Another one of those stories that have been saved half-cooked for ages and that I finally sat down and finished. And I'm glad I did because this turned out pretty much as I originally intended - which rarely ever happens.

Hugs and love to the marvellous noellefray for beta reading, you're a star!

I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters, I just borrowed them.

Hiding in the restroom was not something River Song usually did, but today, she allowed herself to make an exception. She couldn't go out there again like this, not when no one knew who she was grieving. Or rather, who the ones they were grieving had been to her.

Of course they didn't know. How could they? Neither Amy nor Rory had ever been able to bring themself to tell their parents the truth; not even Brian who had travelled with the Doctor that one time. River understood, she truly did. Breaking it to them at Demon's Run, that she was little Melody, and later Mels, that had been hard enough.

But just because she understood that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Didn't hurt to stand at her parents' memorial and pretend not to cry because it would attract unwanted attention.

Didn't hurt to pretend she didn't know her grandparents and have them look right through her because they didn't know who she was.

Didn't hurt to be alone, truly alone because her husband didn't like endings.

A sob fought it's way up her throat and she pressed her eyes shut, hands clutching the sink as she tried to choke back the tears.

She would have time to break down later. All the time in the universe to grieve her parents properly, she only had to keep it together a little longer, make it through the reception and then she could go home.

But it was to no avail. The tears just kept coming and trying to keep from sobbing just left her breathless.

She was River Song, for god's sake! Why could she not pull herself together just a few more minutes?

The answer was much simpler than she would have ever admitted. Right there, at her parents' memorial, she was not River Song but Melody Pond, a lonely little girl who had lost her parents. Again. And even if she was River Song, she had kept herself from breaking for so long, ever since the dreadful day they had lost Amy and Rory. Not a single tear, just pretending to be fine. Never let him see the damage - never let them, let anyone see it.

Suddenly there was a soothing hand on her back, gently rubbing circles on her shoulders and a familiar voice whispering calming words and only then did River realise that she had stopped breathing, must have been gasping for air.

'It's alright, dear, you're fine. Shh, it's alright, just breathe, in and out. Just like that, good, deep breath, in and out.'

River wasn't sure what it was, the words or the simple presence of someone next to her, or perhaps a combination of both but it miraculously worked and, sensing that she was not hyperventilating anymore, the woman took a step back.

Suddenly feeling more drained and tired than ever, River slumped back against the wall before finally looking up to meet Tabetha Ponds' eyes.

'Thank you,' she whispered, voice hoarse. Tabetha nodded but still eyed her warily, not sure what to make of the situation.

'Are...are you alright now?' She finally asked, managing to push back her own grieve for a moment to have her voice fill with concern for the stranger across from her. Because that's what River was, wasn't she? A stranger, even though she had known Tabetha for decades.

'Yes,' she finally managed to choke out, 'I'm fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - my condolences.'

Tabetha swallowed and nodded but she seemed unable to answer and River couldn't bear looking at her any longer. She just seemed so...sad and broken, very much like River herself felt. It was terrifying, what the loss of a loved one could do to someone and before she could shudder, she turned back to the mirror in a vain attempt to fix her makeup. Not that it would do much good but at least she wouldn't have to see Tabetha's worried, yet empty eyes any longer.

For a moment, silence settled over the two women and River could feel her grandmother watching her every movement.
When she spoke up again, River almost winced at the sound of her voice.

'I have never seen you before but you knew them well, didn't you? My daughter and her husband?'

Her nails almost pierced the skin in her palms at the painful question but by now, River had put enough of her self-control back in place to actually force out an answer.

'Yes. I...we, we just clicked. It always felt like we had known each other forever.'

'Where did you meet them? Did you work with A- my daughter?' Somehow, it was strangely soothing for River to know that she wasn't the only one who couldn't say her parents names. But that wasn't a thought she would ever voice aloud so instead, she slowly turned back around to Tabetha.

'No, we didn't work together,' she said slowly, unsure how much she could tell her grandmother. 'We met when we were all travelling, travelled together sometimes...they always let me stay over when I was in London.'

Despite the crooked smile River gave her, Tabetha's eyes had narrowed.

'You travelled with them?'

'Yes.' Usually, she would have tried to think of a lie, a more plausible, safe cover story but right now, River was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to come up with anything.

'You know...you know their friend, then? Their Doctor?' Tabetha asked and it was impossible to read on her face whether she wanted a positive or a negative answer. So River just nodded, just once, a quick and precise motion.

'I do know the Doctor.'

