Timeline: for River this is before she's a professor, for the Doctor and Clara it is after season 7.

Summary: "Did my old man finally manage to drag mother out of all of time and space into one consecutive time stream?" He tried to hide it, the flash of agony that ran through him, but given the horrified expression now on her features he figured he didn't do it very well.

Disclaimer: All characters are copyrighted to the BBC and their respective creators. Title from the song 'Demons' by Imagine Dragons.


don't get too close it's dark inside

"You redecorated."

The Doctor spun around so fast it gave him whiplash. It wasn't River's presence that was shocking, he'd known she was coming, it was her words and the sudden biting feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was the first time she'd seen this TARDIS.

"It's rather dark and depressing don't you think? You haven't gone all brooding teenager on me have you?" She stopped her inspection of the TARDIS interior and came to stand in front of Clara, eyeing her up and down. "And hello, who are you? Doctor who is this? Have you been bringing other women home again?"

If he'd been in any other state he would have painstakingly reminded her that it was twice, and each time she had been the other woman he'd brought home. But as he was frozen with dread, he said nothing, and only stared.

"River?" Clara said cautiously. All her encounters with River had been strange in some sense. But that's to be expected when the first time she met her River was actually dead. It had made it quite difficult the next time she saw her and she was very much alive. Clara was in awe of how the Doctor had never given anything away.

But this River, this was all wrong. And Clara really wished the Doctor would say something already. His silence was extremely unsettling.

"Oh." River's expression instantly warmed. The threatening gleam in her eyes neutralised. "You know me then do you? Must be me from the future. So I have a future then. How fun. What's your name?"

"Ah…" Clara stumbled. "Um. Clara."

"Lovely name. Well hello Clara." River smiled at her amiably, "Doctor River Song. Though you already know that, don't you?"

"Doctor?" Clara repeated with a bemused frown, she'd only ever known River to be a professor.

"Are you a companion?" River asked lightly.

"Ah, yeah. I guess."

She paused, then nodded, then turned to her husband who was watching her with a form of enigmatic caution she couldn't quite read. She filed that away, it was always unusual when she couldn't read the Doctor. "So my parents have gone have they—"

"River when are you?" His voice sounded thick and dry as he tried to get the words out.

She didn't miss the signs that he was struggling emotionally. There were few things he could hide from her, just like there were few things she could hide from him without excessive amounts of will and precaution. Regardless, she opted not to press him on it.

"It was my birthday the other day," she smiled archly, mirth dancing in her eyes. "You took me ice skating – you are a horrible ice skater, Doctor. I'm surprised I still have all my toes."

Despite the inkling this should be a tense moment, Clara couldn't help laughing.

"Stevie Wonder?" the Doctor asked, barely above a whisper. He feared if he spoke any louder he wouldn't be able to mask how hoarse his voice really was.

"Oh yes. It was lovely sweetie. Though, then I came home and found a Roman outside my cell wanting me to help save my infant self from a mad woman. Just your average day."

"Sorry," he grimaced at the memory. Looking at it in retrospect made him quite guilty. He couldn't imagine what was going through River's mind when Rory asked for her help, and to see the devastation it caused when she refused must have been heartbreaking.

He was glad it had been Rory and not he who had asked. If it had been him, the anger ignited by her snub would have resulted in him saying words he'd have immensely regretted later. Even as it had happened he was irate with fury when Rory had come back to the TARDIS and it had taken all the centurion's skills of persuasion to keep him from striding straight into the Stormcage corridors and verbally abusing her.

Rory Pond. Always protecting his daughter – even when he didn't know it.

"I never would have sent him if I'd known."

River rolled her eyes. He took everything too personally, as though every comment was an attack on his conscience or a reminder of his mistakes.

"Don't apologise to me, you should have apologised to him for making him wear that dreadful outfit. So where are they? Never mind, spoilers, I know." She laughed. "Did my old man finally manage to drag mother out of all of time and space into one consecutive time stream?"

He tried to hide it, the flash of agony that ran through him, but given the horrified expression now on her features he figured he didn't do it very well.

"Doctor?" River's voice trembled. He could hear the dread, see the fear in her eyes, feel her reluctance to know. "Are they…?"

He looked at her sadly. "You know I can't tell you that."

