Hi there. I just wanted to say before we get started that I do not hate River. Actually, she's one of my favorite characters. Unfortunately the role she needs to fill in this story won't paint her in the best light...

Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers. Enjoy!


Chapter 8: Toxic.

It really had all started with that first kiss.

No, not his first kiss in the library, although that probably had affected the situation he was in now in some way. Nor was it the kiss they shared on the steps of the grand Washington Library. Nor was it the many they shared in between those times, or the few they had afterwards.

When Matt really thought long and hard about it, it wasn't even the searing kiss they had shared in her flat tonight. No, this kiss was much simpler than that, much less…momentous. And yet, it could quite possibly be the single moment that had started this complicated mess he had gotten himself into.

He shouldn't have asked her to coffee. Matt should have resisted the urge to call her, as he had done countless times before, and called Jenny or David or Rose instead. He should have taken a walk, or curled up with a movie on his couch, or listened to one of his many CD's, or shut himself back up in his study and gotten back to work.

What he most certainly should not have done was taken up her suggestion for lunch later that week, or dinner the next, or that movie a few days afterwards. Matt shouldn't have gotten caught in this trap again, and he certainly shouldn't have taken River up on her offer of dinner at her flat.

But he did, and so here he was, in her home, a month after he had first contacted her.

His mind raced as he stared up at the ceiling, how could he find himself here again when he swore he was never coming back? How could he be here, in this flat, in this bed, when his heart still belonged to another?

Matt had sworn he would never allow River Song to manipulate him back into this situation ever again, and yet here he was.

Matt pulled an arm behind his head, and turned to look at her sleeping face. River had one hand on his bare chest, and the other tucked up under her pillow. Matt pursed his lips as he stared at her; she had always looked best while sleeping. The sight had always reminded him of why he fell for her in the first place.

He reached over to brush back a piece of her wild hair, and for a moment his fingers were met with a very different lock, one that was a dark brown and silky instead of curly and blond.

Matt clenched his fists and turned away from River. He could see her, in his head; he could see her every time they had touched. Every kiss, every whisper, had been a ghost of her. And if he were being completely honest with himself, Matt knew he wasn't truly happy in this bed with this woman. Not when all he wanted was to be with someone else. Not when he wanted those touches to come from a different set of hands, for those kisses to grace him from a different set of lips.

Not when he wanted for those eyes not to be a piercing blue-green, but a soft and rich chocolate brown, and most certainly not when the numb feeling that had begun to take root in his heart was spreading over his limbs like an anesthetic.

"That's it; in…and out," her voice whispered, her hand sliding around his middle.

But no, it wasn't her. It wasn't her hand and it wasn't her body pressed against his. And instead of the comfort he knew he should feel from her being curled around him, all Matt felt was a cold anxiety that shot through his veins with every heartbeat.

River Song wasn't his Clara.

She never could be.


One Month Previously…

Matt didn't know what the hell he was doing here.

He was sitting in the Timberyard, his hands tucked around a full steaming mug of coffee, waiting for River Song to show up. River Song.

What was he thinking?

Moreover, why had he suggested this place? This was their place—his and Clara's. Not River, he never should have invited her here. He never should have called her period, and yet here he sat.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, and took another sip of his drink. "What have you done now?"

It was at this exact moment that River decided to show up.

She stepped in, all high heels and leather, and shook out her blond curls. Matt could only stare as she scanned the crowd for him, and then let a feline smile curl around her lips when her sharp eyes finally settled on his booth.

He gulped, and tried to smile back as she sauntered over his way.

Matt could imagine what Clara would be thinking right now. She wouldn't have like the way River's eyes sparked when she saw Matt, she would've stiffened when River didn't bother with the seat across the table, but instead chose to plop herself down right next to him. Clara would have raised both eyebrows up to her hairline when she saw River give Matt a coy smile and a flirty nudge.

Oh yes, she would've hated this.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" River demanded after a second too long of silence between them.

