Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

112(G)

         so bitter is [life], death is little
                            more
                        
                         Odainath

She spends her childhood learning of 'the doctor.' The man who can turn around armies at the mention of his name, who planned the demise of his race so he alone could travel the universe and meddle in other worlds' affairs, who was responsible for so much death and destruction.

She learns the names of planets he destroyed, races he annihilated, and grows to hate this smiling man.

(Of course, when they finally meet, it all goes wrong and he walks away with his lives and she's given up the rest of hers.)

*

Rule 591: Some questions are better left unanswered .

The last day of her trial is a blur of angry faces, a guilty verdict and a damning tirade from the judge. River doesn't listen, doesn't look and nearly loses her footing as she is pushed into her cell, her meagre bag of belongings thrown unceremoniously at her feet. The guards' footsteps fade and she doesn't turn around as the tardis materialises behind her.
“You knew I was here, didn't you?” the doctor says as he steps out.

She turns around, excited, but her smile falters when she looks at the doctor and sees how very old his eyes are. His body is still youthful, his stance still lithe, but those eyes could only belong to an old man.

“Doctor?” she whispers and she watches as he looks to crumple, as if the weight of the world was on shoulders and he just wasn't strong enough to hold it up any more.

“I-,” he breathes and she closes the gap between them and cups his cheek in her hand.

“What's wrong?” she asks and he shakes his head and takes a step back.

“Please, don't ask me anything, River,” he begs, “please.”

She nods and he exhales a shaky breath before giving her a smile she almost believes.

“Enough of all that! Let's go!”

*

Later that night, he whispers something so quietly that the only way she knows he's even opened his mouth is because the tardis is absolutely freezing and she can see his breath swirling in the air. She tightens her grip on the railing and listens closely.

“I'm so sorry, River...”

Then he sees her watching him from above and shoots her a large grin that almost makes her forget what she's just seen. Questions burn but she remembers the rules, remembers the warnings, and stays silent.

*

    Rule 87: Nothing is simple    .

Some nights, on board the tardis, she can pretend her life before the doctor was all a dream (or nightmare) but she doesn't sleep long enough to do that. Dream.
Her legs are tangled in the bedsheets, her smooth skin making quiet rustling sounds against the soft linen when the doctor coughs from the doorway. She jumps, startled, and sits bolt upright, the strap of her nightgown falling down to expose her shoulder. The doctor looks at her face, to the bare expanse of skin, and back again.

“I thought perhaps you should be getting back,” he says.

She tilts her head to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder, and holds his gaze.

“Why?”

He exhales a long breath and all she can see in pain etched into every line of his face. Part of her wants to turn away, pretend she can't see what's right in front of her, but she can't. Everything about this would be infinitely easier if she didn't understand him so perfectly well but they're cut from the same cloth and she sees straight through him.