"Well you should have sent the memo to your face." The words came out harsher than she'd intended but she didn't give any care to apologising. Suddenly feeling as though her legs were going to give way beneath her at any second, she turned her back to him and grasped onto the railing.

"Clara," the Doctor spoke flatly, he turned a pleading eye to her, "I'll explain all this later, just for now… can you give us a moment?"

"Oh, of course." Clara took hold of his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, smiling sympathetically at him. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"River," he said after they were alone. "I'm so sorry." He approached her with trepidation and stretched out a hand to lay on her shoulder. She shrugged him off as soon as his skin came in contact with hers.

"I should go," she mumbled, slipping past him hastily.

"Wait! River, no."

She was at the door before he could form any more protests or start outright begging. Her attempt to escape was thwarted when the door wouldn't open or even budge, no matter how many times she twisted, tugged and pulled the handle.

"Let me out," she said in a dull voice, without turning to look in his direction.

The Doctor exhaled. "It's not me keeping you in."

River sighed then pressed her forehead against the cold wood of the door. She instantly felt the life of the TARDIS pulsating against her skin.

"Come on dear, please. And don't even try and tell me this is for my own good." She shut her eyes, soaking in the comforting vibration that – despite her best efforts at resistance – was actually succeeding in soothing her. "I thought that was the case."

Having resigned to the fact she wasn't going to be let out, she released the handle. She stayed with her head on the door for a long moment, welcoming the steady hum of the TARDIS. Eventually she stepped back and made her way hesitantly back across the walkway. Passing the Doctor, eyes downcast, she fell into the chair and laid her head in her hands, elbows on knees.

The Doctor watched her, his eyes troubled. Suddenly feeling the energy drain from his body, he fell back against the console for support. He found looking at her so unbearable he squeezed his eyes firmly shut. If he couldn't see her, he couldn't feel the anguish – at least, that was the lie he told himself. After minutes of strained silence he finally spoke.

"I am sorry," his voice cracked. "I never thought about you coming here for the first time. Never considered what I'd say."

River lifted her gaze to his. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Her look of determination and complete composure didn't fool him. 'Hide the damage', she had said. Those words irritated him to no end, had haunted him since Manhattan. The thought that she purposefully concealed her real feelings from him to protect him, for his sake, had boiled his blood.

Had she been doing that the whole time he'd known her? Had he just not noticed because he hadn't known her well enough to read her yet? It was maddening. He didn't deserve that kind of sacrifice. He didn't want her to do that for him.

"It's not your fault," she said.

And that was the trigger. His eyes flared and the irrational fury that had been lurking at the back of his mind since the weeping angels, since the book, since she broke her wrist, returned in full force. The fact that this River hadn't done any of those things yet was irrelevant, he still knew she would. And she'd do them a thousand times for him.

This woman was so completely and utterly in love with him it surpassed common sense. He just wanted to shout at her sometimes.

"According to you nothing is ever my fault," he spat. River didn't flinch at his callous tone; she just continued to watch him with a look of understanding. It made him even angrier. "After everything I've done how can you trust me that much? How can you have so much faith in me? I don't want you to have faith in me. Everyone who does always pays the consequences. You don't even know what happened to them."

"And I'm not going to know, until for me, it happens." she answered softly but her tone still firm.

The Doctor could hear the traces of hurt in her voice, the slivers of pain she wasn't able to hide. It filled him with guilt. Here she was, having just found out something potentially dreadful was going to happen to her parents, not knowing what. And here he was, getting angry at her and reproaching her. It was the worst possible approach to dealing with his grieving wife – he knew that – what she really needed was comfort. But in his current state of mind he would've been a hopeless source of solace.

"That is, of course," River continued, "assuming I was there. I must have been, otherwise why would you have such qualms about telling me? The only explanation is I'd be changing my own timeline. So until then I have to have something to hold onto. And do you know what that is? Experience. Experience is why I trust you. Love is why I have faith in you."

He bit back a growl, shaking his head vigorously. He thrust the palms of his hands into his temples.

"You can be so stupid sometimes," he muttered. River's eyes darkened and through his hands the Doctor caught a glimpse of the steadfast steel in her eyes.