And suddenly, there was nothing but anger on Tabetha's face and it reminded her so much of Amy that River had to bite back another sob. Tabetha seemed wholly oblivious to her struggle as she took a step towards River, hands in her hips, eyes like thunder.

'Where is he? Tell me, where is he? He comes and takes away my little girl, promises to keep her safe and then he loses her anyway. And then he doesn't even have the decency to come to her memorial!'

Neither of them noticed the tears running down both their faces now, Tabetha still all fury and righteous anger with no one to direct it to, now channeling it at River, the one person who she could, in some capacity at least, blame. Perhaps, if she had known the full story, she wouldn't have done so but since she didn't know, all she saw was a stranger, flinching back at every single one of her words.

They cut through River's resolve like a whip through skin, painful, oh so painful and suddenly she saw Amy again, clutching her hand, crying as she blinked to be send back in time. It took her longer than she intended to shake off the memories and focus on the present, on fuming, grieving Tabetha. What could she tell her when every single one of her words was true? When there was only one thing she wanted more than her husband at her side in this moment too, no matter how hard it was for him?

'He doesn't like endings.' It's barely more than a whisper and there must have been something in her voice that was very, very wrong because as quick as it came, Tabetha's anger seems to dissipate again and she looks just as defeated as River.

'I'm sorry, I..I just…' She trailed off, not knowing how to apologise but River reached for her hand and gave it a soft, understanding squeeze - what else was there to do? Rubbing her forehead, Tabetha sighed deeply.

'They spoke so little about it, you know? Their travels with their Doctor. They never mentioned anyone else - just their Doctor. I don't even know your name.' She gave a bitter laugh and River had to bite her tongue to stop herself from joining in. Her parents had never once even mentioned her in any way.

'River. Professor River Song.'

At least she could try and keep her grandmother from hating her. She might not know who River was to her but River did and she was certain that she wouldn't be able to bear being loathed by the few members of her family that she had left. Even if they had no idea who she was.

'Im Tabetha Pond - but you probably know that already, don't you?' She shook her head and gave River another once over before apparently coming to a decision because she smiled sadly.

'Why don't you come along into the kitchen, dear? Most of the guests are gone and I think we could all do with a nice cup of tea.'

Just like River remembered it from her days as Mels, Tabetha didn't wait for an answer but turned around, expecting her to follow her into the kitchen. Which River did, despite knowing that she shouldn't - it would be torturous but then again, she had always had a tendency to run towards pain.

'You know, they never told us much about what they saw on their travels, never explained why either - they can't have travelled with him that much, can they? They had a life here, in London, with jobs and friends. Not that we ever really met any of them - not many of them came today either, it's a shame, really.' She sighed and River couldn't help the small smile from tugging at her lips: Tabetha Pond, always trying to fill the silence with chatter, a trait both her daughter and granddaughter had inherited.

They reached the kitchen and Tabetha motioned for River to sit down at the table while she put the kettle on and started preparing the promised tea.

'They had a friend, once. Mels,' Tabetha started suddenly and River flinched at the mention of her former name. Her grandmother didn't notice, focused on stirring their tea.

'She disappeared a few years ago, poor thing. No one knew what happened to her...I've always wondered but A- they never said if they knew.'

It was touching, to know that Tabetha had actually cared for her granddaughter, even if she had only known her as Mels, her daughter's best friend. And the most troublesome too. But still, she had been such a fixture in the Ponds' house during her childhood with Amy and Rory, that slowly, Mels had grown even on Tabetha.

Perhaps, River thought, perhaps she could at least relieve her of that worry.

'Mels died,' she said slowly once Tabetha had sat down and her grandmother's eyes widened in shock.

'How -'

'I was there,' River interrupted before she could finish asking her question. Technically, that wasn't a lie. She had been in Berlin, after all.

'Mels convinced them to take her on a trip, but then they crashed in 1938, right in Hitler's office. He shot her.'

'God…' The shock was obvious on Tabetha's face but she took the news much better than River had expected. After a moment of silence to let the thought of Mels' death sink in, she looked back up at River, eyes narrowed.

'You said you were there - where were you?'

'I...I met them, just after Mels was shot. Rory, he put Hitler in the cupboard just when I arrived and then, well, we made sure to get away as fast as possible.'

'What about Mels? A- my daughter must have been devastated, she was her best friend! And I...god, I had no idea - that's why she was so sad when they came back, wasn't it? The entire summer, she was so, so sad…' There was so much pain in Tabetha's voice and River's heart ached for her. All she could do was reach over to squeeze her hands, not nearly enough comfort in light of all the pain she knew she felt.

