Spoilers, She Said

Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman. The man was out of his time; a mad, brilliant, wonderful man with the weight of the Universe set on his shoulders. He traveled in his time machine that was unlike anything ever seen before; temper-tantruming, bigger-on-the-inside, and the bluest blue imaginable. The madman and his time box traveled the Universe together, but they were lonely for they were the last of their kind. All the rest were gone. All alone in the Universe, the madman slowly hardened and became bitter, for each friend that he made eventually left him.

But then the woman came. She was something different, something the man of time had never seen before. She was clever, she was mysterious, and she knew everything about him. The woman with the secrets, the woman with the red lips and wild hair and one quirked eyebrow ready to say 'Hello sweetie.' She was maddening, infuriating, wonderful and brilliant all wrapped in one person. She was the madman's favorite game.

But they were star-crossed lovers; a Romeo in bow tie with his time machine and his Juliette with fire and wit and charm. His future was her past and her past his future. Back to front, they met time and time again. But each time one knew more of the other while the other knew them less. Somewhere in between, when their paths met in the middle, they fell in love. Together the star-crossed saved the world time and time again, until their paths began to part in the worst way. While he lived on to see her again, she fell into his past. Each time he knew her less and less until finally there came a day where he wore a different face and he did not know her. Perhaps that was what killed the Juliette with the wild hair and the unmatchable wit. In a library, a fitting place for their tale, our Juliette died so he could live on to fall in love with her all over again.

It had been a while since he had been to the Library. He wore a different face and spoke with a different voice now, but it felt as though he were just here. Here with his River Song.

The Vashta Nerada lurked in the shadows, but they did not bother him. He had not come to destroy them or rid them of the library. He had come to mourn. And who were the Vashta Nerada to deny him that one small thing.

The Doctor sat on the great marble steps, watching the doctor moon above the planet. Millions of books were scattered below the balcony, stretching as far as the eye could see. Heavy, leather bound books in black and browns. But there was one book in particular the Doctor had clutched in his hands. This book was much smaller than the others, with loose pages and a worn binding and the bluest blue cover. The Doctor held the book in his hands, never opening it. He only smoothed his fingertips over it with a sad look in his eyes. He smiled a little to himself, almost able to hear her voice whispering "hello sweetie."

"Hello Sweetie."

The Doctor lifted his head. That was most definitely her voice, there was no doubting it. The Doctor quickly turned around, his hearts beating furiously because he could hear her voice.

When the Doctor turned, he came face to face with her. Her red lips smiling, her eyes glistening as curiously as ever. But it was only her face. Her face planted on the mechanical white face of one of the book keepers. The Doctor's hearts sank into his stomach and he reached forward, wanting to touch her face but never quite letting his fingers touch her.

"Hello Sweetie," the face spoke again, "Can I help you find something?"

The Doctor swallowed, clutching River's journal in his hands tightly. "You chose a face you thought I'd like," he smiled briefly, bitterly, "you chose the one that hurts me most of all."

"Can I help you find something, Sweetie?"

"No," the Doctor muttered sourly before his face softened. He looked back up at River's face, watching her eyes. She had called him sweetie. That wasn't something the Library was supposed to know.

"Why do you call me that, why are you calling me sweetie?" he asked the book keeper, wiping a corner of his eye. The corner of River's lips pulled into a smirk.

"Spoilers," her voice said simply. And the Doctor understood. She was in there, somewhere in the database. And she could hear him. The Doctor smiled, holding the book tightly in his hands.

"Spoilers," the Doctor smiled as he shook his head. The Doctor was crying, but it was not from sadness anymore. It was happiness. River, his River, could hear him. So he could tell her one last story.

"Actually, River, there is something you can do for me. Sit tight, let me read to you the greatest adventure there ever was."

And so, the Doctor opened River's journal.
And began to read.