Shadows of the Past - Chapter Thirty-Eight
Author: Milady Dragon
1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)
Central Core Room
The Library
The Doctor flatly refused to watch what was happening with his son and Phillip, in the upper levels of the Library.
He asked Cal if he could get the security feed anyway.
Bringing Merlin out of the Data Core had been simple, and afterward the Doctor had barely had a headache. The security sphere had shown Phillip arriving at the transport, but the Time Lord had looked away once his son was standing on his own.
The problem was, he just didn't have a place where his eyes could rest, so he ended up watching it anyway.
His hearts just about stopped when the feed went out.
It took every single bit of strength he had not to run up there and find out what had happened to Merlin and Phillip.
Instead, he paced.
He wasn't aware that he was wringing his hands for a solid five minutes, then he forced himself to stop.
Anything could be happening up there. There was only one reason the camera would stop, and he didn't need to ask Cal for confirmation. The sphere had been destroyed, and he just knew who'd done it.
Lucy and Ward had found them.
Back and forth he paced, the movement not even working off the sudden influx of excess energy that had flooded his system. Time Lords had a slightly different endocrine system than humans, but they still could get adrenaline rushes, and this was a major one.
He had to trust in them, that Merlin and Phillip would be able to get to the TARDIS and escape back to the computer core. He had faith that Phillip could handle Ward; the immortal had power, and a quick mind.
It was Merlin against Lucy that had the Doctor scared nearly out of his mind.
His son was powerful, there was no doubt about that. But Lucy had been building up her magic, augmenting it with the life force of all those dead Vashta Nerada, and she was mad to boot. Merlin had a solid core of moral strength that he'd inherited from his father, and the Doctor was a little worried that he might not be able to match her in ruthlessness.
In a way, it was a parallel to his relationship with the Master.
They'd been friends, once. Until the drums had driven the Master insane, and he'd left Gallifrey in order to wreak his own distinctive brand of chaos across time and space. In a way, the Master was the Doctor's opposite: Chaos versus Order, Death versus Life. The Master was the Doctor's nemesis, when they should have been brothers in loss.
His Tenth self hadn't understood that there were times when a person just couldn't be saved. This incarnation wasn't particularly bloodthirsty – he saved that for his First and Seventh personas, and that one he didn't mention – but even he realised that there had really not been a choice where the Master was concerned. It had been pointed out to him at the time that the Master would just eventually escape, and that would have meant he'd have to kill the Doctor to get his hands on the TARDIS.
Still, there were other ways in which to keep the Master from doing that.
But the dragons had always had strict forms of justice. The Doctor had known that, even back then, and there had been no way a dragon was going to let what the Master had done to his mate go without retribution.
This version of himself accepted that. However, it didn't mean he agreed with it. But he could certainly understand the reason behind it now.
He was taking yet another step when he was practically knocked off his feet by the strongest burst of magic the Doctor had ever felt.
The Time Lord himself didn't have any of that sort of power. Merlin had been the one to have gotten a full share, due to the very nature of his reincarnation and the effects of the vortex, in which he'd been born. River herself wasn't strictly human, although her parents were as baseline as they could possibly get…well, there was Rory's constant dying and resurrecting, but each and every one of those could be blamed on the timelines and not something within his genetic code.
Merlin himself was about three quarters Time Lord. He had the two hearts and the ability to regenerate that he'd gained from his father, and the instinct and curiosity of his mother. But it had been that single, reincarnated soul, exposed to the time vortex and a combination of genetics given him by his parents that had made him the greatest wizard the universe had ever seen.
But this was strong enough for him to have even felt it.
The Doctor landed flat on his arse, his head ringing in the aftereffects of the blast. Something terrible must have happened up in the Library, and he clambered to his feet, searching for his torch and needing to find out if his son and his friend were still alive.
He was stopped in his tracks by a flicker of something at the corner of his eye.
The Doctor had done his best to avoid looking toward the long-dead form of his wife, seated on the bench-like throne. He'd had to get close in order to gather the pieces of equipment he'd needed to bring Merlin back from the core, but that was as close as he'd gotten. He would be haunted by the straw-like texture of River's hair under his fingers; it tainted the memory of how it had felt during her life. Seeing her there, and remembering her the way she'd been the last time they'd been together – at the Singing Towers, their very last date – was jarring, and it was difficult for him to really deal with the presence of her death.
But now, he couldn't help but stare at her.
Tiny golden pinpoints of light fluttered around her like miniature fireflies, dancing as they stroked across her dried-out skin. Many of the sparks were flaring where they touched, and then sank out of sight within the withered flesh of her face and hands. More of them dipped out of sight into the environmental suit, as if needing to get to the body inside.
It was all he could do not to stand and storm forward to swipe the golden specks away from her, angry at the sacrilege of it all.
But he couldn't.
As the Doctor watched, still seated on the floor and in fascinated horror, River's skin began to fill out once more.
Magic.
It had to have been magic working on her, although what had caused it to focus on River he didn't know.
No, that wasn't right.
He did know.
It was Merlin.
It had to be his son, utilising the power that Lucy had been calling to herself, to aid in the resurrection of the Master. Instead of her using it, it was Merlin, and he was bringing his mother back to life.
