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[attackbrows]

	You've reached Dr. Funkenstein. Expert on all things funkadelic. Please, by all means, save us both the hassle and don't leave a message.
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un: song | text

[spoilers]

[ It's ridiculously late. Or ridiculously early. Depending on your point of view. But she knows he'll be awake. She isn't sure any of them sleep anymore.

She's an expert at hiding what she's really thinking, what she's feeling, but she's also well aware how easily telepathic forms of communication can betray. And text, she thinks, won't allow the Doctor to read into tone or expression, if he's feeling so inclined. He does occasionally surprise her. ]

You aren't busy are you, Sweetie? I think we have a conversation to finish.

[ Now that they're (relatively) unobserved and there's no mission to distract them. ]

[attackbrows]

[Ugh. Linear time. Who keeps up with the hours and minutes like this? It’s all very…domestic. And the Doctor has reached that point of the day (or night) where he is counting the fibres on his plaid trousers.

He didn’t expect to receive a message out of the blue. But it’s River, and he’s lost count.]

'Busy' these days are starting to become an understatement. But you know where to find me.

[That being inside the lab storage unit. Because of course he'd make his own little science nook inside of a walk-in closet.]

[spoilers]

Don't I always?

[ And it isn't long before she's made her way into his hideaway, stopping just shy of fully invading his personal space.

Almost absently, she reaches out to smooth the fabric over his chest, an unconscious habit and the only outward sign of anxiousness she allows. ]

Are you working on anything special?

[attackbrows]

[He leans back in the office chair he’s pilfered from the main lab. A lap full of circuit boards and wires on top of his lap.

River’s hand against his chest always felt so normal, like taking a deep breath of air. As much as this body has its aversions to physical touch, River has a way of finding just the right spot for him to sink into.]

Isotemporal circuitry. [He says, soldering pieces of wiring against the boards.] Handy in a pinch, terrible icebreaker among the rest of the crew.

[A beat.]

Unless you’re interested in hearing me prattle about quantum vibrations fields?

[spoilers]

[ River hums faintly as if she's actually considering it before shaking her head. ] Maybe next time.

[ Rearranging bits and bobs, which she's sure the Doctor will complain about later, she makes space for herself to his side. She'd wanted this conversation, and now she doesn't know how to start.

The beginning? ] Doctor, you know where I am?

[ Not in the here, now, literal sense. Also, not really a question. ]

[attackbrows]

[His eyes shoot a glance at her. This conversation was bound to happen. He looks back at his haphazard project and responds with a simple:]

…No.

[The lack of River’s journal is enough for the Doctor to be cautious. They are, for all intents and purposes, reaching major spoilers within their respective journeys.]

It’s not like you to have your journal missing from this sort of chat.

[spoilers]

[ With a faint smile that fails to reach her eyes, River produces a familiar blue diary from...where does she always manage to hide that thing anyway? It's probably a little more worn than the last time he saw it, but maybe almost as worn as the first time. ]

It isn't missing, Sweetie. But we're not going to need it.

[attackbrows]

[He goes quiet for a moment. A rare occurrence for him, but this is a moment he dreaded for quite some time. A pang of regret hits his two hearts. The one thing he promised her was dinner in Darillium. He wonders that if the fear of losing her was so severe that he failed to miss out on a single promise.

Leaving his items to the side, the Doctor stands up. But his eyes divert elsewhere. He can't look at her. Not yet.]

River, I… [What is he to say at this point?] I’m sorry.

[spoilers]

I'm not looking for an apology, Doctor.

[ But perhaps she is because it comes out more sharply than she'd intended. She'd take a step back if she could, but she's already nearly against a wall. She takes a breath. ]

We both knew this day was coming. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it any more than I could, my love.

[ She's working her way around to the heart of what she really wants to ask. ]

I couldn't blame you, that you. Or even the last you. You're still so young. But you, Sweetie, you knew me best.

[ And she knows it isn't fair. They can't be that far yet. But for her, it's all long past. ]

[attackbrows]

[He detests this. There is nothing River Song has done wrong, and yet here she stands facing the consequences of knowing who the Doctor is. Her back is against the wall in more ways than one.]

River…

[It feels as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. This is not the same as usual where they are due to sync up their timelines. The threads of time have long been severed, leaving these two the outskirts of the universe.]

Did you enjoy it? Darillium?

[A vague enough question for River not to indulge in spoiler-y details. All he needs to know is if he made good on his promise.]

[spoilers]

[ She'd have an argument or two for that. There's plenty River has done wrong. But she's made it a practice to live her life in the moment, without regret or apology, one thing her upbringing had been very useful for.

Still, she hadn't asked for this. She isn't even certain she deserved it. And she still has a few things she'd like to say to him about it.

But damn him. She can feel the sting of tears she refuses to let fall as she nods, reminding herself one needs to breathe before they can speak. ]

Very much.

[ She shakes her head with a dry chuckle. ]

This isn't fair, you know.

He's the one I married. And he's wonderful, always an adventure. [ Set aside the jealousy for a moment, Doctor. ] I've always loved you, all of you. It's never mattered. You're all the same, really. But you were my husband.

[ Except he doesn't remember. And in some cruel twist, if he did, she's relatively sure it would mean forgetting Clara again. ]

[attackbrows]

[The Doctor isn’t fairing any better, feeling the tears prick by the corners of his eyes. River is right. This isn’t fair. Not for her. She has travelled across the universe with all her brilliance and fiery passion. Only for her to lay rest behind a series of complex coding and algorithms so the Doctor (selfishly) may never say goodbye to her.

His mind lingers to that time in The Library. Those last moments where he was handcuffed and unable to stop River from sacrificing herself. Her last words to words the Doctor:

You watch us run.]

I still am.

[The Doctor’s thumb massages the centre of his palm, slowly walking to approach her closely.]

Do you really think I would ever measure the length of who you are—who we are only by the pages of a book? [He stops in place.] River Song…

[Despite all the sorrow within his two hearts, his eyes remain reassuring to her.]

You are more than just a story.

[spoilers]

[ Somehow, she manages a faint smile. ]

Oh, Sweetie, I'm a legend.

[ She starts to lift a hand, then drops it again, her expression conflicted. How much can she tell him? How much should she tell him? Would any of it even matter when (or if) they eventually left this place?

River desperately wants the reassurance he's offering.

Finally, carefully, she places her palm on his chest. ]

You were my husband. Not just by title, Doctor.

[ And she misses him. She'd been missing him for so long now she's lost track. She can't help but be angry because, of all of them, he should have known better, known she wouldn't want to be put in another prison if his only intention was to leave here there. But now he's here in front of her, and all she really wants is to feel like she's home again. ]

[attackbrows]

[He laughs softly with a faint grin of his own.

She doesn’t have to say anything. Just her presence alone is enough solace for his hearts. What happens at this point is entirely up to them. She's here. At this very moment in time. Mangled timelines be damned.

They'll figure a way to hash out the details later. They always do.]

You realize how difficult planning for our next anniversary is going to be?

[spoilers]

Oh, I think I can make a few suggestions.

[ She leans into him. Because her hand's already on his chest. Because this face doesn't do hugs, but he's always made allowances for her. But mostly, because she's missed him. ]

I hate you.

[ It's muttered against his shoulder, somewhat discrediting the statement. Those words have always meant something else between them anyway. But he shouldn't think she isn't still mad at him. She absolutely is. She's just decided...she'll get around to yelling at him later. It can wait. ]