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crack_van2013-05-14 04:29 pm
stars-inthe-sky.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-05-14 04:29 pm
Entry tags:
"Post" by easytheretyger (T)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: River Song/The Doctor, Amy Pond/Rory Williams
Length: 5K words
Author on LJ: easytheretyger
Author Website: Master list
Why this must be read: Headcanon accepted. This fic--which sees River packing up her parents' house post-TATM and wondering where their farewell note to her is (if it even exists)--sort of broke my heart and pieced it back together again. I love stories that flesh out and balance her marriage to the Doctor and that give him the chance to support her in turn. And the illustrations of River's variable childhood leave so much to the imagination while feeling complete.
A half hour later she was sitting on her parents’ made bed. The clothes in the wardrobe were still untouched, and a thick pile of letters tied with string sat in her lap. She’d counted twice: sixty-two of them, each addressed to Melody Pond. She knew when they had been written, she had been there as Mels, witnessing her mother tear herself apart writing letters to her lost baby. But she didn’t know that Amy had held onto them, or how many there were—one for every day she waited for the Doctor to return with news of her baby. Guilt twisted in River’s stomach.
“Hi.”
He’d done it again—snuck up on her—but this time she couldn’t muster a smile for him. Without hesitation he moved across to sit next to her on the bed, nudging her into scooching over, and put an arm around her shoulder. She rested her head against him, hearing the soothing canter of his hearts in his chest.
“What are they?” he asked.
“Letters Amy wrote while you were searching for me as a baby.”
He swallowed heavily. “Oh. There are a lot of them.”
“Yeah. She took it really hard; they both did. This was her outlet I suppose.” River toyed with the loops of string, half wishing he hadn’t come, because the stack of paper on her knee was the very last straw—she couldn’t hold the hurt inside any longer. “I hated you so much at the time for what you had done to them, but it wasn’t you, was it? It was me. You begged me to let you find me; you were desperate and I wouldn’t—”
He stroked her hair. “River, you told me then that I had to trust you. That everything would work out, and it would all be worth it. What’s changed? Is it the fact that they’re…”
River shook her head and lifted the letters up by the string then dropped them back into her lap. “You know, I was quite upset they hadn’t left a letter for me. You got yours, and my grandparents got theirs but there wasn’t one for me. At least that’s what I thought. But—” She was aware that her voice was cracking but she couldn’t hold the flood of emotion back any longer. “It’s like sixty-two pieces of tangible evidence of how much pain I caused them. You wanted a letter, Melody, well here’s what you’re getting: what you deserve.” A hot tear streaked down her cheek and she swiped it away.
The Doctor was silent next to her for a long moment before taking her hands in his. “River, life is a pile of good things and bad things—”
“Oh for god’s sake, don’t philosophise.” It sounded harsher than she had intended.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Are you happy?”
“I don’t know.”
Post
Pairing: River Song/The Doctor, Amy Pond/Rory Williams
Length: 5K words
Author on LJ: easytheretyger
Author Website: Master list
Why this must be read: Headcanon accepted. This fic--which sees River packing up her parents' house post-TATM and wondering where their farewell note to her is (if it even exists)--sort of broke my heart and pieced it back together again. I love stories that flesh out and balance her marriage to the Doctor and that give him the chance to support her in turn. And the illustrations of River's variable childhood leave so much to the imagination while feeling complete.
A half hour later she was sitting on her parents’ made bed. The clothes in the wardrobe were still untouched, and a thick pile of letters tied with string sat in her lap. She’d counted twice: sixty-two of them, each addressed to Melody Pond. She knew when they had been written, she had been there as Mels, witnessing her mother tear herself apart writing letters to her lost baby. But she didn’t know that Amy had held onto them, or how many there were—one for every day she waited for the Doctor to return with news of her baby. Guilt twisted in River’s stomach.
“Hi.”
He’d done it again—snuck up on her—but this time she couldn’t muster a smile for him. Without hesitation he moved across to sit next to her on the bed, nudging her into scooching over, and put an arm around her shoulder. She rested her head against him, hearing the soothing canter of his hearts in his chest.
“What are they?” he asked.
“Letters Amy wrote while you were searching for me as a baby.”
He swallowed heavily. “Oh. There are a lot of them.”
“Yeah. She took it really hard; they both did. This was her outlet I suppose.” River toyed with the loops of string, half wishing he hadn’t come, because the stack of paper on her knee was the very last straw—she couldn’t hold the hurt inside any longer. “I hated you so much at the time for what you had done to them, but it wasn’t you, was it? It was me. You begged me to let you find me; you were desperate and I wouldn’t—”
He stroked her hair. “River, you told me then that I had to trust you. That everything would work out, and it would all be worth it. What’s changed? Is it the fact that they’re…”
River shook her head and lifted the letters up by the string then dropped them back into her lap. “You know, I was quite upset they hadn’t left a letter for me. You got yours, and my grandparents got theirs but there wasn’t one for me. At least that’s what I thought. But—” She was aware that her voice was cracking but she couldn’t hold the flood of emotion back any longer. “It’s like sixty-two pieces of tangible evidence of how much pain I caused them. You wanted a letter, Melody, well here’s what you’re getting: what you deserve.” A hot tear streaked down her cheek and she swiped it away.
The Doctor was silent next to her for a long moment before taking her hands in his. “River, life is a pile of good things and bad things—”
“Oh for god’s sake, don’t philosophise.” It sounded harsher than she had intended.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Are you happy?”
“I don’t know.”
Post
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Sorry I'm so late responding. xx
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