Chapter 6: Permission

River Song sat in the living room of her small but comfortable home, a letter clutched in her hand. It reminded her of the good old days, when she'd send the Doctor a psychic message and he'd come running. Every night he'd visited her at Stormcage, without fail. He'd never missed a night. Of course that all changed when she received her pardon. Now she was lucky if she saw him from one week to the next. More than anything else that told her what his intentions had been all those years. To keep his promise to make it up to her, just as she'd kept hers to remain in prison until she was freed legitimately. Some would be surprised to learn that she looked back on those days fondly, that a part of her wished to be back there again, back when she saw her Doctor every day.

Sighing, she glanced down at the letter again, rereading it quickly.

"River, the Doctor needs you." It was signed "Amy – your mother – you know who I mean."

That was it – the Doctor needed her. It didn't happen often, in fact only once. The day Rory came to Stormcage and she'd had to turn him away. It wasn't the right time. Oh, how angry the Doctor had been when she'd finally arrived at Demon's Run.

She'd been forced to ignore that summons – foreknowledge was a bitch sometimes – this time she could please herself. Placing her vortex manipulator on her wrist, she concentrated on arriving soon after her mother's note had been sent, activated it, materialising a microsecond later at the TARDIS door. She didn't knock, just pushed it open and stepped into the control room. She felt the welcoming hum even as she turned to face the disgruntled look on the Doctor's face.

"You called River?" the Doctor glared at Amy, his arms folded over his chest as he refused to look at River herself.

"Had to, Mister Mopey," Amy was unapologetic. "What choice did you leave me?"

"Mother?" River ignored the Doctor after a silent assessment where she decided that on the surface, he seemed fine. A little tired perhaps, and certainly a lot less jovial than he usually was, but nothing that seemed to warrant a call for help.

"River," Amy hurried forward to greet her daughter.

"He seems fine," River murmured, eyeing the Doctor who was determined to ignore her. After their recent adventures and the progress she thought they'd made, it was disheartening.

"He's not," Amy said in a low tone. "In his room for hours on end – researching he says. Going off without us. And his mood – if I didn't know better I'd say he was depressed. The Doctor can't get depressed, can he?"

"I don't know," River's eyes narrowed. "He does look …. defensive."

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not standing right here," the Doctor complained.

"Then stop acting like a spoilt child," River replied pleasantly. "You're worrying Amy and Rory, which isn't like you at all."

"There you all go again! I'm tired of people telling me what is and isn't like me," the Doctor's voice was quiet and grim and reminded her of the time he'd called her a bad girl and then scoffed at the thought that he could ever trust her. "Especially when they have no idea, not really. Your lives are so fleeting, over in the blink of an eye. Where are any of you when the eye opens, eh?"

He let River see the expression in his eyes then and she almost stepped back. He was irritated but there was fear too and determination to close himself off. Amy was right – something was wrong with the Doctor. He turned and stormed off, into the bowels of the TARDIS before anyone could say another word.

"How long has he been like that?" River asked, her eyes on the doorway he'd disappeared through.

"A few weeks," Amy revealed.

"Since he visited you," Rory added. "Or at least we think it was you. He said he needed to visit the old ball and chain. He stewed over it for a few days and then he took off."

"Did he?" River's brow arched.

"I told him not to call you that," Rory quickly added.

"So, did he visit you?" Amy asked hopefully.

"It's difficult to tell," River reminded them that time was a convoluted concept between her and the Doctor. "It's true, I haven't seen him for a few weeks, and when he visited then he was … different."

"Well, there you go," Amy nodded briskly. "Go and speak to him. Sort him out before he does something stupider than normal."

"I'll see what I can do," River promised, making her way down the same corridor the Doctor had used. She knew where his room was – he wouldn't know yet that she knew, but even if she hadn't the TARDIS would have told her. The TARDIS liked her, enjoyed having her on board, and River suspected, enjoyed even more when the Doctor was happy. She was telling River that wasn't the case right now.

