River felt, rather than saw, the naked pain on his face an instant after she passed by the Doctor on her way out of the TARDIS. She didn't know what caused it, but the sheer anguish of that momentary expression resonated sympathetically in the back of her skull. They - where they meant River-and-the-Doctor-as-a-couple - were still new from his perspective, having just been married, and she wanted to respect his privacy and avoid spoilers. But oh, she ached for him. In more ways than one.

The Doctor felt his features contort with pain and guilt as he realized that other, younger River was on her way with the other, older him to the last place he ever wanted her to be. Because it was the last place he would ever take her, the place they would go before he met her for the first time in his other self. The first time for him. The last time for her. The time when he didn't trust her and she died. The time he lost her before he had her. He couldn't bear it. He composed his features and followed her out of the TARDIS, plastering on her favorite goofy grin in case she spotted him before he saw her. She loved him - though he couldn't understand why - and by all that anyone in the universe held as holy, he would make this evening good for her. Heartsbroken or not, he owed her that - his sweet and strange and clever River Song - she deserved more than him. For he was a broken old man.

River felt him in the back of her mind. Without turning around, she smiled. "Hello, Sweetie. Come see this." She was standing a few metres from the doors of the TARDIS, staring up into the night. "The stars are very close together here. Isn't it lovely?" She gloated over the view and the breeze and the scent of the night flowers growing in little purple clusters. In the valley spread out in front of them was a city of the type humans would call futuristic; it had neon lights and stately spires and airborne traffic. She loved this touristy part of being with him. She raised her arms to the night sky and shook out her hair, and felt his pain subside, just a little.

He put his arms around her waist from behind her, burying his face in the spicy-sweet scent of her hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in the feel of her, the smell of her hair and the silky smoothness of her skin and the sound of her breathing speeding up as she wrapped her arms around his under her breasts. "Yes," he agreed, "It's lovely." She was lovely. But he didn't say that, not out loud, not right now. He wasn't sure he could.

His tone was conversational, but behind it, in the back of her mind, she felt oh I need you please don't leave me, over and over, and it made her want to weep for him. But she couldn't, not now, now it was more important to convince him that he deserved to be loved. She didn't know why he wanted to be loved by her - she'd done nothing to deserve him - but he did. And by all that was holy she was going to love him and make him understand that he deserved the love so many had for him. She turned her head to look at him and found that his eyes were closed and tears were trickling out from under the lids. So she carefully caught a tear with her lips.

He shivered slightly and his arms tightened around her, but he didn't open his eyes. He just stood there, silently weeping, and she turned more fully in his arms to face him, lacing her hands around the back his neck. Words aren't going to convince him, she thought, it'll have to be done another way. And she closed her eyes and touched his forehead gently with her own. Oh! she thought with a shock of experiencing that deep connection consciously, it's so clear. Very little of what she felt was in words, but she understood nonetheless.

(need guilt pain fear shame love loss River-Melody-wife)

(comfort love desire my-doctor my-love)

And then there was a wash of memories, of the way the Doctor saw River herself, glowing with an inner spirit, flirting with him and laughing in the face of danger, kissing him until his knees went weak, screaming at him to shut up and realize that he is loved and that he deserves that love. And images of other faces and places and things, Rose and Donna and an older, tougher Amy and the Face of Boe and the end of the Earth and the planet Gallifrey and a giant library and somehow terrifying shadows and the Time Lord called the Master... and laced through it all, a terrible sense of guilt and shame and pain and self-loathing.

And then the images stopped and they were both gasping for breath.

His hands were clutching her hair now and he was crying into the curls with great shuddering sobs and babbling that he was sorry, he didn't mean it, everyone should hate him. She guided them both down among the springy purple flowers, heedless of their formal clothing, and held him and stroked his hair, murmuring that it was all right now, it was okay, he'd done what was necessary, she was here for him, please, please my love, don't cry, please. But he couldn't stop, and she sensed that this was centuries of pain and torment and trauma and he needed to let it out, so she just cradled and rocked and soothed him and cried silently onto his chest as he sobbed into her hair.

Eventually their crying subsided and they lay together among the flowers, spooned together, sleepily staring across the valley at the city in the distance. "I've done terrible things."

"I know. But you've done wonderful things too."

"I've hurt people, destroyed whole civilizations."

"And healed people, saved whole civilizations."

"I've sacrificed people I loved."

"Haven't we all? According to history, I've killed you twice already. You feel remorse and regret, and that's what makes you different from those who are truly terrible." She stroked the hand he had wrapped around her waist. "Would you forgive one of those sacrifices in a friend?" He started a bit and she smiled. "Of course you would. When your friend Jack had to make that sacrifice, what did you feel? Sympathy? Horror? Both?" She felt him nod, cautiously. "You - and Jack - have just lived longer than most and had to make more of those hard decisions". She rested her head against him and listened to his heartbeats.

His breath tickled the back of her neck as he sighed and whispered, "Thank you, River."

She snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Any time." She felt his weak chuckle against her back and she smiled wearily. "Spoilers?" He nodded emphatically this time "All right. I understand. But please... don't bottle it up for hundreds of years next time? I'm not sure either of us could survive that twice." And she cursed herself silently as he tensed behind her again. Damn, she thought, I guess that confirms my some of my suspicions. She kissed the only spot she could reach, the left hand she held in hers, and murmured, "It's all right, my love; whatever happened to me in your past, I'm here safe with you now. Please be here with me in the now." And then she shivered as he began to nuzzle her neck and the captured hand slid with agonizing slowness from her lips down the curve of her throat.

Her breath caught as his fingertips brushed against her breast and he nibbled at her ear, whispering her name against it. He slipped his hand into the bodice of her gown and stroked the breast until it came to a hard peak, and she moaned his name and turned to face him. She took his face in her hands, drawing him in and kissing him. He groaned and fisted his free hand into her curls, pulling her even closer. (need love fear) "River..." (it's all right, my love, stay with me). She arched her back and moaned another of those breathy little moans as he took the tip of her breast into his mouth, and he was almost undone by the sound. "Riv..."

"Shh... it's all right. Just stay with me here in this now." She whispered it as she pulled her dress off in one smooth movement and stood for a moment, arms outstretched to the sky again. (so beautiful). "Mmm... lie back, my love." He complied and she unclothed him with agonizing care, brushing tantalizingly against him, and he was never sure where she'd touch him next. And it didn't matter because she was River and she was with him and they were safe here, together, in the protective shadow of the big blue box.

And then his skin was as bare as hers and they were stretched out together on the bed of purple flowers. She nipped at his jaw and he gasped her name, his hands clutching for something - anything - to steady him as River nibbled along his jaw to his mouth. She raised her head and smiled at him, grasping the flailing hands and settling them on her hips as she took him in. And then she began to move, her whole body stroking his, with every nerve in their skins reacting to the other's presence. At the end, he shouted her name and she cried out his, and the stars smiled on the lovers in the field of flowers as they came to rest.

And before they slept, each felt an echo of here together, always and completely, in the Now.