A/N: The other day I was just sitting and thinking, as you do, when this - thing - ran into my head and demanded to be written. I was powerless to disobey. I don't particularly know what this thing actually is, as it didn't bother to give me a plot or even a context. Respect the thing. So I thought I'd ask readers to suggest a situation or plot to put this thing into. If you have an idea, please tell me in a review. I'll pick the best suggestion and attempt to write it. Thanks and enjoy!
Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, the thing would be in an episode, not lurking in a corner of fanfiction
Words
"River…?" he said softly, half questioning. He grasped her by the shoulders and looked searchingly into her eyes. "River, are you all right? What happened?"
River stared at him, her traumatised brain going into overdrive, as she tried to comprehend the impossible fact that he was standing in front of her, his face the tiny seed of hope she'd been clinging to in the midst of insanity like a drowning woman.
She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Frustrated, she tried again. She had to remember this, the speaking. For a reason she had forgotten, it was important. Desperately she searched her memory until she found a tiny cluster of these words which were so valuable. She had preserved these ones, practiced them, cherished them above all else.
She selected the most precious one and, bringing the memory to the forefront of her mind, opened her mouth to speak.
No! cried a little voice in the back of her head. That word must be kept safe. That word must not be spoken. She selected another.
As she brought forward the memory, something told her that this was the right one; this was what should be spoken to him. She opened her mouth once more.
The Doctor watched, his fury at her tormentors increasing exponentially, as River struggled to speak. What have they done to her?
Mentally he fought for control over his rage and pinned it down in the back of his mind. He couldn't let it show, not while she was so vulnerable. Staring into her eyes, the Doctor willed her to say something, anything, to assure him she knew who he was, to assure him she knew who she was. He watched, intently, as she opened her mouth for the third time.
Her voice sounded rusty and unused. She spoke carefully, hesitantly, as if her mouth had forgotten what it was supposed to be doing.
"…Hello, sweetie" she managed, before collapsing into his arms.