Disclaimer: Recognizable characters are not my own - I just borrow them.
Pairing: River/Eleven
Summary: "You're too good for me."
Rated: T
Notes: Written 6/22/15
River/Doctor prompt: "You're too good for me."
Title from 3 Doors Down "When I'm Gone"
to be the one you wanted me to be
"You're too good for me."
It's not as though he's not had the thought before.
River has always been better than him; he's always needed her to be better than him. So good that he cannot possibly deserve her.
He knew the first day he met her, when she gave her life to save 4,022 strangers long lost. To save a version of him that at best didn't know her and at worst considered her a threat to his ego - too consumed with being the smartest person in the room to realize that it must be killing her.
No, he'd realized then. He just hadn't wanted to deal with it. With her. With the mysterious woman from his future who knew everything except how to save herself.
He knew when she asked him to trust him and he scoffed - even though she'd already more than proven she was someone he would and did trust utterly and completely - and she merely turned to her mother for help without missing a beat to linger over his harsh words.
He knew in Berlin, when she gave the rest of her lives for him. When he tricked her into giving the rest of her lives for him.
And he knew at their wedding, when he tried to trick her into killing him again without bothering to explain why, even though he knew it was cruel to ask her to do so, even though he had to be cruel to get her to want to - and instead she professed her love on top of a dying universe, with every species in existence looking down.
River Song is far, far too good for him.
True to form, he's never had the courage to say the words out loud before: not when she called him the best man she knew and he swallowed back the guilt of it, and not when she swore that she loved him more than anything in the universe and he said she embarrassed him.
Somehow, wrapped around her in the soft warmth of their bed, watching the steady rise of her chest with her every breath, the truth of it hits him so obviously that he can't not admit it.
River rolls to face him, worry creasing her brow and sleep still at the edges of her eyes, as though she's so attuned to him that even the barest whisper brings her awake. Her hand caresses his jaw. "Sweetie?" Her voice trembles, concerned, and then settles into a mask of finality. "Don't be ridiculous."
"It's true."
He offers her a small smile, the best he can manage, because he doesn't mean to worry her. Doesn't mean to add more to her burdened shoulders, but somehow he always does.
She doesn't deny it a second time. "What's brought this on?"
The Doctor shrugs as best he can, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "Nothing's brought it on - it's not -" he sighs, stretching to brush a soft kiss to the line on River's forehead and squeezing her to him extra tightly. "It's fine - I'm fine. I'm just - lucky to have you, is all."
River endures his grip, all her luscious curves pressed against his harsh lines. "You certainly are at that," she agrees, trying to lighten his mood as she wriggles into a more comfortable - and considerably more intimate - position.
"Mmm," the Doctor presses another kiss to her hair, catches her wandering hand in his own, and closes his eyes against the renewed wave of inadequacy at her attempts to comfort him.
River settles against him and they lay in the soft TARDIS light for a long moment, listening to the hum of their ship. The Doctor dares to hope that River might fall back asleep and remember his confession as little more than a dream, a slip of the tongue.
"I killed you the day we met," River whispers, her lips forming the words against his collarbone. "All you wanted to do was save us."
It's the Doctor's turn to frown, but River won't meet his eyes. "That's not how I remember it. You saved everyone - I was the one who tricked you into burning through all your lives." She was young and scared, and he manipulated her into saving his life, even though he knew it would kill her later.
"That's not how I remember it."
He releases her to scrub a frustrated hand through his hair, and River lifts herself up on her elbows to watch him. He tries to explain, but he's never been able to find the words to admit to his long list of crimes. "I don't deserve you."
River doesn't let him look away, his jaw in her firm grip. "It's not about what we deserve. Oh, my love, if the universe gave us exactly what we deserved, it would be a sad universe, indeed. You're the best man I know," he sighs heavily because she doesn't understand, and River glares. "No, stop it. You're the best man I know, and I know you, Doctor. I know all your triumphs and defeats, days saved and lives lost. I don't care if you think you deserve me because there is no one I would rather have by my side and in my bed than you." She blinks, her eyes shining a bit too bright, and takes a breath as she composes herself. "What I will not have is my husband wallowing in self-pity, understand?"
She rolls off and away, her shoulders tense and angry, and the Doctor is torn between his continual disbelief at how fiercely River loves him (and how desperately he loves her in return, with every piece of him), and how inadequate he feels to find the words to match her devotion. He also feels more than a bit rubbish for upsetting her.
The Doctor scoots across the sheets until he can fit his body around River's, still stiff and unyielding. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck and wills the words to come to him, for once. Words are his greatest asset, but with River, it seems he's forever lacking.
He truly doesn't deserve her, but he'll fight the universe to his dying breath rather than give her up.
There's really only one thing he can say.
"I love you."
The words feel fragile and not nearly grand enough, but River softens immediately, her hand lacing with his. "I love you too, sweetie."
And maybe it doesn't matter if he's good enough, or if he deserves her because he can hear the smile in her voice and it's enough.
