A/N: Still reeling from the season finale of Doctor Who.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.

Green eyes.

She had green eyes.

She had green eyes, and curly hair (great hair), and she was brilliant (sassy and sexy and so clever). She was beautiful, she was confident, she was his.

And she had always been his.

"My bespoke psychopath." He tells her, and she smiles.

His Melody.

His River.

River, River, River.

And he remembers. He remembers Asgard; he remembers how her eyes shone when she teased him, how she laughed at his poorly hidden jealousy when she was approached by some locals. He remembers what she said:

"Sweetie," She laughs, shaking her head at his disgruntled expression, "why would I consider anyone but you? You know just as well as I do that you're the only man I could ever be with."(He never understood how such weighty words slipped so easily past her lips.)

She winks saucily at him, flirtatious as ever, and he wishes he could tell her he loves her.

But he couldn't.

He was afraid to breathe life into those feelings, because he knew how it would end.

And he hates endings.

(Funny, because River began with an ending, but he didn't run from their story.

Maybe because she told him not to.

"Don't you dare." Her face is hard, but her eyes beg him, and he will never forget that she died for him.)

And now it's over, now she's gone, and he wishes he had told her more often.

He could count on one hand the number of times he had told her he loved her.

He knows it hurt her.

So many things he did hurt her, but she stayed. She always stayed, and she was always strong, and she never let herself need him as much as he let himself need her.

And that hurts him.

He wishes River would have let him be strong for her. He wishes she would have let him shoulder her burdens.

In a way, she was his Doctor. Supporting him, healing him. She pushed aside all her problems to focus on him. Hiding her pain to keep him from his.

He failed her.

That's the worst part.

He was always hurting her, always taking from her, and she never held it against him. She loved him, loved him so much she was willing to let the universe burn for him.

He doesn't want to think about the lengths he would go to for her.

It frightens him.

If he could save her, if there were a way for her to escape the Library...

So he has to think of her as dead. There is no echo, no imprint of her saved to the data banks of the Library.

There is no goodbye.

He wonders if she's alive somewhere, somewhen. He hopes, but he's not sure what he hopes for; seeing her would be just as tortuous as not seeing her is. She's dead.

But so alive.

Every curly mane, every sultry laugh, every woman reading a detective novel is her. Every click of a heel, every blaster, every flash of green.

"You are beautiful." He whispers in her ear, reveling in her warmth as he thrusts into her, "You are so beautiful."

She screams when he hits her sweet spot, kissing every inch of him she can reach. This is when River is at her most vulnerable, when she surrenders herself to him, when she lets go.

"I love you." She replies, out of breath, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

He remembers sex, and making love, and he remembers how crazy she drove him.

The Doctor frowns, "Haven't I told you not to touch the TARDIS?"

"Oh, please, Sweetie." She scoffs, "I'm the most qualified pilot here."

Amy and Rory laugh, and the Doctor scowls.

"Not in front of the Ponds, River."

She laughs, "It's nothing new to them, Sweetie."

He huffs, throwing himself into the pilot's seat, "You don't even make the sound!"

"Because I know what I'm doing."

And she did.

River always seemed to know what she was doing, even when she didn't, even when she was afraid. She was brave, and quick on her feet, and she always seemed to know what he was thinking.

(It scared him, a little. To have someone be so very familiar with him-especially at first, when he didn't know her-was incredibly unnerving. It made him vulnerable to her, and that was something he was unused to.)

He remembers Darillium. He remembers singing towers, and getting that haircut, and trying to distract her with other trips because he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to lose her, because she was his and he was hers and he knew that they could last forever.

(The first woman he loves in a long time who can live just as long as he can, and she sacrifices herself for him.

They couldn't run fast enough.)

He remembers how she ran her fingers through his hair, how she kissed his tears away. He remembers that she didn't say a word, trusting that he would tell her if he needed to, knowing that he wouldn't want to.

He wishes she would have pushed him. He wishes he could have told her not to go to the Library. He wishes they had run off, consequences be damned.

He knows she wouldn't have let him, knows he wouldn't have been able to, despite how much he wanted to. There were rules to time travel, rules that had to be followed. And he knows that she would never have let him trade his life for hers.

"I'll suffer, if I have to kill you." She whispers brokenly, and his hearts ache.

"More than every living thing in the universe?" He can't think about how much he loves her, how desperately he wants to kiss her (he can't really, not while in the Tesseract).

"Yes." She shudders, and it hurts him that he won't be able to properly kiss his bride.

River, River, River.

He sees her everywhere, like she's spread across all of time and space, and it's killing him.

River's gone, and the Ponds...

"You are creating fixed time." His throat is clogged, because he knows Amy, knows she won't listen, knows she will always choose Rory (always Amy's choice), "I will never be able to see you again."

He can't lose her, not his best friend, not his lovely Amelia.

"I'll be fine." Her voice quivers, and he wishes he could hug her, "I'll be with him."

The Doctor knows he's being selfish, because she belongs with Rory, but he can't help it, "Amy, please. Just-" She starts to sob, and his hearts sink, "-come back to the TARDIS." He doesn't try to hide his desperation, "Come along Pond, please."

For a moment she does nothing but weep, and he stands there, allowing his tears to fall because that's all the answer he needs.

Amy Williams (not Pond) turns to face him, no longer his (Amelia Pond is his companion, Amy Williams is Rory's wife). She meets his eyes, "Raggedy man," His face crumples at the title, because Amelia Pond and Amy Williams are one in the same, "Goodbye."

And then she's gone.

It's too much to bear.

Everyone close to him dies.

He can't make the mistake of caring again.

So he becomes the man who lives in the clouds.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed. This is my first Doctor/River, as well as my first Eleventh Doctor piece. I wrote this because the Doctor/River closure in "The Name of the Doctor" made me sob, and I needed to vent. Expect some Clara/Doctor (or Whoufflé) sometime soon.