Hullo, OctoberWolf here. This is my first story published (second, if you count the other one, which I don't). This is just going to be a series of drabbles and one-shots with no real purpose. No specific pairings in mind, nothing much other than pieces exploring the various characters of Moffat era Who and their shortcomings and strengths. I'm going to attempt to publish one thing a day - hopefully I won't get lazy!

If you want to see a specific pairing/situation, let me know and I'll see what I can do!

This little story is set near the end of the Doctor and River's relationship, hopefully far in the future from what we've seen on the show. The Doctor is older, wiser, and a bit more bitter.

Pairings: Doctor/River

Reviews are greatly appreciated. You don't have to be nice - if it's crap, say so.

- October

The two suns were poised to set on the horizon, illuminating the futuristic city with a pleasant orange light. A couple sat on a hill, taking in the brilliant sight before them and enjoying the tantalizing feel of their barely-overlapping fingertips. The woman's curly hair was lit around the edges, while the man's flopped haphazardly over his right eye.

The two beings looked for all the world like an ordinary pair of young humans enjoying their night out together. But their hearts beat double, and they were not young at all.

"It's beautiful," the woman whispered. "I'm glad you showed me this."

"It's nothing," the man said, his voice surprisingly bitter. "Gallifrey was nothing like this. It was so much more…alive."

The woman looked at her lover's face, only to find his deep-set eyes to be bathed in shadow. "Sweetie, I think it's lovely."

"You weren't there," the man who was not quite human continued, ignoring the woman's protests. "You didn't see it. The cities, the brilliant fields…it was like someone caught this, bottled it, and made it a thousand times brighter. No, never mind, not a thousand, a thousand's rubbish. A million times brighter."

The man who was also a doctor - who was also the Doctor - had a faraway look in his eyes. An orange fire burned bright behind his green irises, and he seemed for all the world to be lost in a memory, caught up in sights and sounds and smells that were lost to time itself.

"The light was exactly like this, all the time. Everything was in sync, everything worked. It was…" the Doctor searched for a word, a word big enough to encompass everything that his home planet had been and more. "It was there. Always."

The woman, River Song, whose name spoke more of her personality than even she knew, leaned in and kissed the Doctor's forehead gently. "It's gone now, sweetie, and I'm sorry. But you did the right thing. The Time Lords -"

"Were exactly like me," the Doctor finished, pulling away. "The only difference is, I haven't got someone to stop me once I've gone too far."

"You've got me," River said quietly. The silence between them grew like the shadows that were overtaking the Doctor's face as the suns sank lower and became obscured by the edge of the planet.

Eventually, the Doctor spoke again, hollowly and without emotion. "River, did I ever tell you why the Time Lords only had twelve regenerations?"

"No," River answered, knowing that the Doctor wanted to explain something to her. "Why was it, exactly?"

The Doctor smiled thinly, and leaned in close to River's ear, her hair brushing his lips. "Let me tell you a secret - they didn't."

River drew back and looked at the Doctor, confused. "What do you mean 'they didn't'? Of course they did, dear, you told me yourself!"

"The Doctor lies," the Doctor said bitterly. "Time Lords had an unlimited number of regenerations - well, physically, at least. Mentally…mentally, it was too much to handle. Most Time Lords spent five hundred to a thousand years in one body; regeneration didn't happen often, and when it did, it was like rewriting your whole life."

River nodded; she understood. If this was all the Doctor needed to tell her, then perhaps they should be going - it was getting dark and cold. And so was the Doctor.

"I'm not finished," he growled, sensing River's discomfort. "You see, twelve was about the number a Time Lord could handle. Rewriting your life twelve times…it was terrible. And so after the twelfth one, most chose to end it." He turned to River, the fire in his eyes gone. It was replaced with an age-old fatigue; it was the look of a man who had been running and was about to start again. "They killed themselves, River. When you've been a new man twelve times, what is there left to live for?"

The Doctor stood then, and began to walk towards the TARDIS, not bothering to lift his head and regard the stars that were beginning to adorn the sky. River wanted to say something, to call out and remind him that he was not alone. But she did not.

Instead, she watched him be swallowed by the shadows that surrounded them both.