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Probably goes without saying, but this story is linear only for River… which means that it is not for the Doctor and the Ponds she encounters. Timey-wimey indeed…

Chapter 3: the truth is out there

She regretted sometimes that the Doctor knew her as well as he did. Because if he had been someone else -anyone else- he might have been taken in by her smiling façade. Her false enthusiasm when he showed up at Stormcage every night, whisking her away to amazing and spectacular sights. Oh, she loved each place, loved the adventures… but the knowledge that she had said goodbye to Amy and Rory, could never go back and visit in the TARDIS… Foreknowledge had never felt so weighty, and she felt her parents' fate sitting upon her at every turn, preying upon her mind and destroying the thrill she should have had in each new experience.

And worst of all, she could tell that he knew that. It was as though he could read in her eyes that there was something wrong she wasn't telling him. A misery she couldn't forget.

"I was thinking of a special trip tonight," he said, giving her a careful, sidelong look as she prowled the console room, sunken into a perpetual bad mood. "Special people I think you'll like seeing."

"Do these at least have the right number of limbs?" She could hear the forlorn whinging in her voice, but couldn't bring herself to care. "I don't want to make judgements; but it seemed wrong on the colony of Jeysre for humans to have seven arms. I don't think evolution meant for that to happen."

"Mostly 21st century human, these people," the Doctor said grinning, as the ship ground to a shuddering halt and he danced over to open the doors. "Two arms and two legs each, non-swappable heads, and everything right where they ought to be. You'll love this, River."

He flung the doors open, but as she made to follow him, the voices outside stopped her. Familiar voices, heard for the last time in old New York.

"Raggedy Man! On my flowers, again?"

"Provides a soft landing, Pond. Rory the Roman! Permission?"

"Oh… go ahead."

It was a young Doctor who had come for her tonight, a young Doctor who obviously hadn't done New York, didn't know yet what she did. And therefore, couldn't understand why she wouldn't want to face them. Why she couldn't force herself to walk out and see them and pretend that everything was alright…

"I've brought you a surprise," River heard her husband say gleefully. "Come on, no hiding." He tugged at her hand, prying her fingers from the death grip she had on the TARDIS doors to haul her outside.

Amy stood before her, fiercely red haired, not a single strand of silver in sight. And young, so very very young; but in the same pale green dress she'd been wearing the last time she'd seen her. River blinked, hard. Amy Pond then and Amy Pond now wavered in her mind, overlapping but not solidifying into one image. There was a disconnect, a hitch that separated one from the other.

"Hello, Amy," she mumbled, feeling awkward.

"What's this 'Amy' business? We are not such a modern family that you call your old Mum by her first name!"

She tried to smile, feeling her cheeks might crack from the effort. "Hello, Mum," she managed. "Hello, Dad."

"Once more," Rory said, giving her a quick hug before relinquishing her to Amy. "Say it again, but with even less enthusiasm this time."

"He's right," Amy grumbled, looking a little hurt. "You sound like you don't even want to be here…"

I don't, was her immediate thought. She bit her lip to prevent the words coming out. The last time I saw you, I was aware that I could never come visit you in the TARDIS again; but I couldn't have anticipated the times I see you in your past.

Sometimes, time travel gave her a headache.

"I do," she lied, hoping she sounded convincing. The smiles from Amy and Rory told her that they were buying it; but the Doctor hung back, forehead creased as he watched her. "I was just a bit surprised is all. Seeing you! The Doctor didn't tell me…"

"Well, come in." Amy opened the door, ushering them inside. "You're in time for tea. Rory cooked-"

"It's safer that way," Rory mumbled. "Amy in the kitchen…"

"Oi, you! Shut up in front of our daughter!"

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Rory cooked; Sunday roast and veg. I made the pudding, which is after all the best part of any meal. And yes, Doctor, there are fish fingers for you…"

The Doctor let the Ponds walk in front of them, before grabbing River by the elbow, leaning in to her. "Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear. "I thought it would be a nice surprise for you; they always like seeing you, and they're your parents… I thought you'd be happy."

"I am," she lied. "I like seeing them too."

But she should have known, it was no good lying to him. He might be a younger Doctor than the ones she'd been seeing the last few days; but youth was relative, and he still knew her far better than she knew him.

"Alright, I'm not. Can I ask you something?" He nodded. "If you knew that something was wrong in the future; would you change it?"

"Don't I always?" He gave her a sly smile, a little wink.

"Do you?"

"Well… I try," he said, ducking his head down with a modest blush. "I always try. Except when I can't."

"Fixed points?"

"Exactly."

"What about paradoxes?"

"Them too."

"And if the people involved tell you not to change anything?"