She got it a little wrong, thought that Mels had died when it was truly Demon's run that had pushed Amy into despair that summer but River wasn't about to correct her. What good would it do? Tabetha already blamed herself for not being there for her daughter when she had needed her, it wouldn't do anyone any good to tell her the truth. Besides, had Amy and Rory wanted them to know, they would have told their parents, wouldn't they? After all, they had still been hoping to get little Melody back all summer, would they have just shown up one day with a baby if she had told the Doctor where to find her?

It didn't make much sense to River but the decisions her parents had made back then still hurt. Just because she was a grown woman, a Professor and one of the most feared assassins in the universe, that didn't mean that things like this stung.

Once more, Tabetha's voice pulled her from her musings and River looked up.

'I'm sorry - you were saying?'

'I...I was just wondering if you were there then as well, River. I can call you River, right?' She nodded. 'I...he never said what exactly happened, their Doctor. Just that they had been sent back and that he couldn't bring them home. He said they were happy but...he never said what happened. Do you know? Were you there? You were.' The last bit wasn't a question, the pained expression on River's face all the answer Tabetha needed.

Deep breath. She could tell her grandmother about this. Had to. She owed her at least that much.

'There are creatures called 'The Weeping Angels'. When you look at them, they are just stone but when you turn away or even just blink...they are deadly. Well, they don't kill you, they sent you back in time like they did to…' Tabetha nodded, not trying to force her to say their names even though it must seem odd to her, a mere friend so hurt by their demise. 'It happened twice. At first, they landed in New York in 1939, they ran into me there. The Angles, they had a...well, project there, to collect a massive amount of time energy to feed on. To get back to the present, we created a paradox - something that is impossible, like...dying twice in the same night.'

Tabetha looked shocked and still confused so River took another deep breath to soldier on, to the most painful part.

'We thought the Angels were all gone then, everything was fine, we were even joking about a family outing - but there was another Angel that send Ro-Rory back and Amy, she...she…'

This time, it was Tabetha who squeezed her hands in silent support and when River opened her eyes again, her resolve was back in place - she just had to get it over with. Then she could leave, go back to Luna and cry until she had no more tears left. Maybe shoot something too.

'The Doctor, he begged her not to go, to stay but she knew that we wouldn't, couldn't have gone back to get him back. You see, the paradox that sent us back to the present, it was only the last of many, timelines in New York are scrambled and fragile to no end: Going back once more would rip reality apart, wipe New York off the planet, if not destroy half of America. She...I knew she wouldn't have been happy without him. They belong together.'

She looked up, straight into Tabetha's eyes. 'I told her to go.'

Tabetha reeled back as if River had slapped her but she ignored her, pressing on.

'I told her to go because if I hadn't, if she had stayed with the Doctor and me, she would have suffered trying to find a way to get him back. The Doctor, god, he was so angry at her, he would have done it, you know? He wanted to go back, to get them again, would have ripped New York right off the map if I had let him. Don't blame him, he...he is already suffering because they're gone, his Ponds, blame me. It's my fault.'

'And you aren't? Suffering?' The words were soft, kind almost, and River stared at Tabetha. She had expected anger, a slap perhaps, fury but not...compassion.

'I- I don't know who you were to them, but I can't hate you for what you did. Not when you are already doing it yourself, blaming yourself - you shouldn't, you know? I...I wish, god, how I wish my daughter was here, that I could hold her again, but I couldn't have watched her suffer. And you're right, you know? She would have suffered without her Rory, and if your Doctor destroyed New York for them, she would have hated herself for it. No.' She shook her head. 'I miss them, her, my little girl, but at least she was happy.'

'She was. They both were,' River said softly, meeting Tabetha's eyes again. 'I looked them up. You know Amelia Williams?'

'You mean the author?'

River nodded. 'It's Amy. They went by "Williams" in the past, thought it a bit more inconspicuous than "Pond". And however independant she was, no matter that the Doctor always called them "his Ponds" - she liked being Amelia Williams just as much.'

'How do you know all that?' Tabetha asked wide eyed, as if she couldn't quite believe what River was saying. She shrugged.

'I did some research after the Doctor dropped me off at Luna, I...I had to know that they'd been alright. And besides, someone needed to set them up in the past.'

'Set them up?'

'Oh, you know, bank account, papers, marriage certificate - the usual,' River answered, forcing herself to sound nonchalant about it. Once again, Tabetha found herself staring at her.

