Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

3(G)

as the sea awaits the river

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In the end, it was all for naught.

The very circumstances they needed to create her would be their undoing.

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“And what is this, child?” Her voice is like badly forged steel. All appearances of strength but River can hear the brittle edge. One push and all that control would turn to dust.

“The TARDIS.” She answers promptly, because she knows the punishment that comes with feigned stupidity. She also knows what punishment comes with refusal to answer.

“What is it? What does it do?” Madame’s voice is tension cloaked in patience. Everything about her is something disguised as something else.

“Time and Relative Dimensions in Space.” River responds. “It is a time machine. And a space ship.”

“Very good Melody.” Kovarian praises her, a hand hovering over her head and River bites her lip – because she shouldn’t say it. Sheshouldn’t say it. But she always does.

“My name is River.” She cringes and looks up to see an impotent rage flash across Madame’s face. It twists into ugly shapes and the colour is mottled as her hand lands in River’s hair and she pulls, hard.

“Your name, child is Melody Pond. Stop it with this River Song nonsense!” She lets go of River’s hair and River rubs her scalp with a tiny frown. She has learned from all of her mistakes, but something in her hearts won’t let her capitulate on this one fact.

“I’m sorry, Madame.” Her whispered words seem to calm the older woman towering above her.

“You will be, child. Three days.” She snaps to the guards in the room and strides out. “Perhaps you’ll be more pleasant in the future Melody.”

River watches her leave with wide eyes and the knowledge that this is one lesson of many that she will just never learn.

x

She hates and loves the suit.

It is a punishment – a self-sustainable prison that operates whether River is conscious or not. She hates being locked up, hates not having her papers and pencils, hates not having the freedom to twirl or jump or dance. All of these things are forbidden.

Which is exactly why she loves them all so much.

But the one thing she does do – can do in the suit that she cannot seem to do out of it is sleep. And with sleep come the dreams.

You are mine and his. And all will be well River.

With the dreams come the voice – the voice that talks softly, gently, jumbles words and can’t quite remember everything but shows her image after image after image after image.

Bigger on the inside.

She dreams of spinning dials and dead languages. History she has never learned. A future she has never lived.

Co-ordinates. Triple seven five slash three four nine by ten zero twelve slash acorn. Don’t leave the brakes on. Write this down.

She loves that voice. Because it is the first gentle voice she has ever heard-

No, River Song. Fourth. Do you remember? What you are going to be Melody Pond, is very very brave.

-she doesn’t remember, but that voice teaches her things she never knew. Re-teaches her things she’s learned and reminds her of things she didn’t ever know she knew. All in that language that only she and her dreams know.