A/N: Okay, so I know I should be working on Time and Again, but I was watching fanvideos on Youtube when I came across a very sad one. Then all I could focus on was writing something angsty, and this came about. So you can blame Youtube. I hope this oneshot turned out all right, all I could focus on was the emotion that came from the angsty video, which went through my fingertips and into a document.
This takes place during The Name of the Doctor (so spoilers!) during the kiss the Doctor and River shared. Please enjoy, and feel free to review or PM me! I would love to know how this turned out, because right now I'm too stuck on the angstyness of the Doctor and River to tell. Enjoy!
He gave everything to that kiss, because he got everything from that kiss. He felt everything, heard everything, saw everything, remembered everything.
Every memory.
Meeting her, watching her die. Meeting her again, and again, and again. Demon's Run. 1969. Asgard. Egypt. Kissing her once, then kissing her again, then never wanting to stop. He remembered Darillium.
He remembered standing in the Tardis doors in the middle of space, a black hole nearby and anger in his heart, and screaming his every emotion into the nothingness surrounding him. It's not fair, I'm not ready, Don't do this, and Why.
He heard everything she'd ever said to him, a million echoes in his head of every single word she'd spoken in his presence.
He saw a million Rivers, running past him, flirting with him, kissing him. He saw her the way she was every single time he'd seen her.
He felt every emotion, and there were far more than millions, billions, even. He felt the sorrow of losing her the first time. He felt the anger and frustration of not knowing who she was for so long. He felt the confusion that had come with a lot of what she'd said along the way. He felt the glory, triumph, and understanding that had come with knowing, finally, who she was. He felt the fear of falling, quickly and surely, in love with her. He felt the nervousness of it all. He felt the protectiveness that he had over her. He felt the love he had for her, shared with her, received from her; he loved her more than anything in any universe that ever existed, so there was quite a lot of love to feel. He felt the emotions that had coursed through him on the day he married her. Love, joy, hope, promise. He felt her piece him back together with every moment they spent together. The broken man, not broken anymore. He felt the despair of losing her, for real, in the end. He felt himself break yet again because of the loss of the very being that had mended him. He felt the hopelessness of not knowing what to do, how to carry on without her by his side. He felt the emptiness that her death had brought him. He felt the franticness. He felt the anger. He felt the betrayal of the universe. He felt the wreck that was his soul. He felt the tragedy that was the two of them. In the end, that's what it was. A wonderful, beautiful, endless, sad, hopeless tragedy that caused enough pain to bring him down, to make him want to sink into the nothingness that was space and time.
He saw everything they were, everything they are, flash through his mind during that one last kiss, the kiss that gave him everything, the kiss that mended him and broke him all at once. He didn't understand it; he never would. But he did understand that he would never, for as long as he lived, forget it.
