She hated him. She hated him more than she hated herself. She wanted to smash and burn and dance in the remains of his body. She wanted to main, torture and kill. She had been through it all herself – what right did he think he had not to as well? She was starving and thirsting for blood and she knew whose she wanted: his.
He thought he was so damn intelligent and he was so condescending at times she could shoot him a million times and still smile with mirth and delight afterwards. That stupid lopsided smirk when he thought he was being oh so impressive and enchanting, but she just wanted to rip that smirk from his face and watch him run around and shriek in agony. She wanted him to never smile or laugh again – she wanted his life to be harder and more difficult than all the crap she had been through for him.
She had been through so much for him; risked her life more times than she wanted to remember. When had she allowed it to happen for her life to revolve entirely around a man? Wasn't she the most independent person ever? And at first she thought he was ever so wonderful but then she realized just how cold and angry and repulsive he could be. He was a mad man, an actual mad man who delighted in disasters and made fun in times of danger – the one thing that they kind of shared in common, but all she cared for now was to see his disaster, to watch as he lost everything. And she knew exactly how to do that.
She wrenched herself from her chair and stormed magnificently down the corridor of the impeccable time machine. The TARDIS attempted to stop her, by shaking and convulsing and twirling upside down, but she remained rooted to the spot, nothing was going to stop her. She ran a finger across the edge of her gun and smirked widely in content. She knew exactly what to do.
He was running wildly around the TARDIS as she entered the console room. She was so fed up of his constant show and the way he tried to be so incredible and amazing and all he did was brag and brag. He didn't need to run around, the stupid man. She stomped down the glass steps, cracking the third from the bottom slightly with her five inch spiked heel.
She had 'dressed up' as he would've put it. She wanted the last thing for him to feel was lust for her and then jealously of himself, jealously of the one that got to have her. She wanted him to realize that he would never have her. She was too much for him.
She wore a long, red, very low cut dress. It flapped around her ankles as she almost ran over to him. She had tied up her hair, but some of her wild curls were bouncing in her face. Long, ruby earrings fell delicately from her ears and sparkled in the light of the TARDIS.
She strolled over, trying to keep her expression impassive and blank. She walked behind him when he halted, and rested her head on his shoulder and murmured,
He leapt back in shock and she delighted in seeing him only this tiny bit frightened. She could actually hear the rate of his hearts increasing and they were pounding and crashing against his chest cavity. He turned after a few seconds and said,
'Hello River, sorry you scared me. How are you?'
'Oh, never better Sweetie,' she whispered alluringly and laughed as he looked her up and down, blushing slightly.
He placed his index finger on her pouting lips before River could open her mouth to continue, and ran off around the TARDIS console again. Oh, he was going to pay for that - why did he never stay still and listen to her, not even once. And then, he put the cherry on top of the murder flavoured pie.
'I managed to fix that circuit that you broke last week,' he yelled across the console. Rage and fury washed over her and embedded in her mind and in an act of desperation, she ripped the gun from its holster on her hip and pointed it directly at him. She stayed completely still, aiming the gun at his head, which was currently hidden slightly behind the screen.
He didn't look up or realize what she was doing until, annoyed, she made a small noise in the back of his throat and he stared at her, his eyes bulging and popping out of his skull. He looked at her in terror and fear and he moved towards her slightly, waving his hands around wildly.
'River, please think about this before you do anything,' he begged slowly, his voice quivering and getting higher and higher with every syllable.
She shook her head ferociously, 'I already have. It's too late for you to say anything.'
'You don't need to do anything River, consider it please,' he mumbled back, attempting to make her put the gun down and lower it, 'You don't want to make yourself suffer.'
A smile crept across her face and her features went evil and contorted into a grimace, 'Oh believe me, I'm not going to make myself suffer. I already have, for my entire life; I'm not going to put up with it anymore.'
He trembled, 'What are you going to do?'
'I'm going to make you suffer Doctor. You can take your pick,' she said, her voice trembling suddenly with what she was about to say, 'Sacrifice yourself,' she pointed the gun at his head again, only two feet away from her, 'or sacrifice me.' She removed the gun from his face and pointed it at her temple and cocked it.
He jumped out towards her, attempting to prise the gun from her cold fingers. She stepped backwards, avoiding his clutches and shaking her head in a playful manner. He looked deep into her sapphire eyes and saw the defiance and the hatred and his insides turned to ice. He really hadn't thought she was being serious, but now he realized she was a hundred percent serious. There was no way out of this. He shook his head in disbelief and tears of mayhem and utter scepticism appearing in his murky green eyes.
She smiled ruefully at his reaction; his whole body was literally trembling with fear. She was making him hurt and it made her happy, it made her laugh. She chuckled insanely, but was cut off when The Doctor nervously said,
'What makes you think I would care if you killed yourself?'
An evil grimace crossed over her lips, 'I know you. And I know that you're bluffing.' She approached him, the gun still digging into the side of her head. She placed a hand on his chest and he felt a surge of relief surge through him; she was just joking, he tried to convince himself. Pretty vicious joke.
'You don't care about me? I already know that, otherwise you wouldn't have tortured me like this,' she murmured.
He looked bemused, 'How have I tortured you?'
Tears began to sprawl across her face, dripping down her cheeks. The sadistic, murderous expression on her face disappeared and he leant down, placing a warm hand on her cheek, bringing their faces together.
'Don't patronize me Doctor. Every second of every day,' her voice shaking with passion, 'you have ruined my life for years on end. And I'm going to hurt you forever,' she whispered in his ear, and he ran back in fear again. She smiled, 'Remember Doctor, you did this. I. Blame. You.'
She put the gun back up to her temple, winked at him, closed her eyes contentedly, and before he could run and grab her wrist, she fired.
The Doctor roared in horror as her blood splattered across the ceiling and walls and she collapsed on the floor, blood specking her red dress, a cruel smirk still etched across her lips.
River Song awoke with a start, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness shrouding the room. She was tucked underneath a large double duvet, her shape melting into the mattress. An arm was wrapped gently around her shoulders. She looked to her left and almost screamed when she saw The Doctor lying shirtless next to her, fast asleep. She turned away from him and thought about her dream, the horrific nightmare. The nightmare, it had felt so real, and the emotion had felt so true. She was so scared. She trembled from the remembrance of her hate and anger and she shook violently in oppression,
'River, Sweetie, are you okay?' his voice pierced through the silence and his hands rolled her over to face him. He saw that her face was imprinted and coated with tears and he clutched her into an awkward hug.
'Nothing, just a…really bad dream,' she replied, her voice cracking.
'Don't worry, it was only a dream. Come here, nothing can hurt you when you're with me,' he said, sitting up against the backboard of the bed. He grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap, curling his fingers in her hair, 'Tell me what happened.'
'No, I can't, I c-can't,' she stammered.
He sighed, but accepted this; some things with River would always be a secret. He hugged her gently and shushed her soothingly and she cried. He kissed her temple, exactly where the barrel of the gin had been placed, the cold, unforgiving metal almost burning into her skin and where the bullet had been fired into. A shiver ran through her spine before, slowly, she fell into a deep sleep in his arms.