Part Six
The Doctor, Rory, and Amy stayed with River for a few days. Amy and Rory had begged the Doctor to let them stay for a little while so they could catch up on their sleep and explore the planet from the future.
While Amy and Rory were out one afternoon, the second day they were there, the Doctor decided it was time to make amends with River, who hadn't been ignoring him, but hadn't been exactly warm with him either. He walked into the kitchen to see River busy preparing dinner. He hadn't expected her to be so domestic. "Can we talk?" he asked.
She looked up and brushed back the hair that had fallen into her face. She nodded before resuming what she'd been doing before. Whatever she was preparing for dinner looked relatively like something found on Earth during the 21st century. When he didn't say anything, she looked up at him again. "Did you want to say anything?" she asked.
He shook himself to alertness. "Ah, yes…"
"Well?"
"She's been okay, right? No withdrawals, no major issues?"
"Just a few colds, lots of sleepless nights, and plenty of work," River assured him.
"No indication that she's not adjusting properly to the Time Lord-Human components of her physiology?"
"None that I can account for," River replied as she tossed carrots, or what looked to be carrots, into a large pot that stood on the counter next to her.
He nodded absently and sat down at one of the tall chairs next to the counter. "I saw Donna the other day. She looked strangely content."
"She doesn't remember anything that would make her discontent with her life," River pointed out.
"I know… but when it happened before, Wilf, her grandfather, told me that she seemed sad, like she didn't know what was missing, but there was something missing."
"Maybe you did a better job at erasing her memories this time around?"
"I don't know. Maybe she was sent back to a better place this time. I mean, she's got a husband, a home, a job, money, no reason to be sad."
"Well, it sounds like she's moved on. Like you."
"I haven't moved on," he retorted.
"What, then, do you call running about the universe with two young, hip, happening, twenty-somethings?"
"They are company, nothing more. They're not a replacement for Donna."
"Right. Speaking of replacements… just as I'm not a replacement for Donna, I'm not your replacement either. You're going to have to care for your daughter at some point in her life."
"What have I missed?"
"Too much," River replied, with nothing more.
The silence could have been sliced a few ways like the veggies that River was cutting up. The Doctor disliked idleness. "Oh… in case anything ever happens to me, like I die or something, I need you to tell Emily something?"
"What's that?"
"My name."
"Why's that?"
"It is how we pass along our oral tradition. Through names and such. At some point, I'll need to get around to doing that."
"She's at your convenience in the nursery, why don't you just go tell her yourself?"
"No, no, no, no… it's a rite of passage thing. I can't tell her until she's of the right age."
"And what age might that be? 154?"
"It's actually 17."
"Well, I'll take note. What do I tell her?"
"I'll write it down for you in the journal."
"What journal?"
"The journal… the blue journal? The Spoilers book?"
"I know of no such thing," River replied.
"Really? It's never come into your hands?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Doctor."
"I'm sure I left it here with Emily when we came her the second time."
River's eyes brightened. "Oh! Donna's book," she exclaimed.
She put down the knife and wiped her hands off on a towel. "Let me go get it," she told him before hurrying off to another room of the house.
River returned with the book and thumbed to the next clean page. "Here," she said, handing it over to him with a smile. "Write the name."
And so he did.
Emily would be the first of his children to have this tradition passed along to her if she had a long, prosperous life without tumult, just as the Doctor anticipated for her.