Your Child Will Always Come Home to You

"It's me. I'm Melody. I'm your daughter."

"You're—?" Amy looked between River and the cloth in her hand, trying to make it fit together in her head. River Song was Melody Pond was her daughter all grown up, and it didn't make sense but it did somehow, and yet part of her desperately wanted not to believe it. Her eyes stung with fresh tears, and her hands shook, and the prayer leaf might have fallen to the floor if River hadn't caught it as she placed her hands over Amy's, holding them lightly.

"It's going to be all right," she said, looking into Amy's eyes. "Trust me. It's going to be all right. Just hold on."

"River—" She choked on a sob. Burning tears ran down her cheeks, and it seemed to her that the only things anchoring her to the world now were River's hands around her own and Rory's firm and steady grip on her shoulder. She couldn't believe this. She didn't want to believe this. The Doctor had said he was going to find her, but for a moment Amy doubted that he ever would. If Melody was River—then how did River end up in the future, in prison? Would they get to raise her? Would they get to be her parents at all? Or was this all that was left?

"River," Rory said. "I—you're not lying to us?" He sounded uncertain, off-balance. "This isn't some kind of—I don't know, a trick or something?"

River shifted her gaze to Rory. "I would never do that you," she said. "Never."

And Amy believed her. She sobbed again, and suddenly River was hugging her tightly, letting Amy cry into her shoulder as she stroked her hair and whispered over and over again, "It's all right."

It wasn't all right, of course. Everything about this was wrong, Amy thought. It felt as though their roles had been reversed, as though River was the mother and Amy the daughter. It should have been the other way around. But Amy couldn't make herself be strong now, as much as she wanted to. And maybe it was all right, though it didn't feel that way.

Her tears subsided, and she pulled away from River, wiping her eyes with shaking hands, trying to collect herself. She clutched the prayer leaf in her hand tightly. "Sorry," she said. "Sorry, I just..."

"It's all right," River said again.

Amy smiled sadly, then hugged River quickly, kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you," she said.

"Not at all."

Amy watched and Rory and River embraced, Rory looking awkward and uncertain still while River just closed her eyes and smiled. She kissed him on the cheek as they parted. "It's okay," she told him.

"Yeah. Just... trying to get used to it."

"You will. Now then, I need to get them home first," she said, nodding at Vastra and Jenny, who had been watching the whole proceedings from a distance. "I'll be right back."

Vastra bid them both goodbye with a rather formal handshake. "You've been very strong, both of you," she said. "I wish you the very best."

Jenny shook Rory's hand as well, but gave Amy a quick hug. "It'll be all right, Amy, just like she says."

"Thank you," Amy whispered.

River took a moment to explain the vortex manipulator to both of them, and then they were gone in a flash, and Amy and Rory were alone with the dead and the Doctor's cot. Amy leaned into Rory, clutching the prayer leaf in her hands like a lifeline.

Rory put his arm around her waist. "You all right?"

"No. I—I almost don't want—"

"You don't want her?"

"No, no." Amy shook her head and turned so she could look into his eyes. "I wish it wasn't true. I wish—I don't know. I don't know. I just want Melody back. I just—" Tears rose in her eyes again, and her hand tangled with Rory's as she reached up to wipe them away. She let him do it, her hand dropping to his shoulder.

"The Doctor'll find her," he said. "He promised he would."

"But what if he doesn't?"

Rory was about to answer, but then there was a snap of static and a flash of light, and River was standing a few feet away from them. "All right," she said, flipping a panel up on the vortex manipulator and hitting a few buttons. "Are you ready to go?"

They arrived with a flash and a sickening lurch. Amy stumbled into Rory's side and Rory caught her; only River managed to remain completely upright. They were standing in the middle of their sitting room back in Leadworth. Sunshine streamed through the windows, and for a moment Rory felt completely and utterly out of place.

"Sorry about that," River said, putting an arm around Amy, who was clutching at her stomach. "Vortex travel is a bit unpleasant if you're not used to it. You all right?"