"Would it surprise you," he tapped her nose, grinning like a child, "that sometimes I can be a bit… ahh… selective about listening to arguments like that?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Doctor, there's something that I found out-"

"This sounds," he said suddenly, turning serious as he raked a hand through his hair, "like a spoilers region, River. Have to be very careful with foreknowledge… you know that."

She made a face at him, but couldn't fault the mildness of his reprimand.

"Fine," she said tartly. "I'll be careful. I don't know everything anyway; they were careful not to tell me details. But; if I were to know that something is going to happen, and that it's impossible to fix -for many reasons- but is supposed to be full of fixed points and paradoxes and will result in a lot of loss… what would you do, if you knew something like that? About someone you love?"

There was a dark expression on his face all of a sudden, sad and ugly as he looked at her and through her all at the same time. He reached out to stroke his hand over her hair, twisting curls around his fingers.

"I suppose I'd still try to find a way," he answered quietly. Soberly. Like his mind was somewhere else.

"And if you still couldn't? Or if the people involved tell you not to change anything… if they say they want things to happen as they will?" If possible, the look on his face darkened even further.

"Then even if it kills me, I'd have to accept it." He sighed heavily, holding her arm to lead her into the kitchen. "Sometimes you can't change the future, River. You make the best choices available, but what is meant to happen is always going to."

She'd hoped he would have some words of wisdom, some magical fix-it cure. But even as she'd wished for it; she knew it didn't exist. In some ways they were alike, the two of them. Fighting against the things that could be changed. But for this… he wouldn't be able to change things, and maybe she really couldn't either. She would never be able to fix them properly… and as she walked into the kitchen with her young, smiling family, it killed her a little bit inside to know that whenever that time came in New York, that time when her parents would choose to leave… she would just have to accept the loss of the Ponds. Apparently.

It was the normal family meal she'd always dreamed of; and she was too on edge to enjoy it. Rory serving up roast beef and gravy, winking as he placed carrots on the side of her plate into the shape of a smiley face. And Amy, bubbling over with excitement as she told them about her new job. They'd asked her to write an article for a magazine she'd modelled for; and she'd decided to write about travelling.

"I could take you someplace good," the Doctor said, thoughtfully swirling a fish finger through the custard on his plate. "Ever been to New York?"

"No!" River burst out. They all turned to watch her, surprised, and she hastily shrugged. "I just think someplace closer might be nice."

"She's right," Rory said, face screwed up in disgust as he watched the Doctor sucking custard off the fish finger with obvious relish. "They recommended Majorca. And we might have to travel by the normal channels; you know, a plane."

"Even though they're so overrated," Amy giggled. "I could always just make up the plane ride part…"

She breathed a sigh of relief, only half listening to the rest of the conversation as she helped Amy do the washing up, smiling indulgently as the Doctor dragged Rory into the garden to begin kicking a football back and forth between them.

"They're funny, aren't they?" Amy said, coming up behind River and standing with her to look out the window. "Our boys."

"He's such a child," River observed, watching her husband run; arms flailing, braces falling off his shoulders. "I thought only children run like that."

"He is a child," Amy remarked fondly. "And watch out around biscuits. He inhales them. I don't even think he chews.

"I'm glad you came by today," she continued, deliberately keeping her attention focused out the window and not on her daughter. "This you; a younger you. I mean… the older you already does it. But I think, this young, maybe you need to be told…

"Anyway. Rory and I were talking, and I'd like you to do something for me. For us."

She paused, letting the silence drag between them until River turned to face her. "What is it?" she demanded. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to look after him." A tilt of Amy's chin gestured out the window toward the Doctor, and River frowned.

"Look after him?" she asked. "Look after him, how?"

"He's showing up less and less these days; and sometimes when he does, he just acts all forgetful and weird." A loud whooping from the Doctor made both of them look out the window, and Amy rolled her eyes at his victory dance around the football. "I mean, weirder than usual.

"Rory and I; we're not always there, and he needs… He needs someone, even if he doesn't like to admit it. Right now, he's my regular Raggedy Doctor; but the last time we saw him in Mexico he was…" She shook her head, making a face.

"He gets this look. You'll know what I mean when you see it. When he starts to feel too much, and worry and fear and grieve too much… he just can't take it. He needs someone to make him laugh, and make him think. He doesn't do well when he travels alone. Gets all impulsive and lonely and wild… like someone else I know." Amy grinned. "You two really are made for each other."

River was still squinting at her in confusion. "I still don't understand. You want me to be... you? Looking after him while we travel?"

"No," Amy sighed. "You can't be us. You can be something better for him. His wife. Look after him. Take care of him."

"Finish each others sentences?" River mumbled, thinking of her parents in the future, sitting around a scrubbed wooden table in New York.

"What? No."

"Sorry. Bad joke."

