She hadn't thought it would hurt so much.
River Song had known this day was coming. Ever since the Doctor had explained it to her, how their timelines were backwards and they'd always meet in the wrong order, she'd known that one day, she'd meet the Doctor - her Doctor - and he'd have no idea who she was.
She was strong. She'd gotten that from both her parents; The Girl Who Waited and The Last Centurion. She was proud to call herself their daughter.
But every person has a breaking point. And she knew hers would be loving a complete and total stranger.
She tried never to betray her fears. To anyone. Especially the Doctor.
That man would spend the rest of his life trying to prevent the ending. He wouldn't be able to bear it.
She'd only revealed her worst nightmare twice: to both of her parents.
The first time had been right after she'd seen the Doctor die. And then he'd come back. She was rattled to say the least. She'd mourned him and yet there he was, prancing about the TARDIS.
And so she confided in one of the only people she could: her mother. Amy had been in shock herself. She was scared. Scared of the Doctor's death and that's when River realized what she truly feared.
It slipped out before she even really knew what she was saying. As she spoke, her heart filled with dread.
"The Doctor's death doesn't frighten me, nor does my own. There's a far worse day coming for me."
Amy had had no idea what she was talking about and River had quickly recovered from her slip-up, vowing never to speak of it again.
But her father had been listening too, and he asked her about it later. And when they were alone, Rory asked what she meant. He wanted to know and she needed to tell someone...so she told him.
She told him how she and the Doctor had first met, how he'd dropped out of the sky, knowing every last thing about her, explaining the effect that it had had on her. Her voice was full of awe and delight as she described the strange, wonderful man that she had come to love.
Her voice darkened when she began to explain her situation with the Doctor. It didn't make complete sense to her then. It would probably never make complete sense, not ever. And she began to realize the true curse of traveling through all of space and time.
"Every time we meet, I know him more, he knows me less. I live for the days when I see him, but I know that every time that I do he'll be one step further away." She sighed and revealed the worst part, the part that kept her awake at night. The part that broke her heart. "The day is 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."
She never spoke of it again. Not to anyone. And then she arrived at the Library and saw him.
His eyes were younger. In the beginning, while she was still getting to know the Doctor, his eyes had been so full of pain, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. And in a way, that had been true.
He had seen the most amazing things, traveled to distant galaxies and seen the wonders that the universe had to offer. But he had also lost so many people. He had been forced to destroy his own species and had done things that no creature in the universe should have to endure. And so there was a constant struggle between hope and utter despair.
As she got to knew him better, the pain in his eyes lessened and it became one of things that told her how old he was.
In the Library, when she first saw him, she'd asked him, she'd begged him to say that he knew who she was. But she'd already known the answer. She'd known as soon as she'd looked into his eyes.
She wanted so badly for him to deny it and tell her that of course he knew who she was. And all it had taken were three small words to break her.
"Who are you?"
She'd been lucky that the alarm had gone off at that precise moment. He rushed away and she stood there, her heart broken. She felt like she was dying.
It was funny, though. She'd told Rory that this moment was going to kill her and here she was, wired up to a machine that would take her life, to save him.
It was worth it though. Dying, everything, all of the pain…all for him. He was worth anything the universe had to throw at her. Even just a minute of happiness with him outweighed hours of suffering alone. Because he was completely and madly wonderful.
I just finished watching Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead. I've been watching Doctor Who out of order (11th Doctor first, then 9th and 10th Doctor). I know, I know, not good. But I think it just made these episodes even better for me. It made it even more poignant and painful. I thought they were absolutely beautiful episodes. Thanks for reading.