A/N: So, I recently got thoroughly hooked on Doctor Who, and after going through six seasons plus specials plus minisodes in six months, a Who fic was probably inevitable. And what else to write about but my OTP, 11/River? Especially after that Series 7 finale. So yeah, this is sort of a tribute to the tragic, yet wonderful love story of the Doctor and River Song, climaxing in their exchange in The Name of the Doctor.

Disclaimer: Please note that I do not own Doctor Who, BBC does. Hence, BBC also owns all the lines I borrowed from the show for the purpose of this story.

"So who was she? The lady with the funny name and the space hair?"

"An old…friend of mine."

"What, like an ex?"

"Yes, an ex."

Rule one: the Doctor lies. It's something he's proved multiple times before, which is why he was surprised Clara didn't press for more answers when she asked him about River. But Clara hadn't known him long – that she could remember, anyway – and how would she possibly have imagined who River really was to him?

He certainly hadn't.

"Who are you?"

"Professor River Song, University of –"

"To me. Who are you to me?"

"…Spoilers."

Oh, but if he had known…if he had known then who she was, what she would come to mean to him…if he had known it all when he first met her, he would not spend the rest of his ridiculously protracted lifespan regretting that he was not – could not be – there for her when it mattered most. She would not have died alone in the Library, saving the one who had only the slightest clue who she would be.

"One day, I'm going to be someone that you trust…completely. But I can't wait for you to find that out. So I'm going to prove it to you."

That was the problem with time travel. You could never be sure that things would happen in the right order – they usually didn't. It was thrilling, and exciting…and dangerous. Your younger self could totally ruin something enormously significant in your future self's life, simply because of ignorance. It could lead to dire consequences.

"River, you knew my name. You whispered my name in my ear. There's only one reason I would ever tell anyone my name. There's only one time I could."

River proved who she was with just a single word – a single word that should have been impossible for her to know. The Doctor knew then that one day, just as River said, he would trust and care for her enough to tell her his name. But knowing the future and living it are two completely different things. Although he had had an inkling then of how much he would trust River in time to come, he would never in all his regenerations have imagined the depth of his feelings for her.

"I bet I like you."

"Oh, you do."

First he'd mistrusted her, then he was utterly shocked by her, then he gradually grew to like her. He came to consider her an ally, then a friend, then a close friend. But always, always,he was wary of her.

"This was exactly you. All this. All of it. When you began all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name…Doctor. We get that word from you, you know. The word for healer, and wise man. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that name come to mean?"

It didn't matter that she knew his name, or that she claimed he had given her his sonic screwdriver – in fact, that was the exact problem. She knew too much about him – she seemed to know everything about him, even things he himself didn't know. How could he possibly not be wary of someone who knew more about him than he did? River Song, with her constant cryptic hints and ominous foreshadowing, was too well-informed for his comfort – she was an unknown, a potential threat, a risk.

It was no wonder his future self had given her rules.

"Sorry, you're not allowed to see inside the book. It's against the rules."

"What rules?"

"Your rules."

How ironic, that it was his rules that prevented him from reading her diary – his rules that stopped him from knowing who she was, his rules that made him unable to be the Doctor she needed him to be, at the very end. He didn't want her to die, yes – and yes, he'd saved her, in some fashion – but he hadn't been able to comfort her the way she needed him to.

"The last time I saw you – the real you, the future you, I mean – you turned up on my doorstep with a new haircut and a suit. You took me to Darilium to see the Singing Towers. What a night that was. The Towers sang. And you cried. You wouldn't tell me why. But I suppose you knew it was time. My time."

He didn't know it then, but he would forever wish he could have been the Doctor she knew and loved – and who knew and loved her – at her death, at that final moment when she saw him for the last time. But alas, it was not to be.

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly…stuff."

Their meetings coincided irregularly in their personal timelines, meaning they always met in the wrong order. Timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey. It was both the blessing and the curse of their relationship – a blessing because it meant that at any one point, at least one of them had enough information to get them out of whatever scrape they landed themselves in – a curse because they were never quite on the same level of their relationship. The worst curse of all, of course, was when one of them was so young that they didn't even know the other, or what they shared. It only happened twice in their entire time-defying relationship, but twice was far more than enough. And the times when they were both far along enough in their own timelines to be able to fully appreciate each other were few and far between.

"Who are you, River?"

"You're going to find out very soon now. And I'm sorry. But that's when everything changes."

She was right, as always. The revelation that she was Amy and Rory's daughter – brilliant Amelia Pond, the Girl Who Waited, and Rory the Roman, the Last Centurion – had brought the biggest of smiles to his face and assured him once and for all that his trust in her was genuine. Suddenly, everything about her made sense to him; it bridged the gap in the mystery of River Song between his younger self – the Doctor who knew her but didn't know her – and his future self – the Doctor who truly knew her.

"Who are you?"

"Ooh, look, your cot – haven't seen that in a very long while…"

"No, you tell me – tell me – who you are."