Matt jumped. "Oh, um, yes…hi, River."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, that's certainly not the hello I would've envisioned."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well…"

River cocked her head, looking him over with curious eyes. Matt hated it when she would do this. She had always been far too good at reading people, and she seemed even better at it when she focused on him.

He remembered the days when he had loved that about her, when it was a private joke between the two of them. Matt would point someone out on the street and River would give him what she could observe, then the two of them would make up a backstory to laugh over. It was all a game, fun.

Until it wasn't.

Finally, her eyes caught on the silver band around his finger. She blinked, and stood. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She backed up to the seat across from him with a deep blush along her cheekbones. "I'm sorry Matt, I didn't realize."

He held up a hand. "No, it's okay, don't apologize. I forgot I had it on." Matt chuckled a bit and stared down at his hand. Should he take it off? Clara wasn't here, and it wasn't as though she was ever coming back.

The thought made him a little nauseous, and he chose to leave it on. Matt already felt like he was betraying her, he wasn't going to sacrifice anything more for this reunion.

The other ring around his neck suddenly felt heavier. It was her ring, warm against his chest, reminding him of why he was here.

Why was he here?

River studied him, her eyes just as intimidating as ever. "What happened to her?"

Matt jumped, looking up at her with wide eyes. "How do you know something's happened?"

She smirked. "Telling would be cheating."

Spoilers; the word popped into his head before he was able to stop it. But that was from another time, in a situation wholly different from the one he was in now.

He swallowed, twisting the ring around his finger. "She…she died."

River waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. After a moment she took the hint. Matt jumped again when he felt her warm hand on his. Part of him wanted to pull away, to snatch his hand out from hers and run out of here as fast as he could. And yet another part of him, a part that the rest of him screamed at to be quiet, wanted to turn his hand over and intertwine their fingers.

Matt held down the scream that threatened to tear him to shreds. He couldn't do this now; he couldn't show her the weakness inside of him. She wouldn't accept it.

He looked up, and was surprised to see that River's eyes had softened. "What was her name?"

Matt cleared his throat. "Clara. Clara Oswald."

She grinned at him. "I like it, Clara Smith."

Matt looked away when she corrected him. It was true, of course; Clara had chosen to change her last name when they were married. But to hear it, to hear that proof that she was part of him out loud nearly broke him into pieces; he wanted—needed to distance himself from her. If he didn't do that Matt wasn't sure he would survive.

That thought made him want to cry. He was supposed to want her to be part of him, wasn't he? He was supposed to be happy. With her. For the rest of their lives.

Where had it all gone wrong?

They sat in silence for a moment.

"So." River straightened up. "Tell me all about this Clara."

They spent most of the afternoon tucked inside of that coffee shop. River listened with sincere interest as Matt told her everything he could about Clara. He went through the story of how they met; glossing over many of the more personal details, keeping the fact that she was diagnosed with a mental illness to himself. He could see that River knew he wasn't telling her the whole story, but she never asked for more. That had always been the silent agreement between them, never to ask. It had probably been what ruined them, Matt knew, but in this moment he was grateful for the arrangement.

Finally, as the story wound down to its end, Matt quieted. The shop was still a bustle of activity around them, and he stared out at the crowd, waiting for River to say something.

"Matt," she said quietly, and waited until he looked at her. "Why did you call me?"

Matt opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat. He didn't know, that was the truth, he didn't know what had possessed him to call her. The woman he'd sworn never to see again.

"The last time I saw you, you swore we would never meet again," she whispered, and he could see the hurt still there in the back of her eyes. "You said that being with me was killing you; that you needed to be free."

You're the woman who kills me.

Matt looked down at his hands. "I did say that, didn't I?"

She snorted, and crossed her arms. "Do you ever feel like we keep meeting in the wrong order? I mean, look at us." She let out a bitter laugh. "I always feel like you're four steps ahead of me and I'm two behind. You keep growing and changing and looking towards your future, while I stay here, trapped by my past."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I follow."

River looked down at her hands. "Matt…John. I went back to Simeon, after you left."

