Doctor River Song and The Doctor of Gallifrey.
It all has to end sometime. Every life, every passion, every remembrance of every moment of every life. And it was ending soon. It all has to end sometime, but it was getting harder and harder to remember that in the midst of it all. He was finally easing himself into to comfort around her, finally dropping his guard just the slightest bit. It pained her to see the lost pieces of time that hadn't yet reached his eyes stay ingrained in her mind; she had seen his future, he was making his way towards her past. Traveling in opposite directions was a painful thing; it's hard to turn around in a one way lane.
She stares at the photograph; the only thing left of the not-yet-happened moments of time that he would encounter soon. One photograph to represent years of memories: the only physical thing she had allowed herself to keep after the last meeting. It was all ending, and she knew she had to let go of it before it broke her heart completely, but it was so hard.
Letting him know her identity was coming up in his timeline, and then she knew it would be time for the final meeting, of him not knowing. A sob catches in the back of her throat, trying to force it's way out, breaking the silence. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, desperate to break the dam holding them in.
She forces it all back and rips the memory in her hand.
The sound produced by the rip feels like a knife, plunging into her heart as she tries harder to make the tears go away. Another rip. And another. And another. Tears finally escaping, hitting a pile of pieces from a shredded photograph on the floor: a pile made of a broken heart. Holding in the sob desperately, she sweeps the pieces into her hand and drags her weary self to the TARDIS door, opening it and gazing into the starry sky that they floated in so peacefully. Open hand. Pieces fall. Door close. Sob escapes. Sink against door in defeat.
The memory, the very last memory, now scattered across the cosmos for eternity to find. ~
"River?"
She lifts her head every so slightly from her knees, her red face covered by her hands, as if trying to trap the sobs from ever leaving her mouth.
"Well don't do that, someone might mistake you for a weeping angel." The Doctor chuckles at his joke, reaching up to absentmindedly touch the untied bowtie that hangs around his neck. River drops her hands, now staring blankly at him. "Right, well, not a good time, then?" He mutters, fiddling with the bowtie. He adverts his eyes from her as she continues to stare at him. She drops her head again.
"River, I came in here because I heard crying. Are you okay?" He murmurs, dropping down into a crouch beside her. He waits, but to no reply. "River, what's wrong?" She chokes back another sob.
"Nothing," she whispers into her knees. "Leave me alone."
"River," he places a hand on her shoulder, "You have to tell me what's wrong." The Doctor sits down completely next to her, looking solemnly at the defeated woman.
"I can't."
"River, you have to tell–"
She snaps her head up, anger fixing itself onto her, cutting him off- "I can't tell you. You think I like keeping everything from you?" Her face falls back into sadness, her tone softening; "sweetie, I can't tell you." She pauses and lets a bitter smile creep onto her face– "Spoilers."
The Doctor sits silently for a moment, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it again, and gets up. Taking a few steps slowly, he turns back, a weary expression gracing his should-be-old face. "Goodnight, River," he murmurs, looking sadly at the weeping woman.
"Goodnight, Doctor," she whispers back. At her words, he shuffles into another wing of the TARDIS without looking back. Another sob catches in the back of her throat.
Always letting him get away.
word count: 733
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xoxo, Juniper