail dress. A flash of creamy skin revealed the slit in the angled line of the skirt that went up to the mid thigh of its bearer. An amble bosom pressed against the sweetheart neckline of the strapless gown. When the ancient man of time's eyes came up to view her hair, his hearts nearly stopped.
"River," he breathed, rolling the 'R's' delightfully.
"Hello sweetie," River greeted him as usual. "Yes, I'm really here, my love." River leaned down and offered her hand. The Doctor waved off the help and gathered his feet under himself. He pushed himself up to stand and staggered a little. River grabbed onto him, putting her hands on both of his arms, until he had his balance again.
As casually as he could, the Doctor stepped back from her hands and leaned against the console for support. River immediately understood that this regeneration did not feel nearly as comfortable with a hands on approach as his previous incarnation had. She came to stand next to him instead, giving the Time Lord just enough of the space he required.
"How," he asked. His fierce eyebrows were frowning low over his eyes in pain.
River shrugged, a bit too casually. "Oh, you know me, dear. I'm not one to stay in a cage for very long." She removed a roll of lipstick from somewhere on her person, and re-applied the color to the already vibrant shade of red gracing her beautiful, full lips. "Not even one resembling a bookshelf," she added. The Doctor's only reaction to her latter comment, was to grip the edge of the console so hard with his right hand, that his knuckles turned a harsh white.
"I don't understand," the Doctor said. He was having a hard time thinking. His head hurt so damn bad!
"Shocker," River joked without much humor in her voice.
"River," the Doctor warned, his voice a low growl.
"Someone wanted me out of the Library, more than you did, sweetie. It's really that simple."
"That," the Doctor whispered with his eyes shut, "is not possible."
The Doctor rubbed his temple just below the bloody gash. The motion drew attention to the wound and made River soften a bit. She moved around the console to a hatch marked with a large red cross. River opened the lid to reveal a fully stocked first aid kit built right into the console.
"Where the devil did that come from," he asked. His vision was finally returning to normal. The banging away in his head had not, however. It was making it very difficult for him to form complete thoughts, let alone full sentences.
"You were unconscious for awhile. I got bored. I thought it would help," River explained while she prepared the necessary supplies to clean and bandage the wound marring the Doctor's already roughhewn features. The Doctor flinched hard when she tried to touch the sterile wipe to the dried blood on his face. She wasn't sure if it was because of the pain, or because he didn't want her to touch him. Either way, River was annoyed.
"Stand still, you stubborn idiot," she grouched, "I'm trying to help you."
Instead of standing still as instructed, the Doctor suddenly grabbed River's wrist. He scowled deeply at her, moving in close so that there were only a few inches between their faces.
"How, exactly, did you get out," he demanded quietly. His underlying Scottish growl seemed to deepen as he grew angry. "Who did it?" He was not really asking. The Doctor expected an answer. River knew that, which was exactly why she didn't give him one right away.
"Speaking of books," she said, suddenly changing the subject. River spun away from the Doctor, her skirt fluttering as air caught beneath it. She touching the console controls reverently here and there as she went, "I wanted to thank you for leaving my journal, and my sonic behind."
The Doctor turned to glare at her across the controls.
"Those were shielded."
River nodded. "Yes, I know. Hidden in plain sight. Brilliant," she exclaimed.
"Compromising the shield would have set off alarms in the TARDIS," he said. "I would have known. I... I would have gone back."
River smiled a genuine smile. "You rarely stop moving, Doctor. You could have easily been running for your life, and missed them."
He realized that she was giving him an out, and that he had better take it if he ever wanted to get back around to the question she was avoiding. The Doctor nodded and closed his eyes. He lifted his hand to rub at his temple again. This time, the gesture was one of frustration, instead of self soothing. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.
"You're right," he said, giving her a small, tired smile, "I was probably out saving the children of Earth, again. They seem to require it so often."
"Yes, they do."
"Are we going to continue to banter, here, all the while," the Doctor asked, "or are you going to answer my question?"
River casually made her way back around the console to stand near the Doctor. She longed to take his hand, or perhaps feel the graying curls of his hair between her fingers, if only for a moment. Being so close to him, and yet so far away was agonizing. As much as she longed to, River did not close the gap between them.
The Doctor could tell that River was restraining herself. He knew she wanted to reach out to him. If he was going to welcome the touch of anyone, besides holding hands with Clara, it would be from River Song. He wasn't ready. Not yet. The Doctor still wasn't completely convinced that any of it was real. He needed more answers.
"The Vaticoracle are quite skilled with trace DNA," she said simply.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow.
"Since when," he asked skeptically.
River shrugged her bare shoulders. "A few centuries. So I'm to understand."
"The Vaticoracle are a religious order."
"Apparently," River answered, "a few hundred years ago, they found science as well."
"Science and religion," he said, "seems a bit contradictory."
"Not to them," River pointed out, "and I, for one, am grateful."
"Despite what you may believe, River," he explained, "I too am grateful. What I want to know, however, is did those religious scientist also find violence? The Vaticoracle that I know of, are not nearly as heavy handed as the ones that I met early."
River smiled. "You can be rather rough in your verbal encounters, my love," she said.
The Doctor surprised her by quickly closing the space between them and taking her face in his hands. His flesh was warm on hers. Her hearts raced and her skin flushed with the intimate touch. She had to remember to breath. River looked into his intense eyes and tried so very hard to keep tears from filling her own.
"Who guided them to you, River," he asked in a deep, hushed tone. "I know they don't just go wanderin' about the galaxy, looking for trace DNA. Who instructed the Vaticoracle to resurrect you?"
When River closed her eyes, a tear did slip free. It made a line down her face that ended when it met with the flesh of the Doctor's long thumb.
"My Mistress," River whispered.