Helen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
helishdreams) wrote2011-12-23 12:57 pm
helishdreams) wrote2011-12-23 12:57 pm
Entry tags:
love those rainy nights; [river/doctor]
love those rainy nights river/doctor, g, 1855
Rain never fazed River. Until it did.
(a/n: random instances of river's life surrounding rain. And the Doctor. Simultaneously contains more angst and fluff than I intended, but what can you do.)
Rain didn't faze River, it never had. She wasn't vain enough to worry what it would do to her hair (it would do what it pleased regardless of the weather), and she didn't get sick easily; and after all, it was just water. As she'd experienced it, it remained the same. Still falling from the sky, still wet, and still hiding tears.
(The Doctor would happily argue with the first two points, but she'd never tell him about the third)
Not since she was little had she hid under her covers as the rain poured down outside. That's where she was when her mother found her, her mop of blonde curly hair obscuring her face. Her mother had laughed that soft tinkling laugh of hers and gently pulled her from her bed. River remembers her mother, warm and comforting, holding her hand as they walked together through the wet garden.
She found a frog that evening; small and slimy, it croaked gently as River tore her hand from her mothers, splashing through the mud to recover the poor thing. As her mother softly reassured her that yes, frogs did like the rain, River vowed never to be afraid of the rain again. If something as small and helpless as the frog could enjoy the rain, then she could too.
(Neither River nor her mother noticed her father leaning against the side of the house, seemingly oblivious to the pouring rain. He watched as his family, his girls, played in the garden, chasing each other this way and that, finally falling onto the muddy grass exhausted. They laughed and laughed and laughed, and if it wasn't raining, he could've sworn tears fell down his cheeks. He'd always been too sentimental.)
When she told this story to the Doctor years later, he'd laughed at her. When pressed for details, he began to explain about all the different dangerous types of frogs, and how humans living in rainforests many centuries before had dipped their arrows in frog poison to ensure a quicker death. 'If I were a frog,' he concluded gently, 'I wouldn't be afraid of rain either.' But she didn’t take well to being patronised, and he yelped out in pain as her foot made swift connection with his shin.
'It was meant to be a compliment,' he muttered.
‘Turns out there was reason to fear the rain’ she muttered.
‘Really?’
‘Spoilers,’ she sighed.
Rain didn’t faze River. Until it did.
It was raining the night they met. Or rather, the night she met him.
River Song, all hair and attitude, smaller than him at seventeen, but no less brave. Or that's what she'd have him believe. She smiled cheekily at him before running back into the burning building, feeling her heartbeat quicken as he gave a yell, marred with pain she didn’t understand.
But as she swiftly kicked down the front door, her smile faded. The hallway was filled with smoke so thick, she could barely see across. The door to the kitchen was shut, but glowing faintly with the fire she knew was blazing behind it. She crossed the atrium in quick strides of false hope. Her mind slowly numbed itself as she reached the staircase which used to lead to her parents’ bedroom. She refused to acknowledge fire damage, skipping the first step and leaping onto the second. There was a distant roar as the bedroom door burst open, flames spilling out, and licking the wall as the banister caught alight. She couldn’t think, everything suddenly went blank. Without thinking, she made to move towards the fire, not caring anymore. She had to get up there- she had to save them.
But all at one, the Doctor had grabbed her from behind, strong arms wrapping around small frame. She heard herself scream, felt herself try to rip herself from his grasp, but to no avail. The fire closed in from all sides, and he threw her through the front door onto the wet ground. Before she could get up, he covered her body with his just as the building behind them exploded in a green fireball.
Even in the rain the explosion burned brighter than anything she'd ever imagined. The noise was so great it seemed to rip the very air apart, and she could only look back in horror at the devastation that remained. No...
('Calcon Particles,' the Doctor would tell her later. 'Invented two hundred years after your time; I'd tracked them there in hope of finding a Donyptia, but I found you instead.' He ruffled her hair affectionately, and she tried not to smile. She was only nineteen then, and still prone to sulking.)
The rain fell and fell and fell, soaking them both to the core and she made up her mind. She pushed the Doctor off her. She did not thank him. His hand reached for her shoulder, presumably to comfort her- but it was a comfort that she did not want. Did not need. Her eyes hardened as she slapped his hand away, pushing him harshly out of the way and stormed away from the house, away from the rain, away from him.
He recovered quickly, but couldn’t follow immediately. Once the particles were secured he tried to find her, but she’d vanished from sight. He’d nearly given up, but as he glanced around the garden one last time, it hit him.
