Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

11(M)

played your song and then you were gone

The instant he realises, really, truly realises, he is torn between elation and fear. She is about to regenerate. He can feel the energy exuding from within her before it even begins to show on her skin. It is heavy and heady and slides through the air to wrap around him, time, time, time and space. He breathes it in and shoots a panicked look at Amy and Rory. They're human, and they'll never survive this.

"Back, back, back, get back!" He pulls them desperately toward the TARDIS, flinging open the door as noxious gas pours out. "Extractor fans on!" The fans whir to life and he pauses in surprise, "Oh that worked!" He shoves Amy and Rory through the doors. "You can't be close, it'll kill you."

Amy clutches to the doorframe, glaring at him. "What in the hell is going on? What will kill us?"

"Last time I did this, I ended up a toddler in the middle of New York." Mels has risen behind him and he closes his eyes, his hearts squeezing at the thought. Melody Pond. River Song. Oh what has he done to her?

"Doctor, explain!" Amy still refuses to budge and he drops his head before glaring up at her.

"Mels. Short for..."

"Melody." Mels - not for much longer oh oh - he wonders if she will be someone new - how many new someones before she is his River? He is elated. And terrified. She can regenerate. He grins and Amy frowns in confusion.

"Yeah, I named my daughter for her."

"No Amy," the Doctor looks at her seriously, "you named your daughter, after your daughter." Both Amy and Rory look up in confusion, to see her standing in the middle of the room behind him, and he can see the gold energy reflected in their eyes.

"She's Melody?" Amy whispers, looking down at him in shock, her hands loosening from the doorframe.

"And if you're too close, the regeneration energy can kill you." The Doctor points out before shoving them both into the TARDIS forcibly and yanking the door shut. He sonics the lock and turns to watch as she enters into the final throes of regeneration. Unshockingly, she's a screamer. The thought makes him grin even as he sprints around the room, making preparations.

A child is not a weapon!

But he's failed her in so, so many ways already. When he is finished his task, he leans against the desk, watching with wonder and awe as her head snaps back and all that hair just... springs forth. "River." He whispers her name in awe, because he hadn't known. He'd never known - oh god, if only he'd known. All those times - all those times he's met her and-

"Well then. Let's see shall we?" She seems almost startled by her own new voice and he watches with wide eyes as she performs checks he is achingly familiar with. She runs her hands over her own body and his mouth feels dry as he watches, which is weird, because he isn't thirsty. He cannot help but track her hands as they slide over her hips though, he's never had a chance to properly appreciate the shape of River, because it is, frankly, quite a lovely form. "Oh." Her eyes light up as she notices his interest and he flushes, looking away for a split second before he looks back. He cannot stop looking at her. Brand new. His River, all brand new, with the resonance of fresh regeneration energy rolling off of her in palatable waves. "It's all going on down there, isn't it?" She is wide-eyed with wonder and he can barely fight back a grin, because he knows what is about to happen. She is and isn't River. She is River, but not yet and she has been brain-washed and who knew what else, conditioned for one purpose.

To kill him.

But she is River. That hair and those eyes and his entire being automatically responds to her on so many levels. The smell of her, wafting through the air, the look of her, freshly aglow and still healing, the image of her. He watches as her hands bury themselves in her hair and his hearts beat faster in response. "The hair! The hair! It just doesn't stop does it?" She moves over to the mirror and looks at her reflection eagerly, eyes scanning her own face. It is a heady thing, watching someone fall in love with their own visage. It's something he hasn't seen for years and years and years. "Look at that!" She tilts her head, curls brushing her shoulders gently. "Everything changes. Oh but I love it." She smiles and turns to face him with a grin. "I'm all sorts of mature." Her voice drops low, so close to his River that he feels a shiver run through him at the sound, and his hands grip each other as he stands there and watches her adjust.