The Doctor couldn't make up his mind if he was sickened or ecstatic.
Certainly, he wanted River back. The Doctor had had many loves in his life, but she was this regeneration's true love, and being without her was as if he was trying to function without a limb. He missed her more than he wanted to admit, and when he was honest with himself he knew he'd avoided their son since he'd sent River onto the Library, simply because he didn't want to be reminded of what he'd lost.
That loss had made him more of a coward than he usually was, and the Doctor didn't much like himself for it.
But it was dark magic. Something that Merlin shouldn't be using at all.
The magic swirled around her. The small hairs on the back of the Doctor's neck rose, and he knew the hairs on his arms would have been doing the same thing under the fabric of his shirt and coat. River's own hair, still pulled away from her face, blew about in the imaginary wind created by the power that was surrounding her, several strands whipping strongly against her face, the curls twisting into tangled shapes.
The finger he'd had to break to release the connectors from her dead grasp flexed and crackled as the bone knitted back together.
It wasn't long, but to the Doctor, even with his innate sense of time, it seemed to last forever before the last of the magic subsumed within River's now-restored body. She looked as if she was simply sleeping, and a part of the Doctor's mind gibbered and tried to convince him that kissing her would awaken her, as if this was some sort of fairy story of true love.
No, this wasn't any sort of fable.
This was real.
And his son was responsible.
River's chest rose once, and then again, as she began to breathe again after decades since her sacrifice.
A life for a life.
It was what Phillip had said, back when they'd met for the first time up on the Doctor Moon. Magic had rules, and one of those was that a life had to be given in order to create a life. Lucy had meant to use the life force she'd harvested from the Vashta Nerada to bring the Master back.
Instead, it looked as if Merlin had subverted that purpose, using the magic instead to resurrect his mother.
The ramifications of that were terrifying.
Eyes flickered open.
They were same, familiar green that the Doctor remembered so very well.
He remembered when Merlin had been born with blue eyes, and had laughed because neither he nor River had had that colour.
Those eyes darted around as River shifted her head. She winced. "Have I got a crick in the neck," she moaned, reaching up with a hand to give herself muscles a quick rub, only the collar of the environmental suit got in the way.
The Doctor could tell the exact moment when she realised where she was, and that she was alive.
Her eyes snapped to his, and she glared at him as if she could get right into his head and read his brain. "What have you done? Do you even realise?"
He held up his hands in surrender. "It wasn't me!"
"Like I'm supposed to believe that!"
Even when she was blaming him for bringing her back to life, the Doctor couldn't help but be glad to hear her yell at him once more. "Oh yeah, go ahead and think I was the one who brought you back! You might want to talk to our son about that, actually. Not that he exactly planned it, but I'm sure you can take that up with him when he gets back!"
Why yes, he did just throw his only son under the proverbial bus. But the Doctor felt there were extenuating circumstances and that Merlin would completely understand why he'd done it once he and Phillip got back with the TARDIS.
He didn't want to use the word, if.
The glaring got worse, if that was possible.
The Doctor scrambled to his feet. "Well, I wish it had been me to come up with some sort of plan to save you," he shouted defensively. "Because then I might have saved Merlin from the pain of knowing his mother sacrificed herself and he didn't even get to say goodbye!"
He remembered that day like it was a lurking shadow in his mind. Of feeling helpless while River had linked herself into the computer, and her words to him about not changing a single thing of the time she'd spent with him.
It had only been when he'd really gotten to know her that it hurt, realising that he'd watched her die before he'd loved her.
He'd almost taken the coward's way out then, and tried to force her away. The Doctor didn't want to get his hearts broken, especially with the certain knowledge that River had to have meant so very much to him if he'd given her his real name.
In the end, he couldn't. A part of him craved that closeness like a drug addict craved their next fix, and he'd had to have her by his side. Of course, he hadn't known about the having a son together thing, because that would have been far too much for him to bear on his soul for all those years.
Several expressions crossed River's face, and the Doctor tracked each and every one of them: shock, shame, anger, regret, and finally acceptance…and weren't those parts of the five stages of grief?
No, he reconsidered. They were something else entirely, and he couldn't tell what
The Doctor drooped. "I would have done anything to save you," he admitted. "And I think you know that."
River's movements were wobbly as she got up and stepped down from the bench she'd been seated on since her death. It was like watching someone trying to get used to walking again, and the Doctor met her halfway, reaching out to steady her, and then pull her into his arms.
She smelled of must and dirt, with the hint of her own unique pheromones peeking through…and it was glorious.
"I've missed you so much," he mumbled into her hair as he gripped her tightly, never wanting to let go again.
She held onto him just as tightly, a single sob escaping her chest before she asked, "How long?"
"Linearly, or for me?"
River laughed somewhat brokenly at the question. "How about linearly, because I get the feeling you've most likely forgotten what it's been in your own, personal timeline, knowing you as I do."
The Doctor wanted to feel insulted by that observation, but she was correct. His own timeline was so out of whack he really had no idea. Plus, it didn't help that she'd actually died before he'd even met her.
