Aaaaaaaand we're back to the feels. Three days before the 50th, where there will doubtless be MORE feels. Sorry.
This is a story I had vowed never to do, because it's been done a million times over. But I couldn't help but notice there weren't a ton of these in River's POV, so here we are. Enjoy and/or cry your eyes out.
Disclaimer: I just saw the 50th Anniversary prequel. Not quite good enough to come up with that level of mad genius.
He turns up on my doorstep with a new haircut and a suit.
When I open my door and see him, I admit that I'm a bit peeved. It's been close to three months since I saw him last, and out of nowhere he decides to show his face and whisk me away in the middle of my packing.
Yet it takes but a moment to lose myself once again, hidden somewhere between his soft, lopsided smile and the way he delicately takes my hand to lead me to the TARDIS. Tonight will be special, I can already tell. All our far too brief times together are treasured, of course, but this is different. He's keeping something from me, something he tries to mask with an extra bounce to his gait and even more absurd antics than his usual, but I don't buy an ounce of it. He may lie, but my Doctor has always been rubbish at it.
My Doctor. It's been so long since I've found one whom I can call that. The past several encounters he's been getting increasingly younger, with a stubbornness and naivete that better suited his childish face. Last time it hadn't even been that face at all, but a mature, devilishly handsome countenance with unfamiliar yet just as ridiculous hair, a long trenchcoat that I could just see his following regeneration tripping on every other step, and a tie, for goodness' sake. But he had that same exact smile, though it had looked like he wasn't quite used to having it on his face, and he had brought along a picnic basket...
No, it's too much to think of now. He had known next to nothing on me apart from a name, an occupation, and spoilers. It had both shocked and terrified me more than I had expected. How much time do we have left?
Pondering his early days makes me think of my own, so when I get changed I decide upon his favorite green dress that I had refused to wear once upon a time, when he took me to see more stars in one sky than at any other moment in the history of the universe. So much has changed for me since then, and so much will change for the younger hims that will grow up into the man waiting for me in the console room.
All that matters now is that he's here, my husband, my love, my life. If the older him can still manage to cheat time a bit, then maybe our lives don't have to be as back to front as I thought. We can have forever.
One wrong turn into one wrong TARDIS later (younger version. Oh that sweet little boy with positively no idea what he's in for), and we are set acourse for Darilium. For almost as long as we've been adventuring together, I have begged him to take me to see the Singing Towers. He would put it off, always promising to take me next time, and even made me swear not to go on my own and spoil the surprise. But this time I didn't even have to ask; for some reason he decided that tonight was the night.
"Is it our anniversary for you, sweetie?" I tease as we pilot the Old Girl together (another rare occurrence, that he willingly let me fly her. What has gotten into him?). "Because I've told you a thousand and one times, if you just flip the temporal switches on then you can land far more accurately. April isn't another seven months for me."
The Doctor is uncharacteristically quiet as I chastise him, opting instead to look at me with that same wobbly smile, like he can't quite get it to work right. Then out of nowhere he rounds the bend and slides his arms around my waist- taking a few minor detours along the way- and nuzzling his face into my hair murmurs, "Do I need a reason to take my wife someplace special?"
"Never," I breathe out as I sink against him, and I can damn well feel that smirk ghosting on my ear. "But you've been saving Darilium for ages. There must be some reason for you to be celebrat- oh."
I pull back to give him a teasing glare. "You naughty boy, you. That's just cheating."
His brows knit together as he looks down at me. "What?"
Feigning innocence, no doubt. "I was going to tell you about my exhibition tonight, idiot man. But of course you couldn't wait, you never can. Had to skip ahead and see if I got it or not."
He flinches at that, and lowers his head to rest it on my shoulder. "There, there, darling, don't give me that guilty look," I say with a pat to his forearm. "I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but it's by no means my most significant acheivement. Chances are there'll be nothing to find, anyway."
He is still for a long moment, but then he lifts his head and shoots me that smile again. His hands then make the return journey, never breaking contact as he takes my hand and places it in the crook of his elbow.
"Never mind that," he says softly. "All that matters tonight, wife, is you and I."
He guides me to the door and opens it to what, I admit, at first seems an unextraordinary scene. It's lovely, yes, a lush green valley completely surrounded by a mountain range, but by no means the most breathtaking thing we had ever been to.
But as we step out of the TARDIS, I can't help but find beauty in its simplicity. There is a clump of trees on the outskirts, and from that emerges a small stream that winds its way about all the land before emptying itself in a crystal clear pond.
Except they don't have a word for pond. Because the only water in the forest is the river.
But those words spoken long ago swiftly flee my mind when the Doctor takes my chin and tilts it up. On one end of the valley a rock-faced tower juts into the twilight sky, majestic and gorgeous. Its counterpart sits on the other side, not quite as large but so stunning that I cannot tear my gaze away.
The Doctor takes me on a leisurely stroll as we admire the sight, going off on one of his usual tangents. "It may not look it, but these are naturally made. Weathered away by the wind in a way that makes them perfectly smooth..."