"He made me a promise at Demon's Run: he will take care of you and be there when you call, no matter what you need… and I know my Raggedy Man. He always will. The fact that you're here now, visiting from Stormcage is proof of that. He told me," Amy said, lowering her voice confidentially, "that he thought something was wrong you didn't want to talk about, and you needed to see your Mum… so that's why he brought you here today."

River shrugged, not wanting to confirm or deny anything. He hadn't been wrong; there was something that she didn't want to talk about. But perhaps, coming to see her parents in the past wasn't helpful, as what was wrong was that she knew she was going to lose them in the future…

"So now," Amy continued, "I need the same promise from you. You'll take care of him, even if Rory and I aren't there. Especially if we're not there."

"Why is this important to you?" River asked, trying not to feel frustrated by the conversation. "Why now?"

Amy sighed, putting her arm around River's shoulders tentatively. "Is this alright with you?" she asked. "This seems like a mother-daughter sort of moment."

"It's fine," River responded automatically. "You're my Mum; I think you can put your arm around me if you'd like."

Amy gave a small giggle, keeping her arm draped around River awkwardly. "It's like this," she said, sighing again. "We're getting older, and doing all that responsible stuff. Making wills, and life plans, and bequeathing things… And we realised that the things we have now, they're all just material. It doesn't matter who gets them. The only items of value that we worry about are… you. And the Doctor. He's my best friend and you're my daughter; and it'll make us happy to know you're both taken care of."

"You're making a will?" River asked, momentarily distracted. "Why?"

"Because that's what you do, when you're in your thirties," Amy said. "You grow up. And you think about the future as a coming reality; not just an abstract."

Amy was standing close to her, close enough that River could suddenly see it. "You've got a grey hair," she remarked. "I didn't see it before, but you do."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Silver, please. Grey makes me sound-"she shuddered, "old."

"Silver has more dignity?" River couldn't help her smile.

"That's right," Amy agreed. "Dignity. Very befitting, I think."

"Just listen to Amy Pond," River teased. "Worrying about getting older."

"Amy Pond wouldn't have worried about things like that," Amy teased back, face lit up with a grin. "Amy Pond thought she'd live forever, travelling with her boys and getting into trouble. But legally I am Amelia Williams; and she is far more mature and dignified, thank you very much. And, she's your Mum, who is asking her daughter Melody for a promise."

"You're using my real name," River said. "You must be serious."

"Very. Now: promise. You'll look after him."

"I don't think," River said, shrugging self consciously, "that he needs that. Me looking after him. He's the one who seems to take care of me, what with the visits and the adventures…"

"Marriage," Amy responded nonchalantly. "You take care of each other when it's necessary. You're really young now, compared to him; but one day that'll change and you'll be the older one. And when you are, you'll realise that his I'm the Doctor, I can do anything swagger-" Amy broke off to mime fiddling with a bowtie, making River giggle, "is an act."

Strange to think of the Doctor being so young as to need her the way Amy was saying. "I still don't think," River began, stopping at Amy's frown.

"Are you doubting your Mother, Melody Pond?"

"Ohh," River said, smiling a little despite herself. "My full name… now I'm really in trouble. Alright. If it means so much to you: I promise. I'll look after him."

"Good girl." Amy gave her a little squeeze, and River relaxed, breathing in the scent of her perfume, feeling her mother's arm around her. Not awkward, anymore. Natural, and all so familiar, for the both of them it seemed.

"Amelia Williams certainly is a worrier," River remarked idly. "You never used to be like that.."

"Well," Amy said, tossing her hair back with an insouciant flip of her head. "Amelia Williams will always care and worry about those she loves. She loves Rory -that'll never change- and the Doctor. And her daughter."

The wording of that felt very important, all of a sudden; and River turned to Amy, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.

"Do you really think of me as your daughter now?" she asked quietly. "I always felt… I haven't seen you very much, after Berlin. Too busy at University, and then getting-" she rolled her eyes, "convicted. But it always felt, the few times that I did see you, that you weren't sure how to react to me. I'm not the baby you lost, or the childhood friend you grew up with anymore… I wasn't even really the River Song you'd met before."

"I can't believe you need to ask that," Amy said, making a face. "Yeah, maybe I felt like that right at first. It took awhile to be alright with everything. But… don't you know that you're always my Melody? No matter what we call you, or how old or young you are. You're my daughter… and I will always love and worry about you."

Amy grinned, a little self consciously. "That's what mums do."

She fixed River with a significant look; and River's eyes widened as she stared back, hearing Amy's words and seeing all the little puzzle pieces and hints from the future that she'd noticed but not understood slotting into place. Those differences between the Amy of her memories and the Amy from the future… River shook her head, a tiny smile creeping over her face.