"I am telling you."

He let himself love her then. She had been knocking on the door to his heart for a while by then, but he hadn't allowed her in yet. Finding out her identity gave him the courage to find the key and unlock that door to let her in. River Song was Melody Pond, and once he knew that he allowed himself to love her.

"Honey, I'm home."

"And what sort of time do you call this?"

Finding Melody in the 1940s made him guiltier than ever about the circumstances of her death, because she was now the one who didn't know what they were to each other, while he knew almost everything. Their roles had been reversed, and he got a taste of what she must have felt when he didn't know her.

"Hello, sweetie."

"Only River Song gets to call me that."

"And who's River Song?"

"An old friend of mine."

"Stupid name."

She hadn't even known herself – that's how young she was. But he knew her, and he loved her. And though she tried to kill him, before long she proved that she loved him too.

"He said no one could save him. But he must have known I could."

"Rule one: the Doctor lies."

And Melody Pond was Melody Pond no longer. Her love for the Doctor, and the actions thereof, changed her. She became River Song then, his River.

"So, then. Tell me, why do you want to study archaeology?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, Professor, I'm looking for a good man."

His River, who would have destroyed the universe to save him had he not begged her not to. His River, whom he made his wife the very next time they met.

"There you go, River Song, Melody Pond. You're the woman who married me. And wife, I have a request. This world is dying and it's my fault. And I can't bear it another day. Please, help me. There isn't another way."

"Then you may kiss the bride."

"I'll make it a good one."

"You'd better."

When he lost Amy and Rory – when they left and lived their lives to the death in the 1930s – he begged her, his wife, to stay and travel with him. The Doctor and River Song, in the TARDIS, husband and wife, traveling companions. Next stop: everywhere.

"What matters is this, Doctor. Don't travel alone."

"Travel with me, then."

"Whenever and wherever you want. But not all the time. One psychopath per TARDIS, don't you think?"

Again, it wasn't to be. The very nature of their relationship meant they could never be together for long. Once again, this was both a blessing and a curse. Since their relationship progressed in a non-linear fashion, they could still meet even when one of them was dead – but their time was always too short. And there would, eventually, come the day when their days together across time and space were exhausted, and neither of them would meet each other anymore.

"The day's coming when I'll look into that man's eyes – my Doctor – and he won't have the faintest idea who I am. And I think it's going to kill me."

He hadn't seen her since Manhattan. Part of him didn't want to, because he feared that their next meeting would be his last with her. He was afraid that when their paths finally crossed again, it would be the day he was dreading. The day he took her to Darilium. The day the Towers would sing for them, and he would give her his screwdriver, knowing she would soon be going to her death in the Library. The day he would lose her forever.

"He's taking me to the Singing Towers of Darilium. He's been promising for ages!"

"The first time we met her, at the Library, when she…"

"Died, yes."

"She said the last time she saw us was at Darilium. Is that now?"

"Spoilers."

So when Clara told him she'd met River in the dream world conference call with Vastra and Jenny and Strax, it was like a blow to his hearts. He didn't have time to dwell on it because of the imminent threat of Trenzalore, and so he avoided any potential further questions on Clara's part by telling her River was an ex – and then they were off to Trenzalore.

"Clara…don't speak, don't say my name."

When he heard her voice, he could hardly believe it. River had come to meet him again. But then he turned around and his hearts squeezed painfully in his chest.

"He can't see or hear me; only you can."

This wasn't the River he was hoping to see. This was the River he had been actively trying to avoid for a good long while – since his last regeneration. This was the River he had saved into CAL's database, the River who had lived her life and sacrificed herself for his previous incarnation. This was the River who signified the end of their story together.

"Well, come on, then!"

So he lied again, pretended he couldn't see or hear her, let River and Clara believe that he was oblivious to his wife's presence, even though every cell in his body was acutely aware of it.

"Who are you talking to? We need to get…River."

Seeing her grave shouldn't have surprised him. They were at Trenzalore, and he'd known for a long time that she was going to die. A grave was the normal monument for a dead person.

But River Song wasn't normal. And her grave couldn't be her grave.

"Maybe it's a secret entrance to the tomb!"

"Yes, of course! Makes sense; they'd never bury my wife out here."

"Your what?!"

He waited, keeping the Whispermen at bay with his screwdriver, pretending he couldn't hear what River was asking Clara to repeat so he could arrive at the right conclusion about the presence of her grave.

"He doesn't like endings."

He thought he could get away with it; ignore River until she disappeared, so he wouldn't have to acknowledge her death. But then Clara dove into his timeline, fracturing herself into a million pieces scattered all over his life just so she could continue to save him over and over again. And he couldn't not try to save her in return, even if it meant entering his own timeline and creating the most massive paradox there ever was.

"Doctor, please listen to me. At least hear me."

Oh, River, he thought sadly, still resolutely refusing to look at her. I can hear you. I can hear every single word you're saying.