'You, you did that for them? But how? And why?'

'Someone had to do it and the Doctor doesn't think of human things like that. They were...they were very dear to me too, so I took care of it.'

'Thank you,' Tabetha whispered, the tears in her eyes not of grief but gratitude this time as she squeezed River's hands tightly. 'Thank you, for taking care of them.'

'Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way.' She couldn't add that it was a child's duty to look after their parents, even if said parents were younger than she had been in centuries, but she doubted that Tabetha could make sense of that. It would be giving her parent's secret away anyway.

'Still, you didn't have to - but tell me, Miss Song -'

'River.'

'Very well, River - how did you do it? Make sure they're alright, in the past?'

'Time travel.'

'Like the Doctor?'

'Not exactly, no. But close enough. I went back to 1898 and placed everything they needed with a bank, made sure the house was taken care of and sent a friend over from London to collect them when they arrived in 1939,' River explained, suddenly incredibly tired. Tabetha kept staring at her as if she was from outer space - which she sort of was, really - before she managed to collect herself enough to speak up again.

She didn't really acknowledge what River had just told her, it was too much still for her to wrap her head around. But Tabetha wasn't a fool and she had seen something in River's eyes when she had spoken, something she couldn't put her finger on but that felt awfully familiar. Whoever this woman was, she had known her daughter better than she herself had.

'And now?' Her words were soft and sad, yet River seemed to shrink back from her tearful glance.

'I know...I know you can't exactly talk to a lot of people about losing someone like you did,' River finally said, very slowly, weighing every word carefully, 'but there are some people, people who travelled with the Doctor, who've been through similar things. I can put you in touch, if you'd like.'

'I...I...no, I don't think so. Not now, not yet, it's too early,' Tabetha declined, though she was touched by the offer.

'Speaking of time-' River pulled her from her musings, 'I must dash - I have class in the morning and still marking to catch up on.' She wasn't about to tell her grandmother that she'd arrive on Friday evening so she'd have the entire weekend to come to terms with her parents being gone - meaning a good cry and probably some target practice. A glance at the clock made Tabetha gasp, they had been talking far longer than she'd realised.

'Of course,' she nodded and got up to collect their mugs. 'Is there anything else you need?'

'I'll be fine, don't you worry about me. Here.' River reached into her pocket and pulled out her card. 'Call me if you need anything.'

'Thank you, River. For everything,' Tabetha said when they reached the front door. She got a sad smile in return.

'Don't mention it. Take care.' Grandma.

By the time Tabetha had blinked once, she had disappeared.

Two days later, Augustus brought in a big, heavy letter with no sender, addressed to both of Tabetha. When she opened it, it revealed a thick file with a pink post-it on top.

'Thought you might like to have a look at all they did. They were amazing.'

They showed the file to Brian, all the pictures and articles about the grand things their children had done. But only after they cleared out their house in London did Tabetha realise the one mistake they had made.

River asked for the time and date she should arrive, still surprised that Tabetha would invite her to tea - she didn't even know her. It wasn't until she was seated between all three of her grandparents that they pushed two things towards her.

The one photograph of Amy and baby Melody, taken at Demon's run before everything went south. 'Amy and Melody', it said on the back, in Rory's scrawling script. Then Brian handed her the prayer leaf Lorna had given Amy, all those years ago far in the future, and River swallowed. She had no idea where they had found it, nor what conclusions they had drawn from it. But none of the three faces looking at her seemed angry, all just...curious. Warm, perhaps even loving.

'It's you, isn't it?' Augustus finally said and River's eyebrows flew up. 'That baby, Amy's baby. You're their daughter.'

'Yes.' There was no point in denying it - and oh, it felt so good to admit it, to no longer have to pretend. At least not as much, but then she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Brian. He gave her a smile.

'I don't know how or why or when, but you're our granddaughter. If you want, we would all like to get to know you.'

'You're family, after all,' Augustus added and Tabetha nodded in agreement.

'Our granddaughter, if you want to be.'

And for once, River burst into tears not for fear or grief but for love and relief and the sudden, incomparable lightness she suddenly felt. There was someone hugging her, someone patting her hair, someone holding her hand. For the first time since she could remember, River felt like having a family.

There would always be time for questions later. Right now, they would just make sure that they were all alright.

And River realised something she had never known before. When you held somebody who held you too, you kept each other strong. It didn't make things good. But it made them better.

The End

There are so many stories about River and Brian out there, I just had to contribute to the few about the Ponds and River!