"I'll be right back," she said, ducking away from Amy and heading out of the room. "Just one moment; give me one moment…"

She hid in the hallway, pulling the manipulator from her pocket and hastily strapping it on her wrist, punching in coordinates and reappearing moments later in front of a familiar door in New York. She knocked, three swift taps, and her mother opened the door immediately. Almost as though she'd been standing there, just waiting.

"I thought you'd be back," she said quietly, holding out her arms. "You were so upset earlier…"

"It's been a few days for me," River answered. "Only a few hours for you though."

"True," Rory said, coming up behind Amy. "We're lucky; two visits from our favourite daughter in one day."

"Only daughter," River retorted.

"Doesn't mean you're not still our favourite."

She grinned, reaching out to hug him. Rested her head against his shoulder, squeezing her arms tight around him.

"I can't stay," she said, pulling away slightly, reluctant to stop. "I just… I wanted to ask: when the two of you leave, when you decide to leave… what do I tell you?"

"I think," Rory said, backing away with a glance at his wife, "that I don't need to be part of this conversation. I'll let Amy handle this."

She turned expectant eyes on her mother; and Amy paused, obviously debating what she could say. "You told me to go," she said finally. "You told the Doctor to shut up, and you told me this was my best chance, and I should go… And I've always been grateful for that. I don't know if I would have had the courage, if you didn't tell me I should."

River nodded, intently. She'd realised, in the last few minutes with the Amy she'd just come from in the past, that it must been something like that. Because she'd finally figured out what it was, that elusive air in New York that she hadn't been able to describe before. Maturity. It hadn't been so obvious in Rory; he'd always been Rory. Being a 2000 year old Centurion did have its perks; and lifelong gravity seemed to be a major component of that.

But she could suddenly see it in Amy. The Amy Pond she'd always known -the irrepressible, blissfully hedonistic Amy that Mels had grown up with - would eventually become the Amy in New York. Her mother: Amelia Williams. Dignified and mature, a mother in deed as well as name. Comfortable enough in their relationship to know it was alright to give her daughter a hug when she knew she was upset… or even to sense, somehow, when she would come to visit.

"Are you alright?" Amy asked, carefully scrutinizing her face.

"I'm fine," River insisted. "I just wanted to see you -this you- and tell you that I understand… whatever is going to happen in my future has to happen to turn you into who you were meant to be. And I promise I won't try to change it. I'll tell you to go; as I evidently did. It's just…"

She paused, biting her lip. "I'll miss you," River admitted in a low voice. "I thought we'd finally be a family. The things normal people do: Sunday dinners and birthday parties and happy Christmases... Trips, together as a family… and being able to pop by with the Doctor in the TARDIS. I just thought, now you know everything that I'd finally get that."

Amy looked at her, gaze steady and slightly confused. "You are young, aren't you?" she murmured, tucking a curl behind her daughters ear. "Thought Time Lord DNA was supposed to be so superior… maybe you're all this blind, young? Try not to tease the Doctor too much when it's his turn.

"No, it's true," she said a little sadly. "No trips in the TARDIS for us.

"But…" Her voice faded and her eyes darted momentarily to the manipulator on River's wrist, "I think that my daughter can do just about anything. And don't forget: you might be all grown up, but you're never too old to call your old Mum if you want."

She didn't think about what Amy had said as she popped back to 21st century Leadworth, her smiles and laughter coming more easily now as she talked with her parents, joined them in teased her husband about his driving skills and general lack of coordination. She didn't think about it as she hugged Rory, and then Amy goodbye, promising to visit soon; and back in the TARDIS she gave the Doctor a gentle shove and a cheeky wink before she took over the controls for the first time since Berlin, navigating them back to Stormcage with barely a bump and not missing the delighted look in his eyes beneath his pout that she was flying his ship better than he did.

In fact, she didn't remember those words until much later that night, alone in Stormcage in a surprisingly good mood and humming to herself as she began organizing books into ordered stacks, pinning photos to the walls. And then she stopped, suddenly. Lowered the pictures of her family clutched in her hands… and began to laugh helplessly with understanding.

Embarrassing, really, that it had taken her so long. By her second trip to New York, she should have gotten it… but -the older River justified, thinking back- sometimes the young walk through life with blinders on; and heavens, but she had been so very young then. Seeing only what was in front of her and not thinking of the whole picture.

She knew the truth of what would happen to her parents, during a trip to New York in their past and her future. But there was another truth there too, and far more important. They remembered. They remembered seeing her in the future… many, many times in the future; from how she was greeted. As though it was perfectly normal to find River Song on their doorstep.

Which really meant that nothing was over. And strangely, that idea gave hope where nothing else does. Through the adventures she has with her parents in the following years -with and without the Doctor- the visits to the house in Leadworth, the happy Christmases, and the birthday parties and simple Sunday dinners is the thought that even when the idyllic time with the Ponds ends, farewell does not necessarily mean goodbye.