Author's Note: Here's the next chapter, finally! I hope you enjoy it. I just want to quickly remind you that this is a very young version of River, as she's only been in Stormcage for a few months. Reviews are always welcome:)
The man in the bow tie was momentarily rendered paralyzed, as tiny beads of sweat trickled down his crinkled forehead, and his mouth gaped wide open. His hearts were thumping at an astronomical rate, and his soulful blue eyes were practically glued to the horrifying sight before him.
The Doctor did not even need to turn his head to get the sense that the pale, curly haired woman beside him had a familiar sensation of fear seeping through her bones.
It was obvious from her coarse breathing and rapid heartbeat that she was entangled in the same menacing dread that wracked his body nearly every day.
Sensing her agitation, he welded her frigid body against his and pulled her very close, all the while still completely fixated on the potential danger a front.
As he felt her quivering body rested upon his rumpled tweed jacket, the Doctor cautiously shifted one hand through her thick mop of curls and carefully maneuvered his frozen lips toward her ear, ever so softly whispering an important warning that would have been utterly inscrutable to anyone else.
"River, whatever you do…do…not…blink…"
The Doctor's broken whisper caused the pulse in River's neck to fluctuate madly. She remained steadfast in his strong arms and allowed the warmth of his body to seep into hers.
As much as the man in the bow tie feigned strength, the curly haired woman could tell from the wobbly motion of his arms that he was terribly afraid.
Twisting her head slightly, she briefly glimpsed the heinous silhouettes of several stone statues that were perched in a variety of alarming positions.
Though this was most certainly her first encounter with the despicable creatures, years of archaeological training caused their identity to become increasingly apparent.
This foreknowledge reminded River that the Weeping Angels were an extremely deadly race who murdered their victims by blasting them back to the past and preying on what would have been.
Even then, the curly haired woman deduced an infinitely greater amount about the stone aliens just by simply peering her eyes in the direction of the Doctor's constricted face.
"Doctor, what do we do? We can't just stand here, they'll surely kill us if we do that…" River muttered in a low, shaky voice, hoping to elicit a decent response from the perplexed man.
The Doctor, however, remained precisely in the same position, the only visible movement in his body being the dilation of his dark pupils.
The intense terror flickering in his eyes served only to escalate the curly haired woman's heartbeat to an even greater pace.
Though the man in the bow tie had vaguely heard the quiet inquiries of his shivering wife, he could not seem to muster the courage to so much as part his parched lips.
No, no, no…but how can they be here…What could they possibly be up to…Why do I have the strangest feeling that I'm missing something that's smack dab in front of me… As the Doctor pondered his dangerous predicament, a spontaneous impulse suddenly subdued his mind.
Glancing forward at the thickening fog and the darkened demonic shapes, the raggedy man clasped his wife's hand without any warning.
"Run!" The Doctor rasped rather loudly, before dashing in the opposite direction, the curly haired woman's fingers still lodged securely in his.
"Run, where, Sweetie?" River gasped, her terror-stricken eyes nearly bulging out.
"To the TARDIS, of course! Where else is there to go?" The man in the bow tie yelped, his blackened boots cascading hastily over the bumpy ground.
As a gust of pain ravaged River's throbbing legs, she felt her lungs stir within inflammation and her stomach lurch in agony.
With great effort, she managed to release a few, husky breaths.
Despite these physical ailments, she continued to fixate her mind upon the heavenly mental image of a shimmering blue box.
Even then, River found it impossible to ignore the soft, occult sounds that were just barely recognizable to her highly developed senses.
A rush of dreadful fear began to swell in her heart and her eyelids folded shut, as if to prepare for the end.
In one swift motion, the lurid body of the curly haired woman jerked to the ground, her pale face smothered in a mound of dirt.
Within seconds, River Song found it entirely too difficult to resist the tantalizing allure of the scathing darkness that was beginning to creep in.
When the Doctor's wide feet unexpectedly skidded to a halt, he watched in absolute horror, as his wife's crumpled figure sank to the ground.
Her lukewarm hand remained nestled in his and he attempted to cushion her fall, but to no avail.
He really had not meant to stop so abruptly and cause her to stumble in such a manner, but it seemed that in the midst of all the chaos he had accidentally tripped over a fallen tree root.
The sudden hiatus in movement had not seriously affected the resilient man in the bow tie, but it had unfortunately sent River flying.
Now, as the Doctor fingered the bare shoulders of his unconscious counterpart, he zipped his eyes closed, half expecting two malicious stone claws to snap his neck.
However, after enduring thirty seconds of utter silence, the shivering man finally allowed his blue irises to gaze upon the sight behind him.