He approached carefully, the TARDIS’ door was opened slightly, its soft light was spilling onto the grass outside. He pulled the door open properly and slipped inside. River was pacing around the console, impatiently flicking switches and pulling levels, scowl etched onto her face. He felt a pull in one of his hearts as he took in her face: still wet from the rain, he couldn’t tell whether she was crying or not- but her expression was not one of pain, instead one of anger. She scarcely glanced up as the door slammed shut, nor as he joined her on the raised platform, but she addressed him with a directness in her voice the Doctor knew all too well.
‘You said it was a time machine. Where’s the ignition? Half an hour should do it.’
But he remained silent, approaching silently, and stood behind her, gently pulling her hand away from the controls. ‘I can’t.’
She whipped around, forcing him to take a step backwards as spoke menacingly. ‘But you said it was a time machine. How else did you get here?’ But he remained impassive, and after a split second of concern, her face re-adjusted. ‘If you won’t help me, I’ll just do it myself. She pulled a gun out of her pants, and turned away from him placing it on the console where he could see it but not reach it before her. ‘So where’s the manual?’
Somehow she managed to find the only drawer (he’d always suspected the TARDIS had favoured her) and began to rummage through it, the Doctor watching on sadly. ‘A supernova…’ he mumbled, then said, loud voice echoing off the high ceiling, ‘Listen to me, River, River.’
He was behind her in an instant, gripping her shoulders with his large hands. She didn’t reach for the gun, but glanced at it briefly. ‘We can’t do anything. What happened, happened. You can’t cross your own timeline. It’s not-’ he faltered, feeling her begin to shake beneath his hands, ‘-it doesn’t work like that.
There was silence, then she whipped around, but grabbed her once more, holding her away from him as she yelled. ‘No. No! You can’t do that.’
'River...’
‘You can’t show up, an idiot with a bow tie and a time machine, and kill my parents, then not fix it!’
‘I’m sorry.’ It was redundant, but had to be said. She needed to know.
‘Sorry won’t bring them back!’
‘Neither can you.’ And then something changed. She sagged in his hands, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Instinctively he pulled her to his chest, cradling her gently.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered.
I’m sorry I had to save you.
It’s many years later (at least ten for River, and around six for the Doctor) and they’re travelling together. It’s just the two of them now, and he’s finally gotten used to it.
‘Sweetie?'
'Hmm?'
'I think we have a leak.'
'What?'
'The TARDIS, it's leaking.'
‘River, where’s the manual?!’
‘Second star to the right. Straight on ‘til morn.’
‘Are you making fun of me?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well then tell me where the manual is.’
‘You thew it into a supernova.’
‘Oh. Right. ... River?’
‘Yes?’
‘... Nothing. I’ve got this one.’
Six hours later (three spent crawling around the ventilation shafts in search for the source, two spent arguing about it, and one spent fixing a completely unrelated leak) she'd finally given up. River flopped into the chair in the control room as the Doctor started searching for access hatch into the basemen both of them cursing each other, initially under their breath’s, but growing steadily louder.
’River, this is all your fault.’
’Oh, my fault now? And how exactly does that work?’
‘Well, if you hadn’t found that stupid leak, we wouldn’t worrying about it!’
‘Excuse me for wanting to be dry while I slept!’
‘You’re excused!’
‘What?’
‘Oh forget it.’ And he turned away from her, all sonic-ing forgotten as started he using the screwdriver as a hammer, uselessly banging on the TARDIS floor.
It was only when she decided to step outside for a minute, unable to escape the utter exhaustion and frustration she felt at him, that she discovered the problem.
They'd landed in a puddle.
‘Doctor?’
She stood just outside the TARDIS, and he eventually stuck his head out of the door. He looked at her, annoyance etched into his face- until his gaze fell to the puddle at his feet.
'Oh.'
It had started to rain. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, still standing in the doorway. Rolling her eyes, she pulled him from the TARDIS into the rain by his lapels. After all that he deserved a little drenching. His hair was soaked in an instant, and it fell onto his face. She couldn’t help it- she just laughed, and reached to push it away. But his hand caught hers, holding her waist with the other hand and drawing her closer.
‘I’m sorry I yelled,’ he whispered.
She’d never been one for apologies, but as they stood there, the rain falling down on the two of them, she realised that she didn’t seem to mind.