Matt's eyes shot up to her. "What?"

She avoided his eyes. "I had nowhere left to go, and no one who would take me in. Even Amy wanted nothing to do with me! What was I supposed to do?"

"Not go back to him, that's for sure! River, what were you thinking?" Matt wasn't quite sure why it mattered to him anymore. He, as she said, had left. What happened to River after that day shouldn't concern him. Especially after what she had done to him, the lies and the secrets she had kept. He shouldn't care in the slightest that one of those secrets had recaptured her, in the end. He shouldn't be bothered by it at all.

And yet, he was.

River bit her lip. She could never appear weak if she tried, but right now Matt could see how vulnerable she was feeling. Or acting; it was always hard to determine what was genuine with River.

"I told you I would, if you left. I warned you." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He recoiled, stunned by her blunt statement. It was true, she had warned him of what would happen if he left her, but at the time he was finished allowing himself to feel guilty for her choices.

Matt growled, "Why do you do this, why do you always do this to me?" He scrubbed his face, avoiding her eyes as much as possible. "Don't I already feel enough guilt?" he mumbled, low enough so that River wouldn't be able to hear him.

"I know." River's tone had softened. "I'm sorry."

Matt clenched his jaw and shook his head. "Sorry doesn't mean anything when it comes from you."

Shock pulsed through River's eyes, followed by a twisted look of sadness, and then…did he just see guilt cross her face?

Matt wanted to shake his head again. River Song would never feel guilty for anything she did, no matter how horrible it may be.

"Will you never forgive me for that?" Her whisper was so quiet that Matt almost couldn't hear it over the noise of the café.

"Are you still with him?" Matt demanded.

She huffed. "You're avoiding the question."

"So are you."

River glared at him, and they stared each other down. This was their MO really: secrets, lies, argue, repeat.

He gave in first, sighing heavily and letting his head fall into his hands. "How could you expect me to?"

She swallowed, and grabbed her purse, but stopped. "I asked it before, and I'll ask it again. If you can't forgive me, Matt Smith, then why did you call me?"

Matt could only stare at her.

River closed her eyes and let out a weary breath before standing up. "I'm not, by the way. I left him a year ago. He was arrested by the American police."

She waited for him to say something, and when he didn't she turned to leave. Without thinking, Matt's hand flew up to grab her wrist. She stopped, and turned to stare at him with wide eyes. His grip was familiar to her, he knew, and it scared her.

He stamped down on the tiny part of him that liked that reaction, and pursed his lips. Finally, he allowed himself to slowly look up.

"I can't forgive you yet."

A tentative smile crossed her face, and she cautiously leaned down to give him a peck on his lips.

Maybe that was the moment when he lost it. Maybe it was that one, chaste kiss in the middle of a café full of people who were oblivious to them and each other. These clueless people who glanced at the couple, and quickly turned away out of some form of misguided politeness.

Matt really wished one of them would notice how afraid he felt.

River's smile widened when he didn't push her away, and he could see a hint of the triumph he knew all too well in the back of her eyes. She hesitantly stroked his cheek with the back of her fingertips and pulled away.

"Meet me for lunch sometime," she said.

He smirked, and let go of her wrist. "Call me." The words burned his mouth but he didn't take them back. He couldn't anyway, even if he wanted to.

Matt knew he was going to be sick now.

He watched her walk out of the shop, an extra sway in her hips as she pulled up her coat and ran back out into the rain. He could feel old memories being stirred up again; the familiar desire, the lust, the intrigue. He had only just spoken with River Song and already he was contemplating the idea of calling her up for lunch later that day.

That was his problem: Matt was a junkie, and River was his drug of choice. It wasn't healthy, and he knew it would never last. He would always end up being the one with scars in the end. For now, however, he was going to let it slide. He needed the promise of his next hit, after all.

He glanced around at the other tables, his eyes roving over the crowded shop until he settled on a young woman sitting alone by the window. Her hair was dark, maybe a shade or two off from Clara's, and she was clutching a mug of hot chocolate in one hand while furiously typing on her computer with the other.

