Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

66(G)

                     Five Plus One

               SnubNosedSilhouette

Summary:
Five Times River Song Was Frightened (and one time she wasn't)

First

The first thing she realizes when she wakes is that she is desperate for a drink of water.  Her mouth has never been so dry, and it isn’t until she tries to reach for the tumbler next to her bedside that she realizes a second thing—she had no idea where she is.  The room is white and warm, and she is buried up to her shoulders under a soft, thick coverlet.

She struggles weakly to sit upright, and memories of the previous day (how long have I been here? she wonders) start to trickle back into her conscious mind.

Leadworth.  A field of half-ripened wheat.  Amy and Rory.  A cherry-red sportscar.  A gun.  The Doctor.

She looks around her, suddenly aware that she is dressed in nothing more than a thin hospital gown.  She is unarmed, and more than the lack of clothing, she knows the naked feeling she is experiencing is due to the fact that she doesn’t have a weapon.  There is nothing recognizably hers in this bland room, and nothing immediately useful either.  She considers the water (break the glass) and an abstract metal tree hanging on the wall above her bed (sharpen the edges) before memory overtakes her again.

Hitler.  Terrible shot.  Golden light exploding from every inch of her skin.  New Melody.

She looks at her hands as if she is seeing them for the first time.  It’s a whole new coloring to work with, she thinks, and Amy’s face flashes unbidden through her mind.  Then the floodgates open, and she gasps as the memories overwhelm her.

The Doctor.  Bananas that should have been guns.  Killing with a kiss.  Berlin on the eve of war.  Victory.  Red pain shooting from the mouth of a robot that somehow looks like her mother.  The Doctor begging for her life.  Begging for Amy and Rory’s lives.  The blue box.  Light and warmth and an overwhelming sense of home as she opened its doors.  Her doors.  Her mind full of new ideas, new facts, and an overwhelming sense that the Doctor was right.  Whispered words in her ear for a woman named River Song.  For her.  Understanding.  Sacrifices.  Resurrection with a kiss.

Her fists are balled up against her eyes, pressing hard as if to block the images in her mind.  She feels as if she will split in two if they don’t stop.

Half of her is Melody—the Doctor’s killer, the psychopath, the woman who has waited and bided her time, living through two childhoods just to place herself in his path.  Just to kill him.

The other half is River Song.  Someone created the moment she set foot in the blue box.  She has no idea who this woman is, and only a vague notion of why she exists, but she is fighting Melody with every ounce of strength she has.

Ragefearanger

                        Calm. Peace.  Love.

Painhurtfear

                        Warmth.  Light.  Wisdom.

Hurthurthurt

                        Home.  Comfort.  Hush.

Gasping, desperate for an escape from her own mind, Melody (River? Who am I?) throws back the blankets still covering her legs.  She makes it to the door of her room before collapsing into the arms of a woman dressed in white.

“What are you doing out of bed, dear?” the woman asks, lifting her back to her feet and supporting her back into the room.  “Your friends stepped out for a moment—I’ll let them know you were looking for them.  Rest now.  You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”