Doctor Who: Our Time Machines
by: domina tempore
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all of its characters and locations etc. belong to their respective owners; I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended
Summary: We all have our time machines.
Author's Note: This little snippet was inspired by the quote below (which, amusingly enough, I read on someone's twitter). It's implied that River and the Doctor are married, and they have a normal home someplace, and a child; and River and their daughter only travel with the Doctor some of the time. I purposefully didn't name the little girl.
Oh for the record, I *never* do this. Like, never. I'm not big into "in the future we had this many kids and lots of adventures" fics – well, I'll read them, but I don't really write them ever – but this image in my head was so perfect…
Enough of my babbling. Enjoy! (:
"We all have our time machines. Some take us back; they're called memories. Some take us forward; they're called dreams."
- Jeremy Irons
River sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, smoothing the dark hair off her hot forehead. She'd woken up to the sound of her crying from a nightmare, and it had taken nearly ten minutes to calm her down and dry her tears. The little girl had finally had enough, though. She shuddered once more, then relaxed back against the pillow.
"Mama," she asked quietly, "why does Daddy leave in his TARDIS sometimes and leave us behind? Why can't we always go through time with him?"
River smiled sadly, meeting her daughter's wide green eyes. "We all have our time machines, sweetheart," she sighed. "Daddy just likes to use his to show off sometimes. He thinks that he knows what he's doing, bless him."
"Do you have a TARDIS too? Can we use it?"
"No, I'm afraid that the TARDIS is one of a kind. But you and I both have a different kind of time machine. Two of them! That's more than Daddy's TARDIS!" she winked, and the little girl laughed.
"What are ours called, Mama?"
"Well," River moved a little further onto the bed, her eyes growing bright with the light of storytelling. "There are two, like I said; one to take us forward, and one to take us back."
"What are they? Are they beautiful? Which one can take us back?"
"The ones that take us back are called memories," River explained.
"Yes. All of those amazing, special, totally mad times in our lives that we remember and love. We go back and visit them all the time in our minds, don't we? And they take us back."
"And what about the other one?" she asked, leaning forward. She was hanging onto every word that her mother said. River, in return, leaned forward and lowered her voice like she was about to tell a great secret. She loved watching her daughter's face light up.
"The ones that take us forward are called dreams," she whispered.
"Dreams," the child repeated thoughtfully. "But do they really work? Really?"
"They do," River promised. "Sometimes, dreams are what keep me alive."
Her daughter was quiet for a moment as she thought about this. Presently, she screwed their eyes shut, and a look of intense concentration covered her face.
River laughed softly. "What are you doing, love?"
"I'm dreaming for Daddy," she answered seriously. "I'm dreaming that he'll come back and take us with him on his TARDIS. Forever this time."
"Oh, darling…" River took her daughter's hands and rested her forehead against the child's. "Aren't we all?"