"'m fine," Amy managed, making her way over to the couch and sitting down. "Fine." Rory kept a hand on her shoulder, but River stepped away.

"I'll go and make some tea, shall I?" she asked, glancing between them. She didn't wait for an answer, but stepped around the corner into the kitchen. Rory didn't even bother to ask how she knew where the tea and kettle were. She'd probably been here before.

"I'm gonna go get out of these clothes," he said. "I—are you going to be all right?"

Amy nodded, but she didn't look at him. She was staring straight ahead at the television, almost not blinking. Rory didn't know what to say. He squeezed her shoulder, then left, turning down the corridor to their bedroom.

He shoved the sword and armor into a corner of their closet, changing into a plain shirt and trousers instead. He caught sight of himself in the mirror above their dresser. He looked almost normal again, he thought, but he didn't feel that way. He felt... he wasn't sure.

It was almost as though it had all been for nothing. The search and everything that had come of it, the long fight to get Amy and the baby back—and for nothing. They had saved Amy, it was true, and Rory knew he wouldn't trade that for anything, even baby Melody. But they had done so much, done so many things to get them both back, that now even half a victory seemed hollow.

He shook his head and started back down the corridor. All he could do was make the best of what was happening now. They hadn't lost Melody forever. She was here now, and she was River, but she was still their daughter, as mad and impossible as it was. And he had to be there for Amy now if nothing else.

Amy hadn't moved from the couch when he got back to the sitting room. He sat down next to her and put a hand on her knee. She blinked then, and looked down at his hand before putting hers over it.

"Are you all right?" he asked, taking her hand in his.

Amy blinked again, then nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Amy..."

"I'm fine," she said again. "It's fine."

She was lying. And he knew he'd be lying if he said he felt fine. But he didn't know what else to say, either, and so he held her hand. It was the only thing he could do for her now, but hopefully it was enough.

River returned a few minutes later with three mugs of tea. She settled into the armchair near the sofa, her hands clasped around her mug, one of the heavy, slightly chipped ones that Amy had brought from home. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked quietly.

"No," Rory replied, taking a sip of his tea. She'd made it the way he always took it, no sugar with just a little bit of milk. "I think—I don't know. Thank you, I guess."

"It's no trouble." River sipped her tea and leaned forward to place it on the coffee table. "Not for you."

"How is this okay?" Amy snapped. She pulled her hand out of Rory's and turned to River. "How is this supposed to be okay? I—you're our daughter, but—how does that work? How—I had her! I was holding her and—how can you be her? How can you—" She sobbed, burying her face in her hands for a moment, and Rory had an arm around her at once. "How is this okay?" she said, crying. "How?"

River said nothing for several minutes, and Rory found himself glancing between her and Amy, trying and failing to find something to say. The same thoughts had been running through his mind since River had told them the truth.

"I can't tell you everything," River said sadly. "Not yet. But it will be all right. It will."

"How, though?" Amy asked again. Tears flowed freely down her face now, and Rory took her hand again and squeezed it. "How are we supposed to—" Her voice broke again, and she leaned into Rory's chest, sobbing, and he held her and he could feel the tears rising in his eyes and he glanced at River and she was crying, too.

"It'll be all right," she said. "Not—not at first, but it will be. And I'll be here. If you ever need me, I'll come, I promise."

Amy looked up from Rory's chest, her face streaked with tears. "Will you?" she said darkly.

Rory knew why she asked. The Doctor had promised her he would be right back, and then twelve years had passed, followed by two more before he returned for good. And so many people had promised Amy when they were kids, promised they would be back soon, promised that they would remember. Every promise had been broken and Amy would never forget it.

But River set her mug down on the table and crossed the space between them, kneeling in front of Amy. Tears ran slowly from her eyes, and she placed her hand over Amy and Rory's and looked into Amy's eyes.

"I would never forget about you," she said, her voice shaking. She smiled. "You're my mum."

And then Amy sobbed again, and she leaned forward and hugged River, and River hugged her and hugged Rory, and they all were crying together, and they were a family.