She looked up, and Matt jumped. For just one instant he could have sworn it was her. There were the same elven features, the same dark brown eyes…

But then he blinked, and the vision was gone.

Matt hurriedly left a tip on his table and ran for the doors. He felt as though the walls were closing in on him, as if the other customers were pressed tightly against his body in an attempt to smother him. He needed to get out, he needed to be free, he needed…he needed…

He pulled out his mobile and dialed her number with shaking fingers.

Jenny answered after only the first ring. "Matt?"

"Are you busy today?" Matt could hear the same trembling in his voice, and fought hard to bring himself under control. This was not the place for an anxiety attack.

"I'm just getting off of work, where are you?" He heard the loud bang of a car door, and an engine starting up in the background.

"I'm by the Timberyard, on my way home."

He heard her let out a relieved sigh. "Okay, Matt, just stop. Stay where you are, alright? I'm coming to pick you up."

Matt nodded mutely, and hung up his phone. He was holding the device so tightly he could feel the plastic creaking beneath his fingers. He stuffed the device into his pocket and tucked himself under one of the eaves of the building. It was cold enough that he could see his breath, and he started to register the violent tremors coming from within his chest and working their way down his body, but he didn't care. The cold made him feel alive.

He heard the footsteps as they approached him, but he didn't bother to turn around. He assumed it was just another stranger trying to get out of the rain. It wasn't until the man spoke that Matt's whole body went rigid.

"John?" The voice was gruff, strained. It was almost as though the man couldn't quite believe who he had just spoken to.

No. Matt squeezed his eyes shut. No, no, just please. Don't let it be him, don't let it be him.

"Be brave," she whispered.

He slowly forced himself to turn around.

Paul's eyes were more watery than usual, and the dark circles made his face look like it was an unnatural shade of grey. His wet hair hung limply against his temples, and his whole body seemed to sag as he stood there—as if gravity was slowly causing him to melt.

"Be brave."

Matt's eyes were cold. "Paul."

His father opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "They told me you're married."

Matt flinched. "Was," he corrected in a hiss.

Paul blinked. "What happened?"

He stepped back. "Why do you care?"

His father looked hurt over the venom in Matt's tone, but unsurprised that his presence was unwelcome. "Because I'm your father."

Matt snarled, and was just barely able to keep his fist from connecting with Paul's jaw.

He clenched his fingers, and shoved the hand back into his pocket. "Don't ever say that again."

Paul's lips tightened into a firm line, and he took a small step away from Matt. Matt was glad for the space, he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep himself from punching Paul for much longer.

"Can I at least ask her name?"

Matt took in a breath to answer just as Jenny's car pulled up to the sidewalk. He snorted and glared at his father. "I have to go."

"Sure," Paul said with a defeated look in his eyes. "Take care, Matt."

Matt snorted and half ran for Jenny's car. "Yeah, sure."

Jenny sat staring at him with wide eyes as he shut the door. "Was that who I thought it was?"

"Yep, can we go?" Matt could feel his fingers shaking, the adrenaline only just now making its way through his system.

"Sure." Jenny put the car back into drive and pulled them out onto the road.

The farther they got away from the little coffee shop, the more Matt could feel himself relax. He rubbed at his face and sucked in a few deep breaths to try to slow his racing heart. He needed to calm down; he couldn't show Jenny just how bad he was. Matt needed to protect her from this.

"Do you want to tell me why he was there with you?" Jenny asked quietly, her eyes fixed on the road.

Matt let out a tired gust of air, and let his hands fall into his lap. "I didn't meet him there, he found me."

His sister nodded, but didn't look at him. "I'm sorry."

He glanced at her warily. "For?"

She swallowed, and pulled the car onto his street. "I tried to get over here the other day so I could give you your manuscript back. I'm sorry I wasn't able to." She handed him the stack of papers sitting on the dashboard.

