Part Eight

It was Emily's second birthday when the Doctor returned to the cottage alone. Amy and Rory had moved up and on with their lives for the time being and it was best that the Doctor head on back to where he was meant to be. But first, he'd had to deal with a few unsightly pests before he could collapse onto the couch and spend a few hours talking to River, as he'd become accustomed to doing in these last few months.

It seemed like a longer trek than he'd imagined, from the TARDIS parking pad, that River insisted he park the TARDIS on, to the house. The Doctor was glad to finally be out of that sticky situation he had been in. There had been an attack of one-eyed, four-legged, flying-purple-people eaters, and he had to figure out how to stop their attack. He had also forgotten that the creatures existed, forgetting the origins of the song, and was just as surprised as most would be to know that they were out for revenge. Who knew?

He could hardly pilot the TARDIS fast enough back to the 51st century, back to River and Emily. The TARDIS wanted to get back to Emily as much as the Doctor, but it was possible to go only so fast through time and space and arrive at the accurate time and place. Both held faith in River's skills of caring for a child, but that didn't quell any of the concerns that came with leaving the baby while running away to gallivant about the universe.

The Doctor parked the TARDIS a few hundred meters away from the house in the designated area and nearly dashed across the lawn to the door. Knocking quickly, he felt the anxiety and anticipation build up in him. Why wasn't River answering the door as quickly as she could?

He knocked again, more rapidly and louder. River answered the door with a stern look on her face. "Look what you've done," she sighed with exhaustion.

Emily's cries could be heard from the other room. "Oh… sorry," he murmured as he walked in the door, past River, to get to Emily.

"It took ages to get her to go to sleep, and now she's awake again," River muttered as she followed him.

Upon entering the room, his heart sank as he saw his little girl with watery eyes and the most dismal disposition about her. For the briefest of moments, he saw flashes of Donna through her tears, stabbing his hearts with memories he had tried so fervently to suppress with filling every aspect of his life with Emily. To swipe these memories off of his brain, he lifted the toddler up and started to shush her as he walked around the room, trying to lull her to sleep.

He didn't notice when River left the room.

Twenty minutes upon returning to the cottage, Emily was asleep and the Doctor was about ready to fall asleep himself. He carefully exited the nursery, closing the door behind him, and strode down the hallway to where River's study was. He suspected that she would be in there, piecing together pieces of history for whatever project she was working on now.

"Sorry about that," he murmured as he walked into the room and took a seat in one of the oversized chairs.

River looked up from the book she was reading from and smiled weakly. "Don't worry about it. It's not the first time it's happened, and it's certainly not the last time it will happen. I've done it more times than I can count."

She went back to reading, occasionally scribbling down notes in a large, brown, leather bound book. "You're mulling something…" River muttered as she continued to take notes.

"Mulling what?" he asked her.

"I'm not the telepath."

"But how can you tell I'm mulling something if you're not a telepath?" he quizzed her.

"You've got that look on your face." She looked up at him and pointed at him. "That one."

He brought his hands up to his face to feel what she was talking about, and then dragged his fingers down his face, painting away the expression he wore. "She reminds me so much of Donna," he finally said quietly.

She blinked a few times and then draped a ribbon across the large book she was writing in to mark her place for when she closed it. As much as she understood the circumstances, there was still this nagging need for the Doctor and Emily to be hers. And yet, she was fully aware who owned the man and the baby that was suddenly growing up.

"You were telling me that you will see Donna again," River reminded him. "Jack said that Emmy would have a cure figured out for Donna."

"I know… I just wish I knew when I'll see her again, and she'll know who I am. I don't want to wait forever…"

River went back to working, trying not to focus too much on the fact that her emotions were getting the better of her. He was Donna's, and she was just keeping him for her until she was ready.

It truly was difficult being the keeper without actually getting to keep the thing being kept.

Damn those Appares Acwinians. Damn them and their monogamous ideals. Damn the Daleks too…

Maybe if life and time and fate were fair, everyone'd get what they want and be happy.