"This is Darillium?" she asked when they landed. "You've been promising to take me here for ages. It seems a little…well, less than scenic."
The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, viewing the flat grey expanse of space around them. "Oh, no, I parked a half-mile away—AGAIN. Come on, old girl," he whispered to the doorway of the TARDIS, "my lady's wearing heels."
The TARDIS promptly shut the door in his face, making River crack up. "Lovers' quarrel?"
"She'll forgive me later." He looked at River again, resplendent in the gold dress he had picked out for her, remembering how he'd seen a River from his future wearing it on her trip to Darillium. His future was now his present. Everything falling into place.
She put her hand on her hip. "Enjoying the view?"
"As always, Professor Song," he said, taking her hand and kissing it lightly, "you look very…cool."
"Cool? Are Rivers cool now?"
"Well, they don't beat fezzes yet."
"Then marry a fez," she laughed, pulling off her heels to walk. "Where to? Should I walk until I see them?"
"No! The Singing Towers of Darillium are not to be SEEN your first time here. They are to be heard." The Doctor loosened his bow tie from his neck and tied it around River's eyes.
"What—hey, you're going to ruin my makeup!" she said indignantly.
"Shut up." The Doctor looked at River again, eyes concealed by the bow tie blindfold that made her hair poof around the sides. "You look adorable."
River sighed, exasperated, while the Doctor continued to give his wife a good look. The golden dress shone brightly on her skin in the sunset of Darillium, giving her a brilliance as impossible to ignore as a sun. The light streamed through her bushy blonde hair and through her confused smile.
She was a star.
"Professor Song, I daresay you are the most extraordinary creature in the whole of creation."
"That's Mrs. Song to you, Doctor, and you happen to be right. I'd say the same for you, if I could see," she replied with a flirty smile.
I just can't believe I'm going to be losing you.
I have one night for the rest of my long life to get to know you really, River Song. One night is not enough.
Mrs. Song didn't expect the Doctor to shape his hand to her jaw and pull her in for an unforgiving and unrelenting kiss.
When she finally broke away for air, she steadied herself on his arms. "Human lungs, sweetie. Not all of us can manage a kiss that long. If you wanted to try the blindfold thing in the bedroom, you just had to ask."
The Doctor laughed and linked his arms with hers. "Come on, before I have to take you home. I want this night to last as long as possible."
"You're acting insane."
"Take out the 'acting' part and you've nailed my biography."
"I've nailed much more than that, as I recall. You're a loud one in the boudoir, not that anyone's surprised."
"How are those two thoughts even remotely connected?"
"They're not, really, I was just thinking about the echoes in the halls of the Impressionist Museum…" River shifted her feet uncomfortably on the grey ground as they walked toward the Towers. "I'm tired. Are we there yet?"
"Not even close—River, get off the ground! I know you didn't really faint."
"How do you know? You're not even a real doctor! I could be dead for all you know!"
The Doctor swallowed, not letting the joke hit too close to home, and picked River up bridal-style off the ground. "Stop fainting, you idiot, or no Towers for River."
"Do you have another bow tie on you? I have an idea for one…"
"STOP. I'm serious."
"I wonder if sounds can echo off the Towers. We can get really loud when things get going, can't we, sweetie?"
"I will drop you on the ground, right now."
She snuggled into the Doctor's shoulder. "No, you won't."
"No, I won't." The Doctor wasn't uncomfortable carrying River; on the contrary, he quite enjoyed getting to keep her close.
This couldn't be the end for them. They had so much to do. He had so much he wanted to tell her: how brilliant she was, how many secrets he had and how many he wanted to know of hers, how much he cared about her.
How she was an amazing companion, arguably one of the best. Arguably the best, for him.
How she made him feel…not so alone… Time Lords either felt too much or not enough at all, but there was no happy medium. He had always felt too much about everything, but this regeneration did an excellent job of hiding it. The Doctor felt alone and scared more than he cared to admit.