Every gut instinct pulverizing his disheveled body seemed to prepare him for the inevitable.
Much to the Doctor's astonishment, what he would have supposed to be one of the deadliest beings imaginable, turned out to be nothing more than a dark, hazy mist.
Nothing? But surely they would have had us by now…
Closely examining his surroundings, the man in the bow tie glimpsed the blurry outlines of the terrifying creatures that had frightened him terribly just moments before, only to realize that the stone statues remained perched erectly in the exact same manner as they had been previously.
What…they haven't even moved at all…but…why…unless…
The musings of the raggedy man were momentarily shattered when his firm hand suddenly slipped down into a bundled mass of dirty blond curls.
The tingling sensation of warmth briskly reminded the Doctor of his current predicament.
"River! River, can you hear me?" the man in the bow tie muttered beneath his breath, his hands gently shaking River's frigid body back and forth.
His reddened ear approached his lips, and he could only sense a faint breeze of air drifting from her mouth.
Tilting her head back, the Doctor pondered his next move.
The last time he had found himself in such a troubling situation, his enigmatic wife had been faking, but, somehow, the slightly bluish tint to her skin was sickening evidence that River was genuinely impaired.
What the Doctor found most unbelievable about the woman's condition was that she had been rendered unconscious so easily.
The River Song he knew could escape the confines of a parasitic suit, and also manage to deliver the man she loved from the painful grip of death. For that reason, he found it difficult to truly believe that her condition could merely be attributed to his sudden halt in motion. Something dreadful was ravaging her body, and he was determined to ascertain the truth.
Though, for the time being, the raggedy man decided he must direct his attention to the immediate task at hand.
Because of his peculiar state of mind, the man in the floppy bow tie fiddled his arms about his face, as he always seemed inclined to do when in deep thought.
What am I supposed to do…her vitals are fading…come on, Doctor think…CPR…wait, I can't do that…I've never…but, I guess if Amy could do it…so can I…The Doctor concluded at last, before tilting the woman's smooth chin upward, and placing his lips carefully upon hers, two heavy breaths escaping wearily from his lungs.
Listening cautiously for a reasonable response, but not attaining one, the raggedy man continued on to the next procedure.
His hands folded upward, and he somewhat awkwardly rested them upon her chest, before pressing them softly up and down.
Leaning his ear back toward her unmoving lips, he settled his mouth upon them once again, his eyes bubbling with tears of desperation.
Just when he had nearly succumbed to defeat, River's chest suddenly lurched upward, and a sharp cough reverberated from her throat, until her breathing steadied.
A surge of heat pulsated through the Doctor's stiff body, as his curly haired companion brushed her lips against his.
Her recently aroused fingers dug through his ruffled frock of brown hair, deepening the embrace for them both, until she shifted her head back, as if remembering something unmistakably significant.
"Wait…Doctor…what about the Angels…what's happened…surely…" River's inquiry caused the redness in the Doctor's cheeks to fade instantly, as his jaw tightened.
"Look," the raggedy man motioned his wobbly finger toward the distant figures wafting in the darkness from afar.
The curly haired woman shifted her trembling body in an upright position, in order to attain a better view.
"That's rather strange. They haven't moved…but I thought…Doctor, why have you got that look on your face?" River spoke warily, her crystal eyes processing the implications of the Doctor's puzzling expression.
"Do you trust me, River Song?" The handsome man questioned innocently, his soulful blue eyes searching her face longingly.
"Always," the curly haired woman exclaimed confidently, her gaze never once faltering.
Taking her hand and pulling her to her feet, the raggedy man positioned his vision directly on his flustered wife.
"Are you sure…completely sure? Because I'm about to do something incredibly dangerous and mad…and assuming I don't get us both killed…we might very well be zapped back somewhere in history…no TARDIS, no nothing…though, in all honesty, it's far more likely that we'll be absolutely fine…because let's just say I may have a hunch…But, anyway, regardless of the outcome, are you willing to risk it?" the Doctor's tone sounded completely serious, until a devious smirk crinkled across his face.
"Anything for you, honey," River cooed, before they both embarked straight into the potentially corrosive domain of the notorious Weeping Angels.
However, what the curly haired woman seemed completely oblivious to, was the quiet, greenish flickering of a certain alien gadget, that served to illuminate the disgruntled forehead of the man who was nervously deducing the state of her frightful condition.
Note: I wasn't orginally going to end there, but I think it makes most sense that way. I have lots in store for this story and will definitely continue if I receive enough positive feedback. Remember that reviews are greatly appreciated!
P.S. If you're enjoying this story so far, you might enjoy some of my others, which are posted on my profile page.
Have a wonderful day!