A/N: I don't own it. I've just been on a River/Doctor obsession due to finals. Haha.

Chapter 1- The Son

Asher's hands shook as he tried to punch in numbers. The screen on the wristband blinked blue, fizzing, shocking his wrist before falling dead. "Damn," he swore, his head swimming with panic.

He shuffled through his mother's bag, looking for anything to get him out of here. He sat the bag on the damp and dirty floor, his hands nearly matching the floor they were so covered in grime.

He held a torch under his chin, shuffling through the bag. He found an old-fashioned cell phone. After turning it over in his hands, he pressed a button and it lit up, with full activation. He checked over his shoulder, still only hearing silence, before turning back to the phone.

There were only two numbers in it. One number was his own, a number he had especially for his mother to call him, from any place, in any time. The other was labeled only as "Sweetie."

He rang it.

"Hello?" A female Scottish accent rang through the line.

"Help me. I'm stuck, and River is gone." He whispered into the line, hoping against all hope that this person could help him.

"What about River? Who is this?" The woman on the line asked, sounding confused.

"I don't have time for this. Please. Can you get my coordinates from this?" He was desperate, and he heard a shuffle behind him.

"Hello?" A familiar male voice asked, almost demanding on the other end. "Who is this?"

The scuttling of the bug-like aliens beneath him made him jump, and he hardly even heard the man's question. "HELP ME!" He yelled, as a Salden Roach clamped hard onto his ankle.

He dropped the phone as he reached for his gun. Whipping it around, he pointed it down at the bug and shot, not even thinking about aim. The laser bullet missed, but lit up the drainage ditch before him, and the sight made him shiver in fear.

The Salda were standing behind their army of children with vice-like jaws. He kicked the one at his ankle against the wall, and its grip loosened for a moment.

One of the Salda pulled an oozing gun and settled it at Asher's chest. He shot his own blaster before the giant bug could get a shot off, but his aim was wide. As the bug set to recoil, the sound of mechanical wheezing filled the air, and he could taste the familiar flavor of the time vortex. His head spun.

A blue box appeared between he and his enemy.

A door opened, and a familiar head peeped out. The newcomer peered back at the alien attackers and then focused on the dirty boy with a bleeding ankle. "Oh my. Well come on then." The man reached a hand out, which the stranded boy grabbed with relief.

He fell onto the ground once he was inside the blue box, barely even registering the sound of the door closing or the whirring as the engines of this machine were activated. His mother's bag was next to him, spilling out, revealing his meager supplies.

He threw up, his stomach rejecting the day he had experienced, and he realized that he had been panicking continuously for the last twelve hours. He shivered, feeling sick still.

A hand was on his back, he realized, and he turned to see a beautiful redheaded woman rubbing his back. "Don't worry about that." She nodded toward his mess. Her familiar accent was comforting as she talked him off of the ground. "Come on now." She pulled his elbow, trying to get him up.

He finally looked at the world around him, the world in the blue box. Perhaps he would have found himself in awe on a normal day, but this day had left him tired, and he had seen fantastic things before.

He found the man who saved him and smiled. "Thank you, Doctor."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "No problem." He cleared his throat. "You know me?"

The younger man frowned. "Yes. Of course—" Suddenly, he understood, and his eyebrows rose. "You haven't met me yet."

His mother had told him that this day would come, a day when his friend the Doctor would not know him. He had thought it would be fun to know more than the Doctor for once, but now he just found it sad. He was tired and scared, and he could use a Doctor he knew.

"No, I'm afraid not," the Doctor stepped toward him, surveying him the way that he always did, but his gaze was more curious than the usual concerned. "Who are you?"

He wiped his hands on his pants nervously, conscious that this was the Doctor's first impression of him. "My name is Asher Song, sir. My mother is River Song."