"I know dear," River murmured, resting her hand on one of the walls as she walked passed. "Don't worry, we'll sort him out."

"Go away," the Doctor said without turning around when she opened his door unannounced.

"Can't do that," River said lightly, stepping inside his room and closing the door behind her. It was cluttered but also organised, with various bits and pieces he'd picked up around the galaxy dotting every surface.

"Of course you can. You do it all the time – why not now?" The Doctor graced her with a single, disgruntled look, before turning away again.

"You know why not," River admonished. "Is this about the letter?"

"Aren't you worried about spoilers?"

"No. For now it seems we're travelling in the same direction," River replied.

"Novel," the Doctor's tone was sarcastic. "I'm sure it won't last."

"What's wrong?" River moved to his side, kneeling so that she could meet his eyes.

"Why does something have to be wrong?" the Doctor wouldn't look at her, casting his eyes anywhere but on her face. "Can't a man enjoy a good sulk without having to get a note from the teacher asking for permission?"

"Sulking is a perfectly acceptable occupation," River put a hand over his, "and if that was what this is, I'd happily leave you to it."

"What makes you think it isn't?"

"You're putting out too much emotion for a sulker. I can see it so don't bother denying it." She gasped when he finally looked directly at her. "You're angry … with me," she realised in a rush. "Why?"

"What do you want from me River?" the Doctor jumped up, moving away, his back to her.

"The truth," she said quietly.

"The truth?" he laughed harshly, turning to face her. "That's rich, coming from you. Isn't your favourite word 'spoilers' – a convenient excuse for every lie you've ever told me."

"You know the rules," River reminded him, trying to work out what was really going on here.

"My rules," the Doctor returned. "Well, now the shoe is on the other foot, sweetie. It's your turn to see what it feels like, to want to know what the other person knows and have them refuse to tell you."

"This is about my future," River realised.

"No! Yes!" he growled in frustration, running his hands over his face and through his hair. "This is about our crazy life River. Aren't you tired of it? Because I am. I'm tired and I'm old and I'm not sure I want to do this anymore." He sat on his bed, the emotions dropping away leaving his shoulders slumped in defeat. It wasn't a picture she could accept.

"What can I do?" she asked, moving to sit beside him.

"Nothing," he said in a low tone. "There's nothing anyone can do."

"You always say that but it's never true," River reminded him. "There's always a solution."

"And if that solution breaks the biggest rules of all?" he asked, giving her a sideways glance.

"Aren't you the one who always says that time can be rewritten?" she teased with a faint smile. "The fact that you're sitting there certainly proves that to be true."

"And how many problems have I caused?" the Doctor countered. "How many times have I risked the destruction of everything I hold dear, just to suit myself? When does it stop River?"

"I don't know," River sighed.

"If I wanted you to go and never come back, to leave me alone, would you?"

River caught her breath, the pain in the fact that he was actively considering it staggering. "I don't think that's up to me," she managed to get out.

"But if it was, could we stop this?" he gestured to the space between them.

"Why?"

"What do you really know of me, River Song?" he asked quietly. It was a strange sort of conversation, neither of them looking at the other, each determined not to let anything show.

"Enough to know that I'll never love anyone as much as I love you," she was so used to putting her emotions on the line for him but this time the hurt was there because she had to. He'd been in a similar situation when she was younger but it wasn't the same. He'd never had to bare his soul to gain her trust, not like she'd had to do with him. She'd known, from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him … it had been as simple and as complicated as that one, single moment.

"Maybe that's a bad thing. Maybe what you feel for me is a rubbish sort of love but you just don't know any better. If you'd never known me, who's to say the love you'd find with someone else wouldn't be better?"

"I would say it," River said firmly.

"But you wouldn't know," the Doctor pointed out.