Matt took it, but he knew that wasn't what she had meant to say. He wouldn't press her, he was too afraid of what she might say. Despite how caring Jenny was, she had never really had a great tragedy in her life. The Tyler's had adopted her when she was a young child, and she had never experienced a death in her life.

Well, not until after she met Clara.

It was due to this lack of knowledge that Jenny could sometimes be too forward when it came to grief and trauma. She didn't know when to back off.

Matt sighed, and crawled out of her car when they pulled up to his flat. "Thanks for the ride, Jen."

Her smile was hesitant. "Can I come in?"

He swallowed, but nodded. "Sure." He was the one who had called her, that meant he wanted to talk to her. Didn't it?

Didn't it? He wasn't sure anymore. He didn't know what it was that he wanted, not really.

"Do you want tea or anything?" Matt asked as they entered his apartment. "I think I've still got some jammie dodgers tucked away somewhere."

Jenny shook her head. "No, thank you."

Matt shrugged, and went to the cupboard in search of the cookies. "So how are things, Jenny?"

She let out a loud breath, "Oh, same old, same old, really. Dad told me he wants to celebrate your birthdays on time this year, and he really hopes you'll be there."

Matt froze, his hand hovering just above the box of jammie dodgers. "Do you mean at the house?"

"Sounds like it."

He grabbed the box and joined Jenny on the couch. "I don't really have anywhere else I need to be that day, do I?"

His sister bit her lip. "I think he was just worried about…"

"The anniversary," Matt finished. "I see."

They both sat in an awkward silence for a moment before Matt reached out for Jenny's hand.

"I'll be there," he promised.

She gave him a timid smile, and squeezed his hand. "I hope so."

The tension between them seemed to relax a bit when Matt pulled her into his side. Jenny tucked her head up against his neck, and they both took in a deep breath. He could hear how shaky the air coming out of her mouth was, and squeezed her shoulders.

"What is it?" he murmured.

Jenny gave a small shrug. "I miss you. I miss seeing you happy…and I miss her, probably more than you realize. We all do."

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and rubbed her arm. "I know; I know you do. I'm sorry; I know it hurt when I shut you all out."

She sat up to look at his face. "Why did you do that? We wanted to be there for you, especially mum. I think she misses you the most."

Matt shut his eyes tightly and willed away the image of Rose pleading with him to stay at their house the days before the funeral. He could still remember the hurt on her face when he had refused her, and he could still feel the stab of guilt for that decision.

He opened his eyes; Jenny was still waiting for an answer.

Matt pursed his lips. "Because…" He looked down at her confused face. Her blond hair was starting to fall out of its loose hairband, and the bags under her eyes seemed more prominent than usual. "I have to protect you," he admitted in a whisper.

Jenny's face contorted as understanding dawned on her. "That's what this is about?"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a shaky breath. "It's just…I can't impose on mum and dad's happiness, and…"

"And I'm too naïve to understand?" she finished in a tone that was surprisingly mature. She let out a huff. "Matt, I may have been adopted when I was young, but that doesn't mean I don't remember hard times. Just because I don't tell anyone about my past doesn't mean I don't have one."

Matt blinked, stunned at her reaction. Jenny smiled, and took his hand. "Listen to me when I say this. You are not imposing on anyone's happiness by needing us. This may not make sense, but we need you too. We need to see you feel sad so that we feel like we have permission to feel it too. You probably don't realize this, you being you, but Clara didn't just touch your life. She left a mark on all of us, and we're all struggling through this. Together."

Matt gave her hand another squeeze. "Thanks, Jen."

She smiled back, and kissed his cheek. "You're such an idiot."


Present Day…

He was an idiot, that was for sure. If there was any doubt about that fact at all, it was gone now.

Matt felt her stir beside him, and tried to shove down all the shouting in his head.

River smiled as she opened her eyes. "Good morning there."

He smiled back, although the action hurt him. "Hi."

"How long have you been awake?" Her voice was still hoarse from sleep, her hair a wild mess above her eyes.

