I tried writing a short River x Eleven drabble that ended with slight angst and 1,768 words. I'm a dork that way. But you know- enjoy!

It was a quiet night aboard the Tardis, around two o'clock in the morning; Amy and Rory were long asleep, and the only sound in the enormous ship was the gentle lull of the machinery and the Doctor kicking his shoe heels against the smooth floor as he swung from a thick rubber pipe.

Thud, thud, thud. The Doctor's shoes hit the floor each time the swinging pipe glided down again. Early morning were the hardest times; they were so quiet, and he was almost always wide awake by then. Amy had already confronted him on the matter of his occasional nighttime outings, and he'd admitted they were rather frequent. But now, for some odd reason, the Doctor didn't feel like leaving the Tardis and her calming gurgling and the thought of his best friends asleep somewhere among her endless corridors. So he stayed on his own beneath the console unit, swinging, despite the overwhelming sense of loneliness and sadness it gave him.

Then there was a loud buzz and a thump from up the console stairs. The Doctor recognize the sound of two feet hitting the floor; he raised his head, hopeful, as footsteps made their way towards said stairs and headed down.

And there, two steps before the bottom, stood his curly-haired, blonde-headed, cocky-smiling, gun-wielding menace: his own wife, River Song.

"Hello, sweetie." River smirked, standing with legs slightly spread apart and hand resting loosely on the weapon that was slung at her waist. She seemed just a carefree as she had every other time the Doctor had seen her, and he was too down-in-the-dumps to look closer and see there was something clearly troubling River.

"Hi honey, I'm home." He replied half-heartedly, pushing up from the Tardis floor with his feet while staying balanced on his pipe.

River crossed her arms, sticking out her hip. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's something bothering you, I can tell."

"Nothing's bothering me, River."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sweetie, I know you better than you know yourself. I can tell when something's wrong with you."

"It's not that anything's wrong!" the Doctor exclaimed, simultaneously annoyed and endeared. "I'm just… bored. And a little lonely without- your parents."

Grinning, River crossed the space between herself and the Doctor in three long strides and grabbed his arm, yanking him off the makeshift swing.

"Come on. Take me to see something amazing."

The Doctor blinked, then smiled slightly at his beaming wife and followed her obediently upstairs to the console unit.

The main area of the Tardis was dimly-lit and quiet when River and the Doctor climbed up the steps, but as soon as their hands touched the controls it was as if they'd turned on the lights. The whole place flickered brightly, and the lack of windows made it seem like midday.

"What do you want to see, exactly?" the Doctor asked River, reaching across the console to twist a strange knob.

River shrugged, ignoring her temptation to correct his flying techniques. "Anywhere wonderful."

Stopping to think for a moment, the Doctor nodded and started flipping and pressing seemingly random switches and buttons. The Tardis shook and let out his favorite noise; a "whooooosh"-ing sound that frequented both his good dreams and his nightmares. The Tardis was in his soul and mind whether he liked it or not (but he usually liked it. So did River).

With a jolt and a quiver, the machine came to a halt. The Doctor nodded at River and she skidded across the Tardis floor, throwing open the door and peering out.

They were hovering in space, surrounded by billions of stars and visible galaxies. The heavens seemed to be tinged with purple and blue stardust, nebulas and swirling star systems stretching out as far as the eye could see. Clinging onto the door, River stepped out of the Tardis and let herself drift upwards from the total lack of gravity. She swallowed back unexplainable tears and pulled herself back into the ship, leaving the door open behind her.

The Doctor was watching her, beaming as though he'd just saved a thousand planets. River felt that it was these moments when it almost seemed like he loved her as much as she loved him.

"It's stunning." She breathed, trying to gather herself. She was not an easily shaken person. There were boundaries that could only be lowered once before she'd be shattered.

But the Doctor was River's husband. She loved him more than life itself. If she couldn't lower boundaries around him, she couldn't lower them around anyone else.

Taking a shaking breath, River gestured for the Doctor to join her by the doorway. He obliged with a knowing smile, as if he sensed her thoughts. She knew he didn't really; if he did, he wouldn't be smiling that way.

The two leaned against each side of the doorframe and gazed out at the spectacular view, each galaxy and nebula like a shimmering form twirling and spinning for them.

"It's like Vincent's painting." The Doctor murmured, the stars reflected in his shining eyes.

His hand reached out and met River's, clasping it and holding tight.