"There has to be another way. Use the TARDIS, use something – save her, yes, but for God's sake, be sensible!"

Her hand flung forwards to slap him, and he could ignore her no longer. He caught her hand and looked straight at her, his eyes brimming with pain. She stared at him, stunned.

"How are you even doing that? I'm not really here."

And finally, he confessed, "You're always here to me." Because she was; even when they were apart, she was on his mind, in his hearts. "And I always listen." How else could he know when she called for him to come? "And I can always see you." Her ghost haunted him everywhere he went.

She continued to gaze at him, distressed. "Then why didn't you speak to me?"

"Because I thought it would hurt too much."

She half-heartedly tried to lighten the tension, to infuse some of their banter back into the conversation. "I believe I could have coped."

"No," he refuted. He stepped closer to her. "I thought it would hurt me." Just looking at the ghost she had become knifed through his core. "And I was right."

Her gaze penetrated into his as his eyes finally fixed firmly on hers. He had never, not once, told her he loved her, but she had never doubted it – and in that short moment, she realized fully, without his needing to say it, just how deeply he loved her.

He hesitated only a second longer before closing the distance between them, cupping her face with both hands and kissing her with all the strength of his mixed emotions. In that kiss, he conveyed all the love, pain, joy, sadness, anger, and tenderness that he felt towards her. In that one, brief instant, they were finally on equal footing in their complex relationship; she having lived her entire life, he awaiting only Darilium. They had never kissed like this before, and they never would again.

He felt the need to be a little light before he had to do what he had been dreading, so he threw out, "Since nobody else in this room can see you, God knows how that looked." His glance wandered to Vastra, Jenny, and Strax, all three looking perplexed. Serious once more, he turned back to the woman before him.

He could not put this off anymore.

"There is a time to live, and a time to sleep," he told her. "You are an echo, River." The hardest admission to ever cross his lips. "Like Clara, like all of this. In the end, my fault, I know." His hands traveled from her face to her shoulders, gently stroking them. "But you should have faded by now."

She smiled understandingly back at him. "It's hard to leave when you haven't said goodbye."

"Then tell me, because I don't know." He grasped her hand in both of his and held it tightly against his chest. "How do I say it?" How could he say goodbye to her, the one woman who understood him, whom he loved more than anyone else in the universe?

She knew, too, that the time had come. The end to their ending, the close of their chapter. Even though they would be meeting each other again, somewhere in time and space, this was their final farewell.

"There's only one way I'd accept." She searched his face, committing every line, every feature, to memory. She'd seen all his faces, but this was her favorite – it was the one she had fallen in love with, the one who had fallen in love with her. This was her Doctor. "If you ever loved me, say it like you're going to come back."

The Doctor slowly absorbed her words, gazing intently at her face, drinking in every detail. She was beautiful, and sad, and strong. She was his woman, his love, his wife. His River Song.

"Well, then." He offered her one last, small smile as he backed away. "See you around, Professor River Song." He knew he would – he had yet to tell her his name, yet to take her to Darilium. But she would not see him again.

And still, she smiled, that wonderful woman, his lovely, clever, amazing River. Her spirit strong till the last. "Till the next time…Doctor."

His own smile widened. The banter was back – it was how they began, and it would be how they ended. "Don't wait up."

But River always had the last say, somehow – always one more mystery, one last promise of something more.

"Oh, there's one more thing."

He chuckled, just the tiniest bit, because it was so River. "Isn't there always?"

"I was mentally linked with Clara. If she's really dead, then how am I still here?"

She'd caught him there. He'd known, from eavesdropping on her conversations with Clara, that the two were mentally linked – but he hadn't stopped to think about what that meant about River's continued presence.

"Okay, how?" Even before he asked, he already knew what her answer would be.

"Spoilers." She smiled one last time. "Goodbye, sweetie," she said softly, before fading away.

"Hello, sweetie."

How many times had he heard her greet him that way, in that playful, seductive manner? Every time they had met, she had said that to him.

"Goodbye, sweetie."

In contrast, the quiet, understated way she'd bid him goodbye was the heart-wrenching opposite bookend to her characteristic catchphrase. No more next times, no more "You'll see me again"s, no more tantalizing hints about what was to come for them next.

"Goodbye, sweetie."

Just a simple, gentle farewell to her husband. The way he dearly wished it wouldn't have been.

"Are you married, River?"

"Are you asking?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"No, hang on – did you think I was asking you to marry me or…or asking if you were married?"

"Yes."

"No, but was that yes or yes?"

"Yes."

Rule one: the Doctor lies. River Song was not an ex. River Song was his wife, now and forever.

A/N: There you go, then. First Doctor Who fic down. Dialogue excerpts were taken from Series 3's Blink, Series 4's Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, Series 5's The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang, Series 6's The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon, A Good Man Goes to War, Let's Kill Hitler, and The Wedding of River Song, Series 7's The Angels Take Manhattan and The Name of the Doctor, and the special Night of the Doctor minisode Last Night.