Little Blue Book
A/N: DISCLAIMER (1): I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters. Everything expressed in these short stories are products of my imagination playing in BBC's playground with its characters. I make no money from these, they are purely for my own entertainment. I will also be using specific scenes and lines for the show, so if something is familiar, 9 times out of 10 it is probably because you have seen/heard it before…and it belongs to BBC. DISCLAIMER (2): Each chapter in this collection is set to a poem of Christopher Poindexter. His poetry is so tragically beautiful and I found that so many could be applied to my favorite Doctor Who characters. So I did just that. You should check him out on instagram christopherpoindexter
Melody Pond, Mels, River Song…whoever the hell she was supposed to be now, stroked a delicate finger over the textured cover of her new little blue book. It was a journal with so many blank pages to fill. She found it next to her bedside wrapped in a pretty red ribbon after she woke up in the hospital of the Sisters of the Infinite Schism. She cracked open the journal, relishing in the strain of the new cover. And there it was: written in spiky, awkward chicken scratch, were his instructions:
My dear Melody Pond, River Song, my sweet River:
I want you to use this diary to document your meetings of me. Our timelines are moving in opposite, and this is to prevent you from revealing spoilers about my future. I have its twin and I will be doing the same for yours! Please understand that we left you here to make your own way in the world. One uninfluenced and interrupted. Your parents and I wanted to give you at least that much after what you've been through. Your life is now your own, you answer to no one. Be who you are and who you want to be. I know we will meet again soon, and I look forward to it.
Your Doctor.
River sighed heavily and pushed the unwanted feelings of betrayal and anger and bitterness away from her heart. The just left her here. Alone. In an unknown time in an unknown place. And it hurt. She didn't know him, but she missed him. She only took comfort in the knowledge that she would see them all again. Still weak and a bit weary from given up all of her lives for that mysterious man, River began to write.
I suppose it began for us in Berlin, 1938.
I was born and raised to kill you…brainwashed really. And you, you did everything you could to prevent me from being the monster I was trained to be. I was going to kill you. And I used Hitler as my cover. But unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever way you look at it, Hitler killed me. But I regenerated into this body. The form everyone knew as River Song. Everyone but me. I tried to shoot you, but all it took was a kiss. It was our first kiss, and now I'm a little upset it was so brief and ultimately fatal. I jumped out of that window and I left you there to die. And for that, I am so, so sorry.
Right up until you died, the very moment your life was ending, you didn't care about your death. You only cared about my mother and father...and me I suppose. You used your last gasping breaths to help them survive. You begged me to help you save them. Even then I still couldn't see you for who you were. You convinced me to save them. And I did. I flew that beautiful blue box and I got them out of the Teselecta. The machine hummed for me. She sang me the most beautiful song and her whispers caressed me and made me feel at home. She taught me to fly her. You told me I was hers, that I was the child of the TARDIS. She wanted me to save you. And my parents wanted me to save you. You whispered in my ear and told me to find River Song. I didn't understand why that was important at the time. You told me to tell River that you loved her.
I hadn't the foggiest that you meant me.
But then Amy had the Teselecta show me River Song. And I knew then I had to do anything to save you. I fought it, because it went against everything I was taught to believe in. You wanted River Song and I didn't think I could be her. But I had seen you. I had seen your soul, and I knew Amy was right when she said you were worth it. I kissed you and gave you everything of me to bring you back. I gave you all of my lives. And you were worth every bit of it, Sweetie. Because I look at you now and I know the sky fills your lungs and you breathe stars.
A/N: The last line of this one-shot was from Christopher Poindexter. "The sky fills your lungs and you breathe stars" is his intellectual property. From this chapter forward, all of his poems will be bolded in the story and credit, as in this chapter, will be given at the end.