Title: To the Hazel Wood
Author: kyrilu/Endless-chan
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairings/Characters: Eleventh Doctor/River Song; Eleventh Doctor/Jack Harkness
Rating: PG. Warnings for alcohol and character death (both canonical and non-canonical.)
Summary: In which the Doctor and River Song get a happy ending, of a sort, and Jack receives a TARDIS-blue envelope.
A/N: Spoilers for 4x08, 4x09, 6x01, and the entirety of CoE. Basically, an alternate ending fic.
To the Hazel Wood
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
The Doctor once told River, a wide grin stretched over his face, "Don't you ever forget me, River Song. I'm unforgettable. The very definition, in fact. The very synonym. It's the most un-antonym-ish thing you could ever call me."
The Doctor pulls River aside to dance, his forehead creased.
"Are you alright?"
He nods, a terse little gesture that isn't fooling anyone. River shakes her head, but takes his hands anyway, and they both sway in time with the music - music, full of singing voices and the strum of unrecognizable instruments and River smiles, and hums along.
The Doctor watches her humming, a small smile upturning the corner of his lips. He is dancing, or, attempting to dance, as he clumsily shuffles his feet and tangles his arms with hers. "You know this song?"
She shrugs. "Maybe," she says. Turning and turning, she recites mentally. The darkness drops again.
"I know a lot of songs," the Doctor says, spinning randomly in place. "I know Earth music rather well - jazz and pop and classical and rock and roll-" here, he relishes rockandroll on his tongue - "I know Earth whales' songs and star whales' songs and Klingon drinking songs: 'ej HumtaH 'ej DechtaH 'Iw!" he exclaims with a flourish.
River rolls her eyes. "Doctor, sweetie, you know how I feel about that stupid bloodwine."
The Doctor blanches. "Ah. Yes. I think I do remember that now." He treads on her toes again.
"We really need to get you dancing lessons," River says. "Maybe I can be your teacher. You can call me Mrs. Song, and then we'll tango." She lowers her voice, suggestively, at the last word.
She receives a blush in response - the Doctor can be such a boy sometimes, really! - and he stutters, "Well, I think I'll look dashing with a rose in my mouth. It'd be interesting to go round with one all the time. I hope I wouldn't get a thorny one, though. Thorns aren't very good on a Time Lord's gums."
River laughs, and the Doctor smiles widely back at her, but she can still see that inexplicable sadness lurking behind his eyes.
She's quite drunk, wine sloshing around in her stomach, warm and heavy. The Doctor is rather pissed, too - he'd drank some glasses of the local wine, luminescent blue stuff that dyed his tongue sapphire; River had tried some and thought it was disgusting - it tasted like blueberries and salmon and acid rain, but the Doctor seemed to like it.
They tumble into the TARDIS, collapsing into the console room into two separate heaps.
"And then," the Doctor says, trying to tell her the story of the time he went this or that place and did something or other, "I took out my sonic screwdriver and-"
River presses a finger to his lips. "Sweetie, you're rambling. I have no idea what you're saying."
"Me neither!" he says, gleefully. He sweeps her into a hug, thin pale arms enveloping around her waist, and then he's kissing her neck and working his way up, his breath reeking of glow-in-the-dark blueberries.
"Oh Doctor," she says, before meeting her lips with his once he makes his way to her mouth. He kisses her nose, left eye, right eye, forehead.
"That's not my name," the Doctor frowns, leaning unsteadily against her. He kisses her ears, and whispers, "Doctor Professor River Song Melody Pond, you'll need this, you know. Listen to me. My name's-"
Her eyes widen in astonishment, but she hears him, and she remembers.
Of course, by the time they reach the bedroom, he's already fast asleep and curled up next to her. River sighs, and ruffles the mop of brown that is his hair, fondly straightening his bowtie.
"What are you so worried about, sweetie?" she says out loud.
It takes a while, but she finally sleeps, his name echoing in her ears.