She squeezed back, not taking her eyes off the beauty outside the Tardis, not wanting to ruin this amazing and magical moment.

It was what seemed like an eternity later when River took a deep breath and pulled her hand away from the Doctor's, reaching out to close the doors and backing up a few steps.

The Doctor gave her a puzzled look; one of his most innocent and endearing faces. River seethed with misery, thinking about the news she was about to drop on him.

"Doctor," she started, keeping her tone forcibly calm. "Did you ever- ever think about having children?"

He blinked, then raised his eyes to the ceiling and smiled. "Not really. But… well… I'd- I'd rather like to have kids again. You know. Like… like once. Why? Would you… like to have them?"

River didn't answer, but the Doctor didn't take that as a bad sign.

"Amy and Rory might like that." He grinned. "Actually, no they wouldn't! Yowzah, Amy would throw a fit being a grandmother this young."

Gulping, River clenched her fists and tried to steel herself against her next sentence.

"Doctor, I-I was just- I think-It's just that- I can't have babies."

There was an awful silence in the Tardis; even the machinery seemed to stop thrumming as though out of horror. River trembled, trying to stay unemotional, but a single tear managed to leak out the corner of her eye and roll down her right cheek. More tears followed until River wasn't crying exactly, but her eyes certainly weren't dry. She cursed herself. The shell had been cracked.

The Doctor stared at her in shock, mouth opening and shutting like a fish.

"I-I went to a fertility clinic down on Earth because…. Well, I was- I was suspecting there might be something wrong." River spoke quickly, trying not to let her voice give away any more of her emotion. No such luck; it wobbled and broke into high notes at random words. She sounded like an eight-year-old. "And…I was right. I-I'm infertile. I'm sorry."

Her last sentence hung in the air between them like a cloud of fog. River used the seconds of silence to swipe at her cheeks, trying to dry her still-damp tears.

"What you're saying is-" the Doctor finally spoke. "You can… never have children?"

"No."

"But- but-" he stammered, then stopped and stared her right in the face. "Wait, River- you said- you said you suspected this. Why would you-?"

Ah, yes. The question she thought he'd ask. The Doctor, ever noticing the details. She didn't want to tell him the truth; he really would never forgive himself. This whole deal was- in a way –very party his fault.

River bit her lip and closed her eyes, tilting her head backwards a little as if letting water or sunlight cascade over her face. She breathed deeply, then faced the Doctor with sorrowful eyes and a small frown. "Madame Kovarian… at Demon's Run, and after she took Melody- me- she… there were a few experiments. To make me into what I am today." She extended her arms, gesturing at herself. "And I was worried that among all those, maybe they'd also… done something."

And now the Doctor's face was no longer filled with concern; he looked absolutely furious, eyes sparking with pure rage.

"Did they do anything else?" he demanded, voice low and dangerous. "River, DID THEY HURT YOU IN ANY WAY ELSE?'

River started, then got a grip on herself and shook her head.

The Doctor clenched his fists and then sighed, breathing out so deeply it seemed he might pop. Then he reached out and grabbed River's hand, pulling her towards him and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. River gasped slightly, taken by surprise, then let out a shaky breath and let herself cry. She didn't do it often and not now either; only a few tears that insisted on drizzling out of her closed eyes.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, I got your hopes up- I thought- if we could have children, the time-lords wouldn't be-"

"River." The Doctor said, so quietly she could barely hear him. "River, you don't owe me anything."

She shook her head. "I'm still sorry. If only I-"

"It's my fault, not yours. I should have saved you as a baby, River, then you would have been happy."

"But then I would never be River Song." She replied, a smile already creeping back onto her face. "And where would you be?"

"Dead." The Doctor guessed. And he knew she was right; this awful moment had to happen, otherwise they'd never have been together. He'd truly be dead dozens of times if Melody had not become River.

"But how do I break it to Amy and Rory- to my parents?" River questioned in a wobbly voice. "They- never got to raise a child. How can I tell them they'll never get to have grandchildren, either?"

The Doctor remained quiet for a few moments, then asked: "River… would you rather if- if I told them?"

"Told us what?"

The Doctor and River turned their heads so quickly they almost decapitated themselves. Amy was standing at the top of the stairwell to the corridor, looking about ten years old in her white nightie.

"What is it?" she prompted, then yawned. "Oh, hi River."

River forced a smile, still clutching the Doctor's hand.

"Hey, mother." She said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."