Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

5(G)

you’re what I couldn’t find

“Dr. Song!” the nurse greets her warmly and River looks up with a smile as she bustles across the room, her habit rustling as she adjusts the medication pump next to the bed, and checks the vitals of the man lying in it. “No change today, hmm?”  She frowns – well, as well as a feline species can really – and glances at River, shaking her head.

River nods, wondering what this nurse assumes about her. The nurse squeezes her shoulder as she walks by, before she leaves the room in silence once more, only the humming of support machines and dripping on medical IVs left in her wake.

“Well sweetie, I think half the nursing staff is convinced that I’m your wife, or girlfriend, or something equally ridiculous,” she laughs softly as she puts her journal down on the bedside table. “The truth is far stranger than the fiction I think. Of course it would get a whole lot more dramatic if you’d just wake up, honey.” She stands and moves to the side of the bed, her eyes tracing his features. Long sharp nose, close cropped hair – his face looks weathered. She doesn’t know what colour his eyes are – he’s never given her the pleasure.

She smoothes a hand down over his chest, until it stills, directly between his heartbeats. Her own hearts always seem to beat a little faster in response.  She’s been coming here for almost two years now – and he’s been here for three years before that. The Sisters of the Infinite Schism had a policy for comatose patients however – so long as there was brain activity, they would not remove him from life support. And he’d made small improvements over the years, really. The latest and greatest had been four months ago when he finally started breathing on his own. River had been  in a state that day, and she would never ever tell the doctors and nurses how she’d slipped him regeneration energy that day.

The practice had been forbidden, before the fall of Gallifrey. But she’d never been very good at following rules – obviously – and what was one more broken? Just one.

In the time since she’s been sorely tempted to try again. It helped him improve, but she’s not sure she can reproduce the effort. Regeneration is so tricky – it’s as liable to work as not. Just a trick – not everyone managed it.

“I just really need you to wake up, sweetie,” she whispers to his still form. “Come now, I don’t even know your name.” Her hand reaches up, brushing across his hair, his hair tickling her palm as she stares down at him. “Are you going to make me wait forever? Hard-to-get, I see how it is,” she teases gently.

She’s always talked to him – right from the start. She likes to think he can hear her.

She likes to think he knows.

~*~*~*~

She is hopelessly lost – the entire damn hospital (and she hates hospitals. The smell. The quiet. Why can’t she just die and regenerate? It’s a great form of health insurance!) is a maze of winding corridors and wrong floors and the University’s insurance form had said 2204, but she was having the most terrible luck finding it. “God damn it,” she mutters as she searches the hallways – you’d think for a hospital this big they’d at least have signs posted. “Inefficient, stupid buildings. Four thousand years ago they had signs – what’s so wrong with signs?” She halts at a terminal on the wall and glares at it.

“Signs are an outdated, overlooked use of wall space. Studies in 3489 by leading psychologist Hans Gambert concluded that wall space in medical facilities was best utilized by framed art, soothing in wall speakers that played music and-”

“It wasn’t an actual question,” she snaps at the terminal and the interface ceases to speak. “The wonders of technology. Computer, where is room 2204 located?”