River wakes up alone. Instead of the Doctor, she finds a note:
Good morning, River. Sorry I'm not here - had to take care of some business in the farther parts of the TARDIS; looks like she has an archiving problem or something. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but it's got to be taken care of soon, and I thought you'd like to sleep some more.
You can go ahead and pilot the TARDIS back to your archeology-business-stuff - you have work this morning, right? Just program the TARDIS to return to the Vortex before you leave.
By the way, I left my sonic on the dresser. You'll need it. Don't worry, I got a spare.
Then, on the bottom, in a hesitant scrawl:
Be safe. I'll see you soon.
River rereads it again, before she finally slips on fresh clothes, tucking the sonic screwdriver into her pocket. She touches the sentence I'll see you soon, memorising each curve of letter, each flick of ink, before she finally strides out to the console room, excitedly anticipating her expedition.
She leaves a paper on the console:
Thanks for the heads-up, sweetie. I had fun last night, by the way, and I hope we can do another date again soon! - River xoxoxo
River says, to a Doctor who does not know her, "You'll see me again."
River says, to a Doctor who does not love her (but perhaps is starting now), "You watch us run."
The fifth TARDIS-blue envelope - a date, a time, a map reference.
And a miniscule plug-in flash drive.
Jack turns the small device in his hands, and eases it gently into his vortex manipulator. A hologram springs out - and it's the Doctor, a Doctor he's never met before. A young man with old eyes, a bowtie at his neck and a long green coat sweeping at the ground.
"Hullo, Captain Jack Harkness," the hologram begins.
"Doctor," Jack says softly. He almost reaches out to touch the holo, but he holds back, withdrawing his hands quickly.
"I'm so sorry," the image says, flickering blue light at his face. "Funny how we always seem to begin this way, yeah? But really. I'm sorry about the 456 and your wonderful Ianto and your little grandson, and I'm sorry about Miracle Day, and I'm sorry about abandoning you and the Year-That-Never-Was, and I'm sorry that I'm a rubbish doctor who can't fix you at all."
Jack's breath catches - 456 Ianto Steven Miracle Day - but he's forgiven the Doctor a long time ago. "It's okay," he says, shakily, to the unresponsive picture.
"I owe you so very much, Jack. I know I have no right to ask you this, but," the Doctor musters a smile, "run. Run for me one last time. Please. I left you some directions on this flash drive, and all you've got to do is follow them."
The Doctor closes his eyes: inhales, exhales. He finally opens his eyes to murmur, "Did you know, I never got a chance to tell Rose I love her? Because I do, and I did back then, and I always will.
"And guess what, Captain Jack Harkness! I love you too. I love you too, and I just have to say: It's been fun."
And the Doctor's grinning so widely, so amazingly himself. "Be happy, Captain. Be happy, and live long, and love long, and remember that you're a good man, no matter what."
Then the hologram flickers off. All that's left is a screen of directions, starting with the sentences:
One for the lake, one for the library, one back home. No more, no less, Jack.
Jack is trembling once he finishes reading. He reaches for his vortex manipulator and feels his own atoms breaking down, rearranging themselves to a new time place date-
He's crying when he disappears. He's still crying when he lands onto sandy ground, prepared to dive into a cold lake.
All to find a single screwdriver.
Keep swimming, the note had said. No matter what you find at the bottom of Lake Silencio, keep looking, and don't give up.
Underwater, Jack clenches a burnt red bowtie in his hands.
"Doctor," Captain Jack Harkness says, drawing an arm into a salute after he plugs in the sonic into one of the library's many panels.
The sonic screwdriver shimmers a gentle green.
Jack blows it a kiss, and finally goes home.
The world here is so, so bright. The Doctor wakes, blinking away the light from his eyes.
He climbs his way up a green hill, his feet slightly unsteady. There's a woman in a white dress standing on the very top, holding a blue book in her hands.
"Sweetie," she says, turning around to smile. "There you are. I was waiting."
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
'The Song of Wandering Aengus', WB Yeats.