River Song made him feel as safe and as close to home as he could get; more than that, River made him feel whole and good. Like he was someone worth having in this universe. She didn't just love him, she believed in him and trusted him.
To be honest, the trust felt better than the love, and the belief felt better than the trust.
River loves me. She trusts me. She believes in me when no one else does, not even me.
And I believe in her, in every bit of her. I've seen how irreplaceable she is.
And I trust her now, with my name, with my life.
And I—
"What on Earth are you thinking about?" she asked with a little smile.
"Nothing."
She breathed in the Darillian air. "Doctor, Doctor, always thinking. My Doctor. You're being awfully different today. Am I allowed to know why?"
"Spoilers."
"I thought we were at the same point in our timestreams?"
"It doesn't mean I don't know things."
"Do you know things?"
"Spoilers."
"Stop using my word."
"I was the one who gave it to you."
"Because you got it from me."
"River Song, would it kill you to have a moment where we are just listening?"
"It might actually be the death of me."
"Not funny," he frowned. "Just think—or don't even think, just listen. There's a lot for us both to listen to."
River stayed silent for a moment, leaning in to the Doctor's chest. After a minute, she said, "I can hear your heartbeats. Can you hear mine?"
The Doctor swallowed, feeling the vibrations from River's chest leaning into his, letting the thrum of her vibrant life rattle him. "Yes."
She's alive, she's so very alive. Please, this can't be the end of her. She's so alive. I've never seen anything more bursting with life and potential. She could save the universe all on her own.
She doesn't even need to have me by her side, just let her live a long and full life without me, as long as she gets to live past this.
"Doctor!" she gasped, pushing herself out of his arms. "Doctor, can you hear it?"
He blinked; he'd been so wrapped up in her heartbeat that he didn't notice the song of the Towers.
The sound of Song's heartbeat was the perfect rhythm for the song of the Towers of Darillium. Of course.
River ran awkwardly with the blindfold over her eyes toward to sound, placing a hand on her chest as if to stop her heart from leaping out. "Oh, it's so beautiful. I can't bear it."
It was beautiful: it was the song of the entire universe. The ground hummed and rolled with the low strains of a distant harmony, and the sweetest sounds of the melody flew by and danced and died in perfect synchronization.
It was beautiful and perfect, cacophonous and loud, melancholy and violent, but utterly content.
To some people, the Towers might sounds faintly like one of the greatest symphonies ever composed, with soaring violins and crashing cymbals and pure voices lighter than the air itself. To River, it sounded exactly like what she felt for the Doctor.
She groped in her blindness for his hand, clutching it tightly. "Doctor—I—"
"I know. It's magnificent. Didn't I tell you it would be perfect? You don't have to see it to know it's perfect."
"You were right, as usual. Now shhhh," she whispered, swaying to the song and squeezing his hand. "I could stand here forever. With you."
"So could I. With you."
"No, you couldn't. You'd get bored."
"Bored with this?" he laughed. "You are mad."
"I know." River threw her shoes off to the side and picked up her skirt, switching weight from one foot to the other. Occasionally, she'd skip or jump.
And then River Song started to dance to the Towers of Darillium.
It was a sort of silly dance, out in the open, but somehow hypnotic. She twirled and let the skirt flare beneath her, smiling slightly and lifting her arms above her head. She waltzed and bobbed to the music, smile growing wider with complete freedom until she felt a pair of strong arms sweep around her waist and take the lead, pulling her around for a foxtrot around in a circle. She laughed breathlessly as she danced with the Doctor to the tune of the Towers, melting from a slow waltz into a ridiculous jive and a couple of Charlestons, ending in a deep dip where she pulled herself up and kissed the Doctor with as much strength as she could muster.
"There, you git," she grinned. "That's how much I love you." She leaned down into his chest for a slow dance, circling around with her arms on his shoulders.
They must have slow danced for at least an hour, drowning in the singing of the towers. River finally rested her head under his chin, reveling in the strength of his heartbeats and the soaring of the music, never wanting this precious night to end.