Eventually I don't pay attention, but simply take pleasure in listening to the sound of his voice as he talks. We continue along until we reach a beach just in front of the pond, where he turns to take my hand.
"River," he begins, suddenly nervous. "I- I've got something for you."
He fumbles through his pocket until he retrieves a small box, handing it to me shyly. Releasing his hand, I tear through the package eagerly only to stare in awe when the gift had revealed itself.
"Sweetie, it's not..."
"From my ninth and tenth regenerations. Burned out when I regenerated, but I've been tinkering with it over the years and got it working again." His face broke out into the closest thing to a true grin that I've seen all night. "Couldn't resist a few minor adjustments, of course."
I reach in with the intent to touch my husband's former screwdriver, but draw my hand back and try to return the box to its owner. "I couldn't. I know how important these all are to you-"
"Which is why I want you to have it," he says as he removes the sonic and presses it into my hand. "You're important to me too, River, more than you'll ever know, and- and..."
He trails off, the melody of the two towers wafting in to take his place.
"You hear that, dear?" he asks as he moves to stand behind me and place his hands on my arms. "The Singing Towers isn't just a clever nickname. They're alive, River. Legend has it that they are lovers, separated by the dictates of Time and Space, but they use music to sing of their love. That way, even as they remain divided, the other will always know."
He pauses to allow us to listen to the Towers' song, but we weren't doing so with our ears alone. I could sense it in my very core, rumbling through the ground and soaring in the air until it cocooned around us both, filling us from the inside out.
I feel the Doctor drop his forehead to the crown of my head. His sigh brushes through my curls, and I know he is hesitating on whether to continue.
But continue he does: "One milenium from now, the smaller tower will crumble. It had been weakening bit by bit over the ages, and then a passing storm came through and tore it apart. So the second tower was left to stand alone, but for the rest of its many days, up until its last when it too came tumbling down, it never sang another note again."
He draws in a shuddering breath, and I turn in his arms to see tears clouding his vision, but not quite falling.
"Doctor, what's-"
"I love you."
I can't stop the gasp that traitoriously escapes my throat. Never, in all our decades spent together, has he found the courage to say those three words. I've always known that he did, but to hear them pass through his own lips makes me realize how I have longed and waited for them.
It would have been a perfect moment, were it not for the sheen of tears in his eyes.
I reach up to cup both sides of his face. I try to brush my mind against his, but he has locked himself tight, hiding something. "Tell me what's wrong. What is it, sweetie?"
He chuckles quietly, his gaze locked on mine even as the tears break free. "Spoilers."
Then he bridges the gap between us- as close and far as the two towers- and kisses me. He collapses around me, hands everywhere all at once as he slowly makes his way from place to place, ones he has touched countless times before yet is treating it like it's his first. I gladly oblige, giving just as good as I got despite the tear tracks that run from his face to mine.
His lips move desperately, nipping and tucking as never before, like he's trying to consume my all. He soon sinks to the ground, dragging me down along with him. I am utterly powerless to his shocking intensity, and as I thread my hands through his hair and wrap myself around him just as he has done to me, I give myself in.
Later, his head is resting on my chest, listening intently to the calming duel heartbeat as we watch the sun break through the dark of the night, the pond water lapping at our feet. He is still as death, apart from the sporadic kiss to my skin, and the "I love you" that inevitably follows.
He can't bear not to say it for longer than a few minutes, though it's like he has to force it out, past a closed throat and curtain of tears. He seems to be making sure that I won't doubt for a moment of his love for me, only he doesn't realize that, even when he was young and stupid and afraid, I've known it all along.
The towers haven't stopped singing the entire time, but now a third has joined them. This one was not nearly as tall as the other two, but just as timeless. She is a legend, present throughout all of time and space in the unassuming form of a blue police box.
But the TARDIS' song is different from the Towers of Darilium. I can sense her in a way even the Doctor cannot, linked with her in mind, hearts, and soul. Her song is one of love, but something else as well. Grief.
After all these years, I know my Doctor better than myself, and the same is just as true, if not more, with my second mother. But for once in my rather long life, I am at a loss of where to even start figuring this puzzle out. What in time itself would make them behave this way? It must be of unimaginable agony to make the Old Girl sing in such sorrow, or have my age-hardened husband cry like a baby boy all through the night.
When the sun rises, we will go our separate ways. We won't say goodbye; neither of us can ever bear it. Just as always, we will kiss and then count the days until we meet again.
But as I hold my love just a bit tighter, I resolve that I won't just pine away, waiting and for him in true Pond fashion. I won't just send him a message and pray he'll come when he's supposed to; I will go after him this time. He's not in any state to be telling me anything tonight, but by Gallifrey I'll find him, pin him down with my hands and feet and whatever other body part I may need, and make him say what's the matter so that I can help put him back together again. I will do it.
Just as soon as I get back from the Library.