An hour later they sat by the fire, shivers fading as they huddled close together. They were sharing one huge warm blanket, and River rested her head on the Doctor’shoulder as he pulled her closer. You know, maybe she didn’t even mind about the rain.
Rain never fazed River. Until it did.
(a/n: random instances of river's life surrounding rain. And the Doctor. Simultaneously contains more angst and fluff than I intended, but what can you do.)
Rain didn't faze River, it never had. She wasn't vain enough to worry what it would do to her hair (it would do what it pleased regardless of the weather), and she didn't get sick easily; and after all, it was just water. As she'd experienced it, it remained the same. Still falling from the sky, still wet, and still hiding tears.
(The Doctor would happily argue with the first two points, but she'd never tell him about the third)
Not since she was little had she hid under her covers as the rain poured down outside. That's where she was when her mother found her, her mop of blonde curly hair obscuring her face. Her mother had laughed that soft tinkling laugh of hers and gently pulled her from her bed. River remembers her mother, warm and comforting, holding her hand as they walked together through the wet garden.
She found a frog that evening; small and slimy, it croaked gently as River tore her hand from her mothers, splashing through the mud to recover the poor thing. As her mother softly reassured her that yes, frogs did like the rain, River vowed never to be afraid of the rain again. If something as small and helpless as the frog could enjoy the rain, then she could too.
(Neither River nor her mother noticed her father leaning against the side of the house, seemingly oblivious to the pouring rain. He watched as his family, his girls, played in the garden, chasing each other this way and that, finally falling onto the muddy grass exhausted. They laughed and laughed and laughed, and if it wasn't raining, he could've sworn tears fell down his cheeks. He'd always been too sentimental.)
When she told this story to the Doctor years later, he'd laughed at her. When pressed for details, he began to explain about all the different dangerous types of frogs, and how humans living in rainforests many centuries before had dipped their arrows in frog poison to ensure a quicker death. 'If I were a frog,' he concluded gently, 'I wouldn't be afraid of rain either.' But she didn’t take well to being patronised, and he yelped out in pain as her foot made swift connection with his shin.
'It was meant to be a compliment,' he muttered.
‘Turns out there was reason to fear the rain’ she muttered.
‘Really?’
‘Spoilers,’ she sighed.
Rain didn’t faze River. Until it did.
It was raining the night they met. Or rather, the night she met him.
River Song, all hair and attitude, smaller than him at seventeen, but no less brave. Or that's what she'd have him believe. She smiled cheekily at him before running back into the burning building, feeling her heartbeat quicken as he gave a yell, marred with pain she didn’t understand.
But as she swiftly kicked down the front door, her smile faded. The hallway was filled with smoke so thick, she could barely see across. The door to the kitchen was shut, but glowing faintly with the fire she knew was blazing behind it. She crossed the atrium in quick strides of false hope. Her mind slowly numbed itself as she reached the staircase which used to lead to her parents’ bedroom. She refused to acknowledge fire damage, skipping the first step and leaping onto the second. There was a distant roar as the bedroom door burst open, flames spilling out, and licking the wall as the banister caught alight. She couldn’t think, everything suddenly went blank. Without thinking, she made to move towards the fire, not caring anymore. She had to get up there- she had to save them.
But all at one, the Doctor had grabbed her from behind, strong arms wrapping around small frame. She heard herself scream, felt herself try to rip herself from his grasp, but to no avail. The fire closed in from all sides, and he threw her through the front door onto the wet ground. Before she could get up, he covered her body with his just as the building behind them exploded in a green fireball.
Even in the rain the explosion burned brighter than anything she'd ever imagined. The noise was so great it seemed to rip the very air apart, and she could only look back in horror at the devastation that remained. No...
('Calcon Particles,' the Doctor would tell her later. 'Invented two hundred years after your time; I'd tracked them there in hope of finding a Donyptia, but I found you instead.' He ruffled her hair affectionately, and she tried not to smile. She was only nineteen then, and still prone to sulking.)
The rain fell and fell and fell, soaking them both to the core and she made up her mind. She pushed the Doctor off her. She did not thank him. His hand reached for her shoulder, presumably to comfort her- but it was a comfort that she did not want. Did not need. Her eyes hardened as she slapped his hand away, pushing him harshly out of the way and stormed away from the house, away from the rain, away from him.
He recovered quickly, but couldn’t follow immediately. Once the particles were secured he tried to find her, but she’d vanished from sight. He’d nearly given up, but as he glanced around the garden one last time, it hit him.