At least she'd have plenty of nights like this on her extended vacation. A whole future as the Doctor's true companion. What more could she ask for?
She felt something wet plop on her cheek, which she rubbed off. "Is it raining, Doctor?"
Two more drops hit her face.
"Please tell me you brought an umbrella," she smiled, turning to face him and placing a hand on his cheek when she noticed his entire face was wet.
She pulled off the bow tie and saw—the Doctor was crying.
Really crying. Silent tears ran continuously down his face, leaving his beautiful old eyes puffy and red. He looked a little bit like a lost and lonely child.
"Oh, my love!" River gasped, wiping away the tears. "It's not the Towers, is it?"
He shook his head, taking a shaky breath. He couldn't manage words.
"Sweetie—you know I love you, don't you?" she said encouragingly. "I do. I love you so, so much."
"River—" he choked, pulling his arms to his sides. "River, I can't—we don't have to talk about this."
"Please let me finish! I feel like we're always too busy running for our lives or deciphering some ancient message: just once, let me tell you how I feel before it's too late." She paused. "I love you, Doctor. I love you more than any woman in the universe has loved any other man. It's not because you're brilliant, or strong, or insanely clever, or so amazingly brave even when you know there's no hope. It's because I have never met someone who is so inherently good, so selfless and giving, whose entire life is devoted to saving races and things that need saving. You're not just a hero, you've made it your job to take care of other people. And yes, I do love you because you're brilliant and strong and clever and brave, but also because your heart is the most precious thing in the entire universe." She grinned. "Your hearts, I mean."
The Doctor covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the crying and looked away.
I can't handle this. I need to go. I need to run. I can't watch this.
I need to tell her. Spoilers, spoilers, spoilers… I can't tell her. It would ruin everything. She wouldn't want me to tell her.
River offered her hand to him, which he took, and she looked out to the Singing Towers themselves. The Towers were two tall, thin spires, vibrating a purple haze of sound almost like a tuning fork stuck in the ground. There was no one else around.
"A little anticlimactic, the view," she said. "I imagined they'd look a little more splendid."
"I imagine," he managed to say, "like a lot of things, they don't need looks to prove their value."
"You're one to talk," she giggled, looking down. The Doctor had handed her something. "What's this?"
"A sonic screwdriver. Well, mine, technically—my old one. I had the TARDIS make some modifications. It has a red setting now."
She smiled. "Can it open wood now?"
"Nope. Maybe one day."
"Why are you giving me your screwdriver?"
He shrugged, shaking off the last few tears. "I already have one. Figured you might need it. Who knows?"
"Who knows, indeed?" She turned it on and listened to the familiar ring of it. "I'll take it to the Library with me. It will remind me of you. It's going to be a long trip, from what I hear."
The Doctor gulped a few times. "River, there's something I want to say. Something…I'm afraid I'm going to be too afraid to say ever again."
He wasn't going to tell her about her death. Time would take care of the news he didn't have the strength to tell her. But there was something he could admit…something he'd felt for her for a long time now.
No one knew better than a Time Lord the power of words. These words were ones that he'd barely ever said before, or at least meant. They were precious, precious words, ones he only said once in maybe a thousand years. But they were true, even if it might take more strength than he'd ever needed before just to say them.
"River Song," he repeated, "I think you need to know—you have to know by now, you daft lady—that I— the way I feel about you—" He paused. "I'm having trouble saying it."
River blinked, thinking about what he was trying to say. "It's not something you say very often, is it?"
"No, it is most definitely not."
"Then, my love," she said, taking both his hands and standing very close, "I already know."
"You don't want me to say it out loud?"
"You don't have to. I've known for a while." She smiled wide and hugged him excitedly. "You really do? You're not just saying it?"
He smiled back into her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her ridiculous hair and feeling content at last with his last night with his wife. "I do mean it. I do…"