Copyright infringement not intended.
Warnings: Strong language, sexuality, Eleven/Amy-obsession, spoilers of all of series six. (yes, that includes AGMGTW)
A/N: Holy crapola. HOLY PROMAL (word invented by me, copyright by Yr Alban 2011. Promal = half proper/half grammar. Donno where the l comes from.) That... Episode. The hugs. The love. Loved it. Enjoy this fic, loveliess!
I Need A Doctor
River -- A Broken Boy and His Broken Joy
not one resemblance to the man I met;
just a vacant broken boy instead.
It happens slowly, so slowly that she can't say she didn't see it coming.
One day he's himself, as crazy as ever. He's grinning like a mad man and dashing around, occasionally giving her kisses that make her feel like she's the most important woman ever. His eyes are shining and he just looks like him - mad, impossible, and all her's.
"You're insane," she swears as he talks to himself, words flying out of his mouth at a mile a second. He looks over at her and grins wider, a telltale look in his bright eyes.
"You love it, you know you do," he says, winking cheekily.
God damn it, she hates it when he's right.
...
A week later they're on a war-torn planet, talking to the monarchy and citizens. He's serious and seems older - not physically, he doesn't look a day older than the last time she saw him. It's his eyes, there is more pain in his eyes than last time; more humility and more anger, hot rage that she has felt numerous times.
She is standing at his side, her hands clasped behind her back and toying with the grip of her gun. He is shouting at the arrogant king, calling him every name under the planet's dual suns. She'd like to say it isn't frightening or intimidating, but she doesn't want to lie.
She's not naive and she's knows the Doctor well. She's seen him furious and over-joyed. This should be nothing new - except it is, except she's never seen him this angry.
The Queen, who is too pale and thin, is watching her with wise, old eyes. It's unnerving - the Queen is half her age, she shouldn't be able to look at River like she's a little girl. But, she is.
Her eyes drift from River and dance across the Doctor's angry face before returning to River's analyzing blue eyes. "So young," the Queen murmurs, only loud enough for River to hear. "To be hurt so much."
"What? I'm older than you," she tells the younger woman nastily, cruelly. She doesn't regret her tone. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh," she says softly, her eyes going wide with surprise and a small amount of pity. "You don't know yet, do you? Poor girl. I'll keep you in my prayers."
She doesn't understand.
Later, when she's in the TARDIS and the Doctor is still fuming, he's still giving her dark looks that she doesn't deserve and aren't meant for her, she still doesn't understand.
She doesn't think she ever will.
...
One week - nothing.
Two weeks - nothing.
Three weeks - nothing.
Four weeks - nothing.
Five weeks - nothing.
Six weeks - nothing.
Two and a half months of silence, of sitting and waiting in Stormcage for her Doctor. She's beginning to think he won't come, that he's forgotten all about her and all about them. So young to be hurt so much.
She is beginning to understand the Queen's words.
Seven weeks - nothing.
Eight weeks - nothing.
Nine weeks - nothing.
Ten weeks - nothing.
Eleven weeks - nothing.
Twelve weeks - nothing.
Three months of tears, of staring at the cracked ceiling and knowing he's out there but doesn't want to come. He doesn't want her. All alone in Stormcage, poor little River Song.
Oh. You don't know yet, do you?
She does now.
Thirteen weeks, three months and one week after the incident with the Kings and Queens, he shows up. And he's different.
Poor girl.
He's so different, she can barely recognize him. (or maybe she's the one that's different, maybe he's looking at her and he can barely recognize her.)
His hair is shorter and his eyes are deeper, there's more pain and anger and hatred and loneliness, so much more that she feels like she's going to cry. "River," he says, his voice breaking and shattering around her name. It's cold and empty to her, though, and she can tell that this is the Doctor - not her's, anymore.
Some other girl's, some woman who can fix him and make him better. He's her's.
"Hello, sweetie," she greets with false cheer and a false grin, that's just a sham of what it once was. Sorta like them.
I'll keep you in my prayers.
I best tidy up my head;
I'm the only one in love.
Er.. Yeah, alright. Liked it. How 'bout you?
Review and tell me what you think. (:
xoxo
Yr Alban