He approached carefully, the TARDIS’ door was opened slightly, its soft light was spilling onto the grass outside. He pulled the door open properly and slipped inside. River was pacing around the console, impatiently flicking switches and pulling levels, scowl etched onto her face. He felt a pull in one of his hearts as he took in her face: still wet from the rain, he couldn’t tell whether she was crying or not- but her expression was not one of pain, instead one of anger. She scarcely glanced up as the door slammed shut, nor as he joined her on the raised platform, but she addressed him with a directness in her voice the Doctor knew all too well.
‘You said it was a time machine. Where’s the ignition? Half an hour should do it.’
But he remained silent, approaching silently, and stood behind her, gently pulling her hand away from the controls. ‘I can’t.’
She whipped around, forcing him to take a step backwards as spoke menacingly. ‘But you said it was a time machine. How else did you get here?’ But he remained impassive, and after a split second of concern, her face re-adjusted. ‘If you won’t help me, I’ll just do it myself. She pulled a gun out of her pants, and turned away from him placing it on the console where he could see it but not reach it before her. ‘So where’s the manual?’
Somehow she managed to find the only drawer (he’d always suspected the TARDIS had favoured her) and began to rummage through it, the Doctor watching on sadly. ‘A supernova…’ he mumbled, then said, loud voice echoing off the high ceiling, ‘Listen to me, River, River.’
He was behind her in an instant, gripping her shoulders with his large hands. She didn’t reach for the gun, but glanced at it briefly. ‘We can’t do anything. What happened, happened. You can’t cross your own timeline. It’s not-’ he faltered, feeling her begin to shake beneath his hands, ‘-it doesn’t work like that.
There was silence, then she whipped around, but grabbed her once more, holding her away from him as she yelled. ‘No. No! You can’t do that.’
'River...’
‘You can’t show up, an idiot with a bow tie and a time machine, and kill my parents, then not fix it!’
‘I’m sorry.’ It was redundant, but had to be said. She needed to know.
‘Sorry won’t bring them back!’
‘Neither can you.’ And then something changed. She sagged in his hands, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Instinctively he pulled her to his chest, cradling her gently.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered.
I’m sorry I had to save you.
It’s many years later (at least ten for River, and around six for the Doctor) and they’re travelling together. It’s just the two of them now, and he’s finally gotten used to it.
‘Sweetie?'
'Hmm?'
'I think we have a leak.'
'What?'
'The TARDIS, it's leaking.'
‘River, where’s the manual?!’
‘Second star to the right. Straight on ‘til morn.’
‘Are you making fun of me?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well then tell me where the manual is.’
‘You thew it into a supernova.’
‘Oh. Right. ... River?’
‘Yes?’
‘... Nothing. I’ve got this one.’
Six hours later (three spent crawling around the ventilation shafts in search for the source, two spent arguing about it, and one spent fixing a completely unrelated leak) she'd finally given up. River flopped into the chair in the control room as the Doctor started searching for access hatch into the basemen both of them cursing each other, initially under their breath’s, but growing steadily louder.
’River, this is all your fault.’
’Oh, my fault now? And how exactly does that work?’
‘Well, if you hadn’t found that stupid leak, we wouldn’t worrying about it!’
‘Excuse me for wanting to be dry while I slept!’
‘You’re excused!’
‘What?’
‘Oh forget it.’ And he turned away from her, all sonic-ing forgotten as started he using the screwdriver as a hammer, uselessly banging on the TARDIS floor.
It was only when she decided to step outside for a minute, unable to escape the utter exhaustion and frustration she felt at him, that she discovered the problem.
They'd landed in a puddle.
‘Doctor?’
She stood just outside the TARDIS, and he eventually stuck his head out of the door. He looked at her, annoyance etched into his face- until his gaze fell to the puddle at his feet.
'Oh.'
It had started to rain. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, still standing in the doorway. Rolling her eyes, she pulled him from the TARDIS into the rain by his lapels. After all that he deserved a little drenching. His hair was soaked in an instant, and it fell onto his face. She couldn’t help it- she just laughed, and reached to push it away. But his hand caught hers, holding her waist with the other hand and drawing her closer.
‘I’m sorry I yelled,’ he whispered.
She’d never been one for apologies, but as they stood there, the rain falling down on the two of them, she realised that she didn’t seem to mind.
An hour later they sat by the fire, shivers fading as they huddled close together. They were sharing one huge warm blanket, and River rested her head on the Doctor’shoulder as he pulled her closer. You know, maybe she didn’t even mind about the rain.