Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

59(G)

Choosing not to dwell on the fact that he had effectively just classified life on the TARDIS as “normal” and life in Leadworth as “not,” Rory swiped a hand across his face and attempted to relax enough to fall asleep for the dozenth time. 

Ten minutes later, he gave up.

Rising from the bed (which, thankfully, was no longer a bunk) without waking a snoring Amy, Rory decided his best option was a trip to the kitchen for some warm milk, or possibly a glass of something a bit stronger.  Really, considering that he’d started the morning by vandalizing a wheat field and by late afternoon he had seen one of his best childhood friends transform into another person entirely - his daughter, at that - who then killed and resurrected the Doctor, it would have been remarkable if he had been able to sleep.

Not that any of that had stopped Amy.

As he descended the stairs leading down from the upper level into the Console Room, Rory heard the telltale creak of the repair swing on the lower level.  The Doctor was also still awake (though Rory couldn’t say with any certainty that the man ever slept) and clearly working to repair the damage Mels had done when she’d shot through the time rotor.

Mels.  Melody.  River Song.  Mels was Melody was River Song.

Suddenly, Rory realized he didn’t need a drink, he needed a talk.

“Doctor?” he called out tentatively.  “Are you there?”

“Rory?  I thought you and Amy went to bed hours ago,” came the Doctor’s disembodied voice from under the glass floor. 

“We did,” Rory said, sitting down on the jump seat, opting for comfort rather than proximity for this conversation.  He suspected the TARDIS was helping a bit with the acoustics, because normally it was more difficult to hear conversations between levels.  “I couldn’t sleep.”

“There’s milk in the kitchen, if you want to warm some up,” the Doctor offered, clearly having some experience with insomniac companions.

“Thanks, but I think I just need to talk about what happened today.  If...” Rory paused, suddenly realizing just how awkward this conversation might actually become.  It wasn’t as if he and the Doctor had ever been in the habit of confiding in one another to begin with, and there hadn’t been time yet to discuss the fact that the woman the Doctor spent an inordinate amount of time flirting with was actually Rory’s daughter.  No time like the present, Rory reminded himself before continuing.  “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” the Doctor replied, and Rory couldn’t quite make out the tone of his voice. 

“It’s just... Mels was Melody.  River was Melody.  All this time, she’s been right under our noses, and we had no idea.  I keep thinking of all the times I should have realized who she was...she must have thought we were such idiots for not figuring it out sooner.”

“I doubt she did, Rory.  Don’t forget, she needed you two to be kept in the dark in order to ensure her own timeline would remain intact.  If you or Amy had suspected, well, it could have changed everything.”

Rory nodded, forgetting for a moment that the Doctor couldn’t see him.  “The thing is, it all makes sense in retrospect.  I mean, of course it does.  But then I think about how she was today... how she tried to kill you - how she did kill you - and nothing makes sense any more.  I’ve known Mels since I was eight years old, and I never would have dreamed she’d be capable of killing someone.  Mayhem, yes, but murder?  Never.  But she did it, and now we’ve just left her in that hospital to, what?  Get better?  How do you heal that?”

The Doctor didn’t answer, but Rory wasn’t really talking to him anymore. 

“The thing is, today was the first time she’d met you.  Today was the first day she was River, or at least the first day she started becoming her.  And she killed you, Doctor.  The first time she met you, you died.  How did she look you in the eye every other time we’ve seen her, knowing what happened in the past, and also knowing that you hadn’t lived that part yet?”

Rory paused, less for a response from the Doctor and more because something was surfacing in his memory he couldn’t quite articulate yet.

“But, you know, she did sort of tell me that this was going to happen once.  It was back in 1969.  You sent us down into those tunnels, and she told me that the only thing that frightened her was knowing that some day she’d meet a version of you that wouldn’t know her.”  He paused, trying to remember the conversation as precisely as he could.  Something he’d just said had triggered the memory - what had it...

Oh.

“She said she thought it might just kill her when that happened.”

No response.

“Doctor... how exactly did you first meet River?  I mean, what happened when you met her for the first time?”

All of the sounds Rory had come to associate with TARDIS repairs - shifting cables, the clink of a part as it fell from the time rotor, the hum of the Doctor’s screwdriver - went silent.  Suddenly Rory was very glad he hadn’t decided to go down to the lower level.  The Doctor quite plainly wasn’t going to answer his question, and Rory didn’t think he could get out the thought that was suddenly occurring to him if he had to look the other man in the eye. 

“It all makes sense now, doesn’t it?  You two are back to front, mostly.  The first time you met her was probably the last time she met you.  It wouldn’t be the last time unless -” he broke off, taking a deep breath and trying to keep a rising sob out of his voice, “unless that was the day she died.”

The Doctor didn’t respond.  His silence was confirmation enough.

“You’ve known.  You’ve known this whole time how it was going to end for her.  You didn’t even know who she was - and she died.”

Both men sat in silence for several long minutes. 

Rory rose, not trusting himself to speak to the Doctor again. As he turned to the stairs a soft voice from below whispered, “Don’t tell Amy.”