"Stupid because I love you?" she asked, her tone as hard and cold as stone. "If that's the case, then I'll happily be a fool. Tell me Doctor, would you really prefer it if I loved you less?"

He didn't answer. His only response was removing his hands from his face to look at her properly. River stood up and slowly moved towards him, her eyes softening with every step.

"I don't adulate you. I know you have faults. No one knows that more than me." She stopped in front of him and took both his hands in hers. "I was raised to recite every shortcoming you've had, every bad deed you've done, every cruel action you've made, every damaging after-effect you've inflicted, every regret you've felt and every tormenting memory you long to forget. Believe me. Nobody knows better than I how many mistakes you have made. And I know there will be plenty more to come. But none of that matters. And do you want to know why?"

His eyes pinched closed. She really did have a talent for dragging his demons into the light and igniting a flood of guilt. He sighed, meeting her gaze. "Why?"

"You are not perfect. You have your encyclopaedia of flaws, and so do I. But, my love." River took a deep breath, squeezing his hands. "Always and completely forgiven. Isn't that how it works? Heaven knows it's the only way I'm able to put up with younger you. Knowing that one day, you become this."

The Doctor grimaced, averting his gaze. "Remember that. I hate to say… you'll need to."

River's smile was filled with a melancholic understanding. She let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I promise, I'll never forget."

"I didn't mean to shout at you," he mumbled into her hair as he pulled her closer. She nestled her head into his neck.

"You get angry when you're hurt. I know that. Better you're angry at me than at yourself."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is. And I'm your wife, so I know best."

"I really am sorry."

River thumped his chest with her fist, not too forcefully that it would bruise, but not soft enough that he didn't feel it. "Stop it. Or you'll be even sorrier soon."

He gulped. "Understood."

"Doctor…" River murmured. Her voice was so faint he had to strain to hear her words. "What happened to them?" She didn't have to look at his face to know he was biting his lip and scrunching his eyes closed. "I know, spoilers. But Doctor, they're my parents. Can't you even tell me if they're dead?"

"The dead body of everyone who has ever lived and ever will live is out there somewhere in time and space. Amy and Rory's, yours, even mine." He was glad she couldn't see the wry smile on his features. It wasn't so long ago that he'd been to his, and he wasn't about to let her know that.

"That's not what I was asking."

"I know. But it's the only answer I'm giving." There was no way he was going to let her force it out of him, not this time.

River tilted her head up to look at him. The pleading in her eyes wrenched at his hearts. "I just want to know if it is going to kill me."

He sighed. He let go of her, took her shoulders in his hands and held her out in front of him so he could look her straight in the eye. "They're together, okay? That's all I can tell you."

River nodded. "Like they should be."

"Don't think about it too much, please. You can still see them, you still are seeing them. You still have so many adventures with them to look forward to, I know. I was there for some of them."

"You can still see them too." River reasoned. The Doctor shook his head.

"No, I mean. All you have to do, is go back and visit them while you were off travelling for decades and they were at home living life out on earth. I stayed with them all week not so long ago – in that part of their time stream – and yeah they're settled in and happy but they miss you. And what does it matter which one of you they see if they get to see you at all?"

"I can't and you know that," he answered, though his voice had lost some of its determination. "This… this is their lives River, and ours. One wrong step and I could ruin everything."

River caressed his cheek and he let out a deep breath, leaning into her touch.

"There is no way I'd be able to visit them," he said quietly, eyes troubled, "without them wanting to come on an adventure, or even realising something was wrong. There is no way I'd be able to see them without trying to change their future or warn them. And I can't do that."

She nodded solemnly, eyes empathetic. "I know when it's time to admit defeat. I'm obviously not going to change your mind."

He cupped the sides of her face and kissed her forehead. When he pulled away he wrapped her back up in his arms again. She buried the side of her head into his chest. After a moment staring at his vest and jacket she lifted her head to take in the whole of his attire.

"Funny, I always thought when you'd start wearing a new outfit that you would wear some kind of a hat."

The Doctor shrugged. "I do keep trying. But whenever I put something on my head someone comes along and blows it off."

She smiled up at him, a proper amused smile. It made his hearts sing. "Simple case of target practice."

He grinned back at her. "I didn't think you needed any practice."

"I wouldn't want to grow sloppy."

