Daughters Will Love Like You Do
(GEN) Rory Williams, River Song
G
Summary: No one had ever looked at him like that. He wonders if this is how he looked at his own father. Like he's a hero. - Father/Daughter bonding in space. (Post "Let's Kill Hitler")
Disclaimer: Not my characters. This has been a disclaimer.
AN: Title from the song 'Daughters' by John Mayer.
River feels a pair of eyes on her as she moves effortlessly around the Tardis console. When the Old Girl was set and seen to, she turned around to find none other than her dear old dad. He was in his night clothes and barefoot.
"Hi," he waves awkwardly.
"Hello, Rory," she greets warmly, propping a hip against the console. "What are you doing up so late? The only person who stalks me while I'm flying the Tardis is her thief."
"Sorry," Rory stands looking unsure at the top of the stairs, "I was just… wandering."
She smiles at him fondly because he was not wandering. No matter how time passed, front or back, he always managed to get lost. He still did that back in her early days or, in his case, will be doing so in his future. The Tardis would bring him back to the console room when she'd given him a good stroll. River knew very well that the Old Girl quite fancied her father walking down her corridors, but mum's the word on that.
"Got lost, did you?" River infers with a raised brow.
Rory laughs nervously, the tip of his ears starts going red before the warm color spreads across his entire face. His shoulders do lose some of their tension and he looks more at ease, or at ease enough to venture closer.
She knew it was still early for him and Amy. She's sure they're still processing who she is to them, who she is to their best friend. Ultimately, what she means, is what they've lost.
"Where's the Doctor?" Rory asks.
"I sent him away," she answers proudly. "He made a fuss over it but in the end, he did as I said."
Rory debates how exactly that would have to go down to be successful. Not many people could make the Doctor do anything but then, well, River wasn't just anyone.
"Is mum awake?" River inquires.
Rory finds himself more than slightly stumped at River calling Amy her mum. Which Amy is, and he's… he's her dad. River's his daughter.
"Rory," River calls gently, gathering his attention back on her.
She smiles at him. It looks so strangely familiar; he doesn't know how he didn't see it before. There's something in her eyes that makes his heart feel like they're going to burst out of his chest like in those kid cartoons. Or perhaps it would explode like a piñata.
"Did you," he's not been sure of how to ask his question. Even when he tries to find the right wording it still sounds like complete rubbish to his own head. He decides to just go on and say it. It's not like River would hold it against him, them. She never had.
"Do you remember when you were born? I mean, the Doctor says you have been talking to him since then, but I don't exactly know how that works. Do you? Remember, I mean."
"I do," River confirms. "It was all I had for years. Mum made a very epic speech about you."
Rory snorts, "Mind reciting it?"
"I remember every word. Every face. Everything. I always have," River relays. "The Doctor said it's a Timelord thing. Sort of. I may not be one fully, but I have enough DNA that it came with the package. Being able to take details and keep them with complete accuracy. It's impossible to forget much. If you do end up missing something you always find a way to remember it and then, like the other memories, they never leave you again."
"Sounds like it comes in handy then."
"Sometimes it does," River nods. "Sometimes it keeps the past alive more than I'd like it to."
"It's all so jumbled together. I don't know what to do about it all," Rory confesses quietly, guiltily. There have been all sorts of unexplainable, wordless emotions going on inside of his head that he has absolutely no clue how to deal with. "You're River, but you were Mels, and you're my… you're my Melody. What hurts the most is, I couldn't do anything about it, any of it."
"But you did," River insists. "You did the most important thing you could do." She's looking up at him in such disbelief as if he's missing the most obvious thing. "You're my father. You. I would be nothing without you."
"I never even really got to hold you," he points out, an ache in him that scalded still.
River walks slowly until she was standing right in front of him, looking at him in what seemed to be complete adoration. No one had ever looked at him like that. He wonders if this is how he looked at his own father. Like he's a hero.
"You put me back together, you and Amy. Kovarian had worked me so far gone that the memories I had when I was born had been locked away where I couldn't reach them. After I found you, I hadn't even realized how much I needed you," she pauses, suddenly looking embarrassed by that admission.
"I couldn't keep you safe like I should have."
"But you were there when I needed you most," River maintains. "Even after everything else happened, you never stopped being there. You were kind and caring, always. You loved me like no one else ever could. Fiercely and without an end."
He found her conviction so very hard to believe. She should blame him for not saving her. That's what dads did, didn't they? Kept their children from harm.
"You really think that?" He asks.
"No," River shook her head, curls bouncing along with her, "I know that."
Rory shifted nervously, and River knew that mannerism well. Rory had always attempted to lighten a topic if it got too uncomfortable.
