Disclaimer: All rights to the BBC.

I've returned! After three weeks away, you can expect somewhat regular updates. For those of you who have waited so long so patiently, thank you SO SO SO SO much. This song was suggested by 'Eryndil' and I'm sorry it has taken this long to upload. Anyway, here's a short-ish chapter to get me back into the groove.

Thanks as always for reading and PLEASE review to get me back into the writing spirits!

After the Storm-Mumford & Sons

And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
On my knees and out of luck,
I look up.

Night has always pushed up day,
You must know life to see decay,
But I won't rot, I won't rot.
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

River Song crouched on the ground, hands sifting through rubble and broken concrete, her deft fingers in pursuit of the small, strangled noises coming from below. There were voices down there; she could hear them; and they called out for a kind-hearted savior, an ordinary hero-perhaps a passer-by who had received few to none lacerations, scouring the wreckage in an attempt to give life another chance.

Those trapped did not see such a miracle, but merely a woman made to kill. A fairly bad creation, too, seeing as that specific woman was now trying to save lives. Had they known the intense irony of the situation, the amusement might have seeped through to hope. Instead, the knowledge lay wasted and alone.

River listened to the voices fade softer in a fluid, gradual decline as she worked hard at the debris. With her heart and hands set stern on their task, there was nothing that could distract her cause.

Suddenly, an honest hand lighted on the ghost of a woman, fingertips resting on shoulder-blade. River took a sharp intake of breath at the touch and turned quickly on the spot to beg and plead for the lives of those squirming beneath the rocks. The Doctor simply nodded in sad remorse, pressing his palm further into her back. Her shoulders leaned in to his touch but she continued to dig, her efforts now frail and mostly useless.

Collapsing in on herself to form a tight ball, River swayed her body back-and-forth to calm her pacing heart. No amount of desperate motion could appease it and River eventually broke into a flood of dry tears: her chest heaving and lip trembling, though cheeks as wet as a desert drought.

It was an awful sight to behold, her choking gasps, and the Doctor knelt down beside her as he positioned his mouth to surround her ear.

"There's nothing you can do, River. You have to let them go."

Lips quivering, she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. "How?"

Stunned into silence, he paused for a moment. If she had asked 'why' and for an explanation, well, he easily could have provided that. But to ask him how to live with guilt and heartache and regret; it was nearly impossible for him to feel as though he weren't enabling her to feel and validate those emotions. It was all much too complicated and complex, and though the Doctor often liked the intricacies of life, the random nature of emotions was one vista lost on him.

"You've got to try, River. We can try together."

"But Doctor," she said. "How can we leave them?"

It always surprised him when River had a hard time letting people go. It wasn't that he had an easy time with it, in fact it was quite the opposite, but over the years he had learned how to accept a loss and store the memory in your heart in respect; losing so many hadn't taught him nothing.

River's ease with a gun and both her expert ability and willingness to use it made it simple for him to forget River's discomfort with death. She shared a similar heart to his but was much younger, and each death that was nearly preventable was a challenge to her wits for a rescue. Though a sturdy challenger, River could not dissipate the impossible. He could, occasionally, those moments rare and highly cherished.

Not answering her, he continued. "We could stay a few moments longer, if you like." The Doctor hated to linger, but he respected River's need to mourn.

She stared off into space, not acknowledging his existence. "I'd like that. They'd like that."

She gazed into nothingness, allowing her soul to be consumed by heart-wrenching emotion that caused her fists to clench in pain. She let agony, misery, and acceptance wash over her in infallible waves that surged through every piece of her body. River held on to memory, imprints of quieted voices, remembrance acting as her way of mourning them in passing.

Slowly, she turned her head to face the Doctor's burdened eyes, sparkling weakly at her softened frame.

The Doctor held her eyes with his for a long time, reveling in the unspoken comfort and promises floating between them. He moved his fingers to cover hers and heaved her up alongside him. They stood, tall, taking in the surrounding debris and corpses. He kicked a rock lightly with his foot, watching as it rolled painstakingly tensely over coarse granite and small stones.

He took a breath and spoke. "We'll remember them, and that's how they survive. They'll be another story to us."

She let loose a small laugh, tightening her grip in his hand. She changed to interlock her fingers with his, relaxing slightly to the familiar pressure of his palm.

"Because that's what all we are, aren't we?" he said. "We're all stories in the end."

She smiled a small smile, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I'll remember this one."

He nodded, blinking slowly. "So will I."

She laughed again, squeezing his hand. "Come, my love. I think I have some room in my heart for some more. There's life in these old bones yet."