"You'd never give yourself the chance. You would have had a field day if you'd seen me in the clothes I was wearing not too long ago."

River leant back to look him dead in the eye, her arms still wrapped around his neck and his around her waist. Her eyebrow quirked curiously. "What were they?"

"I was a monk for a short while," he said airily.

River stared, her mouth agape. "A monk?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Mid-life crisis."

River pursed her lips. The Doctor didn't miss the devilish glint in her eye. "Or this body finally reaching puberty and the erratic hormones associated with it."

He scoffed loudly. "Mrs Robinson."

"That's Mrs Song to you," she countered. "Who's the girl?"

He sighed. "Clara Oswald, London, 21st century."

"You like the 21st century Londoners." She smiled teasingly. He didn't bother arguing. She did have a point. Most of his recent travelling companions had been from London. Amy and Rory were a strange exception.

"So how did you pick Clara up? Did you crash land in her backyard when she was a little girl, did you drop out of the sky and sweep her off her feet—?"

"I don't think she's interested."

River roughly nudged his shoulder forcing him to take a step back. She stared at him, hands on hips.

"There's no need to seem so put out by that. Wife here. Maybe I should have a little talk with her myself, be sure where her intentions lie."

He eyed her warily. River rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. I'm not going to threaten her. She seems like a nice girl. Makes me wonder what she's doing travelling with you." She turned to the console and began fiddling with the unfamiliar controls, committing them to memory. "Knowing what you do to women, the poor thing is probably star-struck."

"Don't worry. She still has her feet firmly on the ground. Every Wednesday, she does her…" he paused, searching for the right word, "errands in the morning, travels with me for a little while and then makes me drop her off again, the same Wednesday only a few hours ahead. And she won't come away again for another whole week."

River smiled, delighted. This was absolutely brilliant.

"You don't know how to cope do you? The thought of a human who won't just drop everything to run with you, and put up with it when you return them home months late. You can't comprehend why anyone would want to spend so much time on earth. I like her already. So how did you meet?"

If he told her how they met, he'd have to explain the whole multiple-lives-impossible-girl thing. And if he did that he knew River would be curious about how she could be the impossible girl, and the answer to that was most definitely spoilers.

From his silence and the pensive look on his face River knew what his answer would be.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that's spoilers."

"A bit… yes."

"Enough chitchat." River's expression quickly sobered, "I came here for a reason."

He matched her business-like mien. "I know."

"They need you."

His arched brow conveyed his disbelief. River sighed, defeated. She'd become accustomed to how easy it was to fool younger him. This him knew her too well.

"They're paying me to get the job done, and I need you," she muttered through gritted teeth, as though it was very nearly painful to admit it. "But they do need you too; they just don't know it like I do."

"Well we'd better get going." His too-innocent smile mocked her. River felt tempted to stick her tongue out. Before she had the chance he'd cupped her cheek and was kissing her.

"You fly her, I'll go find Clara."

The Doctor stopped in the doorway on his way out and watched her. She had her back to him as she flittered around the console pulling levers and pressing buttons. He considered briefly the fact this was the first time she'd seen this version of the TARDIS, and thus was the first time she'd flown it. And yet, she knew exactly what she was doing.

The TARDIS must be showing her, he mused. It only confirmed what he'd long suspected, River was her favourite. He was always left to work things out on his own.

What he most thought about was her and the massive bombshell that he'd been forced to drop on her. Amy and Rory were gone and she didn't know the when's, why's and how's of it. He wondered how long it would be for her until Manhattan. Had she known while they were running from the angels and searching for Rory, that that would be the end?

No wonder she had taken it better than he had and even encouraged Amy to take the chance to be reunited with her husband. He hadn't given much consideration to it at the time how she barely cried as they were saying goodbye, only giving in to the grief long after her parents were gone.

She must have suspected.

But if she did she hid it well. Just like always. He wished she wasn't so good at hiding her feelings. He wouldn't worry as much as he did if he could read her like an open book. Instead every time he sees her he is permanently second guessing and trying to deduce what she is thinking. Usually to no avail.

River's voice cut into his musings. He jumped.

"You shouldn't worry about me dear." She tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder. "I can look after myself. I'll be fine. Now go. I've got work to do."