"I'll hardly win any 'Father of the Year' awards." He says in jest but fails to make it sound anything other than hopelessly sad.
She's picked up that trait well. Lightening difficult situations. Like father, like daughter, after all. The difference between the two of them was that she's a much better liar than he is. But she never had to lie when it came to easing her father's discomforts and it was always genuine when she did so.
She starts with an affable shrug.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Mum pointed a gun at me twice, so I think you're pretty much even. But now that you mention it," she tilts her head to the side and pretends to think it over, "there is one award I'd recommend signing up for. The 'Centurion of the Year' award. I think you have a chance of winning because, firstly, you're the only one left. Secondly, let's be honest, no one has your legs."
His laughter catches him by surprise.
"There you are," River grins, "sorted."
When his laughter dies down River offers her hand. Rory takes it and lets her lead them over towards the Tardis doors. She opens them and he finds they are greeted by the vastness of the sky, with stars so close they could probably reach out and grab hold of one.
River sits down at the edge and he settles down beside her, shoulders touching while their legs dangle from the Tardis doors.
"You never get tired of this," he says, admiring the view.
River nods in agreement, "No one could."
"Now that we know, you know, I mean, about you," Rory begins, "we should get together more often. As a family, I mean."
"We do," River says, "or will do."
"Good." It pleased him immensely to hear that.
"A spoiler I can warrant you is that we've come to leave the Doctor out of it. Not all the time, but there are certain occasions."
Rory frowns, but he can guess. He asks anyway.
"Why?"
"He has a habit of ruining our family brunches by dragging along some Sontarans who want to kill him, or wearing another dreadful hat, or something equally as troublesome," River states, an air of exasperation attached to her words.
Rory nods vehemently, "Yeah. He does tend to do that, doesn't he?"
"We've stopped inviting him for brunch ages ago," River chuckles. "He is allowed to dinners though."
"Does… does my dad know you?" He wonders. "I mean you, not Mels. That you're... ours."
"That is a mighty question," River sighs.
Rory watches her watch the stars and shakes his head slowly, "Too complicated to answer. Okay, skip that one."
River looks grateful, and he feels happy he did that for her, helped ease her as she had done for him. An accomplishment. A father-y accomplishment.
They spent some time sitting at the Tardis doors and marveling the universe around them. Father and daughter bonding in space. River names every star for him and explains why and how they came to be, who discovered them etc. She relays this information calm and scholarly, not flailing about like a big puppy, like the Doctor. She retells massively embarrassing stories about the Doctor sans spoilers, just to hear Rory laugh. Eventually, they come back inside the Tardis.
"You want me to teach you how to fly her?" River offers and motions to the console.
Rory grins so hard his cheeks hurt, "Oh, no. I don't think that would be wise."
"She likes you," River informs him. "She did call you pretty once, did she not?"
Rory flushes at the mention.
"Oh," she chuckles joyously at that, "which reminds me! He sulked for weeks!"
"Who?" Rory questions.
"The Doctor!" she answers. "He went around like a wounded puppy with his tail caught between his legs because his dear Old Girl found you pretty. Oh, it was magnificent!"
Rory smiles fondly for what seemed to be the millionth time that night. He tries to suppress a yawn, trying to make this sweet little interlude last just a little longer.
"You should go back to bed," River suggests. "Try and get a proper rest for tomorrow."
"Are you going to be here when we wake up?"
She shakes her head sadly, confirming what he had already guessed.
"I wish I could," River admits.
"But we'll see you soon though, right?"
"You will," she assured him. "Secret family brunches, remember?"
Her father's face lights up, a bit of hope shining back at her from behind his bright blue eyes.
"Okay. Great. I'll look forward to it."
"On you go."
"Okay," Rory begins to walk back up the stairs from which he came. "Night, River."
"Goodnight, Rory."
"Dad," he says suddenly.
River frowns, "I'm sorry?"
She thinks perhaps she misheard him. Despite the night feeling like she spent time with her very own father, she very much hadn't. Not really.
It's not him yet.
She must keep reminding herself, this far along in her timeline because honestly, it's the easiest thing to forget.
He's Rory. He's Rory. He's still not dad. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.
Over and over, the reminder spills from her head. She had gotten used to her parents knowing exactly who she was and these latter days it was so hard to remember that they didn't know, they just found out.
It has become the hardest secret she's ever had to keep.
"Dad, you can call me dad now," Rory offers. "If you'd like."
"I would," River admits, "very much so."
He waits and watches as she struggles with herself. Unsure, scared even. It feels like ages before she finally replies.
"Goodnight, Dad."
"Goodnight," and it came out like the most natural thing in the world, "my Melody."