Burning Stars {A Doctor Who Fan Fiction} [REWRITE IN PROGRESS!]

Chapter 20

The Doctor watched helplessly as River piloted his TARDIS. He felt like he'd lost everything; he had lost his best friends.

The pair were silent. The Doctor was the first to speak up. "How...why don't I remember?" he asked in a whisper.

River knew what he was referring to. She'd imagined this conversation countless times, but never expected it to follow the deaths of her parents. She didn't answer, instead focusing on the TARDIS monitor.

"Why don't I remember?" the Doctor asked again, voice slightly louder, using more force. River remained unresponsive. He stepped up to her, thinking of being even louder, but he couldn't live with loud right now. "Why don't I remember our daughter?"

The question had been slowly eating away at him. It perplexed him, though he would never admit it aloud. He couldn't help but feel like not being able to recall ever having a child was some charade.

"You already know," River replied.

"That doesn't mean I understand why her existence was completely hidden from me," the Doctor said, his voice gaining a dark tone. "Would I ask for that? Missing out on her growing up? Not being a father?"

"You were," River responded quietly. "And you still are."

"What sort of father can't protect their child?" he asked again. He knew his emotions were getting themselves confused - a mix of anger, grief, remorse, and sentiment fueling his rage.

"You did," River said, adamant. Before either of them knew what was happening, her fingertips were brushing his temples.

Like a broken dam, memories flooded through the Doctor's mind. Images of a small child - a girl with his features, but with River's attitude - flared by him. It was undeniably Annabelle.

Certain remembrances stood out. The Doctor, sitting next to River, holding a newborn and happily announcing "We've really done it this time, haven't we?" The Doctor laying on the floor on his stomach, a book open in front of him, text facing a toddler. River teaching a child little tricks on flying the TARDIS. But one recollection seemed to emerge from the others; one he was meant to pay attention to.

A small scream erupted from down the hallway. The Doctor and River bolted from their shared bedroom, straight towards Annabelle's room. He scooped up his crying daughter quickly, trying to soothe her. She'd aged normally for three years; both River and the Doctor knew the Time Lord in her would kick in soon.

Annabelle had settled into the crook of the Doctor's neck, sobbing. "You wouldn't tell me!" she repeated through tears. Soon, after a solid fifteen minutes, Annabelle had calmed down in the Doctor's embrace, reduced to sniffles.

"What was it, darling?" the Doctor asked gently. "Was it a bad dream?" Annabelle's arms tightened around his neck; she nodded subtly into his shoulder and took a shaky breath.

"Y-you and Mummy were s-scary," she mumbled. "There were t-tally marks all o-over and you didn't know they were there."