Not dead!


There was a crackling sound of electricity and a muffled curse as Hunter looked up, eyes focusing on the gun pointed at his face. His hands immediately shot into the air. River sighed.

"Why are you here?" she asked, lowering her weapon. Her tone was soft and quiet, like the smile on Hunter's face as he studied his mother and the questioning frown creasing her forehead. He just tilted his head to the side slightly, shrugging loosely.

"Might have been an accident. Or maybe I just wanted to see you. Any you," he clarified upon seeing her raised eyebrow. "Any version of you, whatever. . . tense."

"But this version knows less about you."

"And this version seems happier," he replied off-handedly. Her face twisted through several expressions at once - surprise, worry, fear - before settling into a sort of acceptance.

"I doubt you'll explain why?"

"Spoilers."

"But of course."

His smile grew into a grin that shone, even in the weak moonlight that forced its way into the room through a gap in the curtain. She felt herself smile in return before shaking a head, gesturing towards the door, saying, "Come on then. Let's move this pyjama party to somewhere with a kettle. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

She followed him down the stairs, watching as he dragged a hand down the banister as he went, an odd twist to his mouth. He looked back, ducking his head bashfully at her gaze.

"The paint's rubbed off on ours," he explained. "Big ol' line down the railing from me doing this. I'm not used to it being so new looking. Everything's so new looking." He grinned. "Even you."

"I'll try not to take that as an insult."

"It's only an insult to future you."

"Either way, still me."

"Yeah, yeah." His neck straightened when they got to the kitchen - eyes following her movements around the counter, the cupboards - and his eyes were bright with something like excitement. "Is Nebula here? Dad?"

"God, it's weird to hear you say that," she murmured, rummaging around for tea-bags. "Dad. Bleugh." She ignored his snort. "No, they're off doing whatever it is they do when they're not here."

"Adventuring?"

"Wreaking havoc."

"Well, they always seem to manage to help people along the way."

River smiled, brushing past Hunter as he moved to get milk from the fridge. She paused, tapping a finger gently against the countertop as she said, "They're full of good intentions."

"The Doctor and the Martyr," he murmured, nodding his agreement. "Saving the universe, one civilisation at a time. Should be their company line."

He frowned suddenly, glancing around before locating the green container that contained the sugar. He picked it up, studying it a moment before waving it in River's direction. "Wait until eighth grade; I made a clay sugar pot in art."

"Will make a sugar pot. You're four months old in my eyes."

"Tenses!" he laughed, hands flailing slightly. "I'm twenty-three!"

"A veritable baby in Time Lord years," she replied, reaching up to ruffle his hair. The boy (man, technically, but River judged age harshly) was as lanky and awkward as his father in the way he ducked out of reach, spinning around her with a chuckle and a swish of green, plaid-patterned tweed as his jacket fanned out around him.

They settled after that, like fallen leaves upset by the wind coming to rest again, seated at the table with cups of tea rested in front of them. There was the biscuit tin too, filled with jammie dodgers that they only seemed to have put out by reflex, unconsciously accommodating an absent man's tastes. Both noticed it, neither mentioned it, leaving River to wonder if that was the norm for Hunter, if in the decades to come the Doctor still won't have made proper ties to the house his wife and son lived in.

River exhaled heavily, idly tracing shapes on the side of her mug. Her mouth twisted wryly as she said, "Speaking of saving the world, why is it that you seem to have escaped the family business?"

"Ah, well." Hunter shrugged, smiling meaninglessly at the table like the swirls of the wood grain had amused him somehow. "I suppose you'll try and say it's because I had an absent father, or something."

"Is it?"

Hunter glanced up at her soft tone, his eyes meeting hers and locking gaze, the green somehow communicating a mixture of upset and understanding. He shook his head emphatically.

"No, of course not," he laughed. "God, we're all about as good as each other at settling down, growing sturdy roots. If we tried to live like a normal family we'd all go stir-crazy."

"So you're not even a tiny bit bitter that he was never there?"

"Course not. I was straight out the door myself soon as I got my vortex manipulator at eighteen." He blinked, reassessing what she'd said. "What, are you?"

She shook her head loosely, curls dancing around her face. "Bitter, no. Maybe more wearily accepting. I'd be lying if I said that I expected the Doctor to settle here. He never just. . . is. Only ever has been or will be."

"Well, we've all got our reasons for running."

"And what's yours? Raised by a man of peace - how'd you end up an assassin?"

He inclined his head, smirking slightly in such an absurdly Doctor-like expression she was thrown for a moment.

"I'm not an assassin, I'm a - well, a hunter, pardon the obvious." She smiled her understanding and he continued. "Dad wanted to fix things, so he was the Doctor. I want to find something, so I'm the Hunter. Simple as that."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"What are you looking for?"

"Hey, spoilers," he replied with a rather smug grin and River rolled her eyes, mouth still turning up at the corners. She took a sip of tea, expression turning thoughtful.

"You say it's for personal reasons yet you do jobs for other people. What's that, money on the side?"

"I'm helping people in my own way."

"So still your father's son."

He simply smiled shyly, looking down and away as his fingers traced the rim of the mug.

It was when River started yawning that Hunter made a move to leave, standing with quick apologies for keeping her up late, gratitude for the tea and well wishes for the future ("My past!" he'd said. "Feels odd to wish you well when I already know what happens."). She stopped him right before he brought a hand down on his vortex manipulator though, pulling him into her arms in a warm hug.

"Do look after yourself," she murmured, pulling back to look him in the face.

He smiled ruefully and replied with a soft, "Yes, Mum."


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