The first sunrise on Darillium after twenty-four years was met with festivals and parades and an old man standing alone in a house that smelled of a woman long gone.

She had left decades ago.

And he, well, he'd tried his best to do as she asked: he tried to just live. The university provided him a pass time of lecturing at the very least. The Doctor didn't mind the lectures, really. The lectures were just talking and talking is what he did best, even on bad days like today.

Today, was a little more than a bad day. Today marked the first century to pass after River's death. And today, for god knows what reason, the Doctor found himself standing in the little empty house by the Towers just hours (and decades) after a goodbye was said.

Nardole had recommended against it. You know the last time you tried this you were a mess for three years. Wouldn't come out of the TARDIS.

Thank you, Nardole, but the Doctor was perfectly capable of making this decision on his own. He was thousands of years old, he knew how to handle this, didn't he?

Except he didn't quite manage to puff up his chest and brave the Darrillium house like he hoped he would. Instead, he found himself sniffling in bed and hugging the sheets that still smelled of River.

Missy might laugh if she knew. Nardole would tsk, perhaps, and offer to make a cuppa. Bill… Bill would probably pat him on the back or give him a pep talk. Maybe even tell him to get off his arse and do something else.

None of them were here, though. Missy's situation was self-explanatory and the Doctor had refused Nardole's offer to accompany him. Bill was on vacation. School vacation, to be specific and she had insisted—demanded that she not be interpreted until the new semester started but would you mind dropping me off in California, the planes are expensive and bad for the environment.

He could skip this. He could walk right to the TARDIS and pick up Bill and travel somewhere a million times better than whatever California thought it could entrance Bill with. So why didn't he? Why was he here?

The Doctor wiped his face and got to his feet, taking a deep breath as he did. Why was he here?

The house was almost as it had been left, he had grabbed the keepsakes though. A few pictures missing on the walls, a few notebooks stowed in a box on the TARDIS. The rest was here, though. The bed was still messy. There were still leftovers in the fridge of River's terrible cooking. There was still River in this house. Her perfume bottle on her dresser, her clothes strewn on one of the chairs.

He sighed. Maybe it was time to clean up and sell this place. River had made his promise not to let it rot. He could hire a crew to pack everything, but he wasn't so sure about letting strangers touch River's things.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he slinked into the bathroom. Why was he here? Was it just to have a good cry or to mope? 'Moving on' wasn't an option, but surely there was no good reason to rip open old wounds.

The bathroom was nothing but the smells of River. She had a much more thorough hygiene routine than him, especially on the hair. All of her conditioners and lotions lined high shelves near the shower.

The Doctor's eyes watered and he pinched them shut for a second, only for his eyes to land on the waste bin by the sink when they opened again. Half full, there were the usual tissues and makeup wipes, but there was something else. Two something elses.

Caught in temporary curiosity, the Doctor peered into the bin to find two little plastic sticks—simple Earth devices to test for pregnancy. The Doctor held his breath and looked closer. He let it out when he saw a negative indicator.

Right. River must have thought she was pregnant, took a test, it was negative. No big deal right? So why didn't she say anything?

A noise from outside reminded the Doctor that the sun was up. If it had been positive, what was there to say? Their time was over and all it would do was hurt. He could understand the secrecy, he could understand if she was trying to spare him from more distress. He could understand but that didn't stop his heart from aching.

She hadn't said a word about it. She thought she was pregnant and she didn't say a word. After twenty-four years, he'd thought she'd learned a little more about communication than this. Instead, there were secrets and two pregnancy tests in the trash of a house left empty.

The Doctor sighed again. He could be angry, but he had no energy for it. There was no point. River was gone and all she left behind were memories and the smell of her hair conditioner. And two pregnancy tests with negative signs on them.

The Doctor stopped, his eyes widening slowly.

One pregnancy test with a negative sign on it.

And one with a positive.

-x-

"What's your name?"

The man must have thought she was asleep because the sound of her voice startled him so much that her dropped the syringe he was holding.

"Um, what? Wha… um," he scrambled to pick up what he dropped. "Who-me? Me. My name. Um, what's my name."

River let out a deep and slow sigh. "Yes, I didn't think it was a hard question."

"Er," the man cautiously stepped over to where River lay on the exam table, peering at her like she might bite at any moment. "R-Rafi. That's the short version."

River peered back at him without moving her head. "Are you afraid of me, Rafi?"

"No, um, No I'm not afraid of you."

"You sound very sure about that." It was sarcasm but said with a comforting tone. "What's in that needle?"

Rafi looked at the needle he'd picked up. It hadn't cracked, so the clear liquid in it was still contained. "Well, er, there isn't a name for it. We just made it."

"We?"

Rafi looked back at River with a shyness he had no right to have. "The team. My team. The, um, the team. On your case."

"So, I'm a case now, am I?"

"Yes! No… um…" he put the needle down on a nearby tray. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"Well, I'm not. Why is that, Rafi?" It wasn't a real question. Something in River's tone indicated she had already honed in on an answer.

"I, um, someone must have um..." he looked around the room as if someone might overhear, though it was only the two of them. "I lowered the anesthetic."

"I'm guessing, based on your skittishness, that that isn't allowed."

Rafi swallowed.

"So why," River continued slow and steady, "did you need to talk to me?"

His voice was quieter as he inched closer. "Complicated answer… do, um, do you have a name?"

"It's not in my case file?"

"No. They keep it very need to know."

"They?"

"Rassilon," Rafi whispered. "He calls you Professor Song, sometimes. We're not sure of what species you were before they, um, before they got you from the, er, wherever it was.

"The Library," River breathes. There something urgent in the man's eyes. He wanted to help but he didn't know how. "I was in the Library."

"What? The planet, you mean?"

"The planet's DataCore."

"Ah," Rafi said with some understanding. "A system of storage similar to our Matrix… you were in storage."

"You can say dead, you know. I was dead."

Rafi hesitated. "We don't consider it a full death. More of, um—"

"Purgatory?"

"I've never heard that word."

"It's a Human thing."

"Ah," Rafi made his noise of understanding once more. "You were human."

"Mostly. It's a bit complicated but I had some genetic experiments done with Gallifreyan DNA."

Rafi's face shifted as if something had clicked into place and not in a good way. "He called you the Hybrid once."

"Fitting." River closed her eyes for a moment. Her body felt heavy. She hadn't tried moving more than her head yet and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to. After a few more moments she opened her eyes. "River. My name is River Song."

"It's an honor to meet you, River Song."

"An honor?" This caught River's attention. It was easy to believe that anyone helping Rassilon on this "project" was full of mal intentions.

Rafi hesitated, "How much do you know of our history?"

"I like to think a fair amount. I did my dissertation on it."

"Then you know of the Night Song?"