He brushed a few strands away. "Not long." It was a lie, but he wasn't going to tell her about how he'd laid here all night thinking about what a mistake he was making. At the moment, the part of him that wanted to keep this mistake going overrode the rational part that wanted to run away as fast as he could.

She let out a small moan, and reached up to kiss him softly. He kissed her back, but pulled away as quickly as he could.

River smiled at him warmly. "What will you be up to today?"

He sighed, and wrapped his arms around her. "Well, I have to go to my parent's house to celebrate both mine and my dad's birthday. Ironically, we're born on the same day."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well that's…different. What are the chances of that happening?"

Matt shrugged, and sat up to get dressed. "What about you? What will you be doing?"

River let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, I dunno, a little of this, a little of that. Not much that's too terribly interesting, really."

Matt saw the hint for what it was, and gave in with a huff. "Do you want to come?"

Her smile brightened. "Most definitely."

To Matt's dismay, it didn't take them nearly as long to get to his parent's house as he had hoped it would. River had actually been faster at getting ready than he had, and even despite his efforts to drag out the time it would take to get there, they still managed to arrive within an hour.

Matt shut off the car engine, and sat in the seat with his keys in hand. Jenny was already here, and he could see smoke rising out of his parent's chimney.

His heart was pounding and his mind was frozen solid. How was he going to do this? His family had hated River the first time around, they absolutely despised her now. That and it had been, what, only a handful of months since Clara had…

"Are we going in?" River broke through his thoughts.

"Yeah." Matt grabbed the gift he had brought for David and climbed out of the car.

River hopped out of her side and skipped over to take Matt's hand. He gave it to her reluctantly, and allowed her to kiss his cheek, her own hastily wrapped gift in her free hand. It was a sculpture of an old 1950's police box she'd had lying around. A gift from Simeon, she had said.

That last bit had made anger bubble up in Matt's stomach, but he ignored it. The little porcelain figure really was very artfully crafted, and he knew it would serve as a nice peace offering between her and his family.

Matt's senses seemed to be on alert as they neared the front porch. He could smell the scent of wet leaves and the salty tang of the ocean wafting through the air, along with a small hint of something cooking inside. He could hear the three of them laughing over something. Every crunch of the dead leaves under his feet seemed to further add to the anxiety building in his stomach, urging on his already too fast heartbeat.

Out of everything, however, he was most acutely aware of the warm hand wrapped around his own. Of what the reaction to that sight would be.

He dropped River's hand and took a step away.

"I can't do this," he hissed. "I can't take you in there."

River blinked. "Why not?"

He blinked with surprise. "Why—oh…" He brought his hands together and pressed them against his forehead. "Because they hate you."

She continued to stare at him. "So?"

Matt's eyes shot up. "So, they also might not take the idea of me seeing you too kindly. Especially so soon after…" His throat closed up and he shut his mouth, pulling his lips together in a tight line.

River sighed and took a step closer to stroke his face with her fingertips. "Sweetie, listen to me. I don't care. I didn't care that they hated me last time, and I certainly don't care now. I get that you're scared, and I get that presenting me as your "significant other" isn't appropriate right now." Her lips curled around the words significant other with disgust. "If it makes you feel better, I'm here as your friend. Okay? Just a friend, that's all."

He shuddered, but nodded. "Alright."

Matt nodded, and pressed their foreheads together. "Okay."

She smiled, and kissed his cheek. "Besides, this is your life, Matt. They can't hold the final say over your decisions, you know that."

He let out a weary breath, and took her hand again. The two of them finished crossing the yard and stepped up onto the front porch. Matt could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he lifted a hand to ring the doorbell. Under normal circumstances he would just walk right in.

But these were anything but normal circumstances.

He heard footsteps running for the door, and felt the nervous flutter in his stomach when Jenny laughed at something David had said.

Matt held his breath as the lock turned, and kept his eyes set firmly forward as she opened the door with a wide smile that quickly faded.

River gave his sister a flirty wave, "Hey there, Jen. Remember me?"

Jenny's expression went cold. "River Song."