A part of him felt bad for not having kept an accurate count.
"One hundred and eight years, one month, two days, twelve hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds. Thirty-three…thirty-four…"
"Oh, stop it," she chided him gently. "You have absolutely nothing you need to prove to me."
They stayed like that for a little while longer, even past the point where the Doctor began to get a little twitchy from standing still. It was just so good to have her back, he wasn't about to let go that quickly.
Eventually, though, River pulled away. She was giving him a little bit of a stink-eye, and he automatically bristled at it. "What?"
"Just what are you and Merlin doing here? And what about the Vashta Nerada? Please tell me you didn't come here just to say hello because that would be so very dangerous…"
The Doctor was confused. "You mean Merlin didn't explain it to you already?"
River gave him a look that was part confusion, part Have you lost your mind while I was dead? "How would he have done that? I've been dead for one hundred and eight years, one month, two days…and please don't ask me the hour and second, I didn't keep track."
Oh, of course. This River hadn't spent that last over hundred years in the Data Core, and she hadn't been speaking with Merlin there. Her data ghost hadn't been reintegrated when she'd been brought back to life. Which made sense, really.
So, he explained. He began with Phillip's message on the psychic paper, and ending with the magic coming along and resurrecting her. River didn't say anything throughout the recitation, but he could see how she thought about each plot point as he touched on them.
He hadn't forgotten just how expressive her face was.
"Phillip actually thought our son had killed all those Vashta Nerada?" There was the outrage he'd noticed at that part of the story.
The Doctor flapped a hand negligently. "To be fair, he didn't know at that point that there was someone powerful enough out there to do the same thing."
"But our Merlin? Really?"
He didn't bother adding that he'd shot the idea down immediately. He didn't think he had to.
"And Merlin! Hiding an incredibly evil book in the midst of millions of books! I'm still not sure if I think that was a brilliant idea or an incredibly risky one."
The Doctor was of two minds about that, as well.
"I'm sure he gets that from me, by the way." She was actually proud of that fact.
Trust River to take responsibility for their son's more crazier tendencies. Like the Time Lord had never done anything like that in the entire time she'd known him.
"And neither of you thought to clue in the rest of the family about what was going on?"
"You know why we didn't."
River sighed. "Yes, I do. If Merlin had proved to be that unstable…" She didn't have to say the rest.
"Phillip called me in, thinking I might be able to mitigate any sort of damage Merlin would do. But it turned out that Merlin had been kidnapped as well."
He didn't add the possible torture part.
"And most likely tortured!" she exclaimed angrily.
It was often claimed that spouses particularly close to one another had the reputation of reading minds, but Professor River Song had it down to a fine art, and she wasn't even telepathic.
"I need a gun," she muttered darkly.
The Doctor knew exactly why she needed one.
"Phillip and Merlin will be here shortly," he tried to convince her. "Once they are, we can come up with a plan to stop Lucy and Ward from resurrecting the Master."
He knew that if he'd told her about the sudden loss of contact, she'd be out of the room like a shot, armed or unarmed. Well, it didn't help that he wanted to do the same thing, and while he wasn't usually one for much caution in this case getting lost up there in the Library wouldn't be a good thing at all.
"They were making for the TARDIS," he went on. "And we have time, now, because if what just happened is what I suspect then Lucy won't have the magic now to use to bring the Master back."
River crossed his arms. "Or Lucy could go after Merlin and Phillip and use them for the same purpose she'd intended for the Vashta Nerada."
"It's too dangerous to go after them," the Doctor shook his head. "We can't afford to get separated. Our son and Phillip know where we are; all we have to do is wait for the TARDIS to show up."
River gave him a look that was very easily read as, Who are you and what have you done with my husband?
That wasn't very fair. He couldn't help it if he didn't want her to step into danger so soon after getting her back. The Doctor had never once, in his entire lives, considered himself a sappy fool but this was skirting the edge. He'd never hear the end of it if River discovered that he was afraid she'd not come back again. The Vashta Nerada were still out there, as was Lucy and Ward, and he might have been a nit selfish about it but he wasn't ready to lose her again.
To be fair, he'd never really be ready for that.
He was saved from admitting his feelings by the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS' materialisation sequence.
"I see our son doesn't take the parking brake off either," River snarked.
The Doctor couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this relieved, honestly.
Although, he hadn't expected Jack to be the one to open the door.
"Well, it's about time you all showed up," River greeted them.
Wait…had she just winked at Jack?
And why would the Doctor feel jealous about that?
Because there really wasn't a reason. Jack was a taken being, and while he'd often flirt he would never make a move on anyone not a certain dragon. Jack Harkness had gone to one of the most promiscuous men in the universe to the most committed, and it really was a good look on him.
And what was Jack doing in the TARDIS, anyway?
The utter confusion on the immortal's face as he caught sight of River in all of her living glory wasn't all that attractive, though. Only a goldfish should look that gobsmacked.
"Mum!"
The exclamation was filled with shock, dismay, and sheer happiness.
The Doctor stepped back as Merlin practically threw himself out of the TARDIS and into his mother's arms.
And then he stepped forward, and embraced both his wife and son, glad to have his family back together once more.