"Yes I would," River countered irritably. "Child of the TARDIS, remember? All those alternatives, there in the time vortex. The ones that are and the ones we stopped – I can still see them all. I know. Just as you do."

"I don't want this," he said firmly.

"I know that too," River said gently, "but we don't always get what we want. Sometimes, if we're very, very lucky, we get what we need instead."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Remember that day, in Berlin?" she asked.

"Hard to forget," he replied.

"All I wanted was to get rid of the voices in my head telling me what I had to do," River said. "When I did that, when it all began to fade as though I'd never heard them at all, I just wanted freedom. Freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted. To be what I wanted. No responsibilities, no pressures. Instead, I got you. You and this River Song you couldn't stop talking about. I was jealous even though it made no sense. And then I found out she was me. You put so much responsibility on me, so much expectation to become the woman you knew. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I needed."

"And you're saying I need whatever this is between us in the same way?" the Doctor frowned, his hands clenching and unclenching as he considered her words.

"You've been alone for a long time," River swallowed back the sudden urge to cry. It came upon her sometimes, when she thought about the life her Doctor led, founded in a monumental loss that was continually perpetuated in a small way with every companion who came and then went while he remained as he was. "You're scared to take the risk."

"No, not scared," he denied forcefully. "Pragmatic! It makes no sense River. I'm a Time Lord. I don't get any older, I just change - and I have no idea how old I'll get before I finally run out of regenerations. What time I could spend with you or any human for that matter is so fleeting. Like a single drop of rain in a storm during a long winter – one tiny, tiny part of one season of an entire year. The time I'd spend living with what I've lost would be so much longer ... that's something I just can't bear."

"Yes, any human," River agree. "Perhaps you've forgotten something about me sweetie," she smiled coyly, waiting. "Penny in the air," she teased as she watched his brain shift into Time Lord gear.

"Oh," his brow rose. "Oh!" He looked at her with an awkward kind of smile. "Ooh!"

"Penny drops," her smile grew. "I may have given up the chance to swap this body in for another one but that doesn't make me human, not entirely. Timelord DNA, courtesy of the TARDIS. Haven't aged a day that I didn't want to."

"Just how old are you?" the Doctor eyes her suspiciously.

"A woman never reveals her age my love," she put seduction into her voice now. It wasn't their time to consummate what they had – he wasn't ready for that. She'd waited such a long time already, through the flirting that was never as serious as she wanted, through time shifting backwards and forwards and always forcing her away from him, through so many adventures where they'd been so close, grown to trust each other, but still mostly as light hearted friends. That didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun.

"Right," he scratched at his cheek in that nervous manner of his and she laughed.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" she shifted closer, deliberately invading his space.

"We're sitting in my bedroom and you're eyeing me like I'm a particularly tasty meal when you haven't eaten for a long time," the Doctor returned, shifting away. "Of course I'm nervous."

"I'm sure that if you kissed me again we could take care of that, quick smart," River proposed.

"I don't think that's a good idea," the Doctor jumped up from the bed, hands twisting in front of him as he eyed her like he expected her to pursue.

"Maybe not, but I bet you're feeling better now," River smiled, content to stay where she was and tease him with a seductive posture.

"Distractions, River," the Doctor sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "Fleeting and not particularly useful."

"So I ask again, what do you need?" River replied.

"Permission," the Doctor came to her this time, kneeling at her feet.

She looked down at him, this man, this amazing, wonderful man. She trusted him completely and yet she had to ask. "Permission to do what?"

"What you need but don't necessarily want. What I need … what I want," he replied. He looked up at her so imploringly that she found herself nodding.

"Do what you have to," she gave him that permission he sought.

"Thank you," he jumped up, taking her face between his hands and kissing her exuberantly. "If I'm very, very good you'll never know the difference."

"Then be very, very good," River ordered, stern now. "Because if you end up killing yourself over this, I'll find a way to hunt you down and haunt you forever. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," the Doctor agreed with a small smile.