AN ~ WHOOT! Just got back from a holiday in Paris and watched the last two episodes of DW. OMG POOR RIVER * hugs * I loved those episodes. I can't wait until 'the question is asked'...ooooh what a chilling question!

Sorry I haven't been writing much I have been sooooo busy. Year eleven just totally sucks. It's work work work. I mean, there's fun in there, just no relaxation.I miss it. I have a maths exam in two days * laughs deliriously *

I just had to write a short fic about 'The Wedding of River Song' IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN IT DO NOT READ THIS! MAJOR SPOILERS!

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, or a Tardis diary, or a Sonic Screwdriver...but I do own 'Midnight' and 'Turn Left' in French! PS: the first two sections in italics are dialogue from the episode. I take no credit for them :)

.o.o.o.

The Woman Who Didn't Kill the Doctor

River Song fought the suit. She fought it every step of the way as it forced her back into the ocean, away from the lifeless body of the Doctor. She knew he was really inside it. He knew he was really safe. But they didn't. Amy and Rory – her mother and father – they had no idea their best friend was still alive, and they never would. They never could.

Perhaps that was better, though, than her fate. She knew he was alive, but she would never see the Doctor again – not herDoctor, not the way he was when he wrapped his bowtie around her hand and kissed her, man and wife. Their timelines had crossed, and now she was going backwards. One day soon, she was going to meet a version of the Doctor who had no idea who she was. One day soon, her heart would break again.

She was underwater now. She could feel the faint tingle of the Silence bringing her back...where? Home? She thought of the Tardis for a moment, and her willpower left her. She closed her eyes and surrendered. She didn't have the heart to fight any longer.

You are forgiven. Always and completely forgiven.

"Not for this," she murmured back to him, looking around for his deceptively youthful face. "I killed you. I didn't tell them. I cannot be forgiven for this."

I will suffer if I have to kill you.

More than every living thing in the universe?

Yes.

Tears stung her eyes as she recalled the recognition in his face at that moment. Just as she had promised herself, pain like the most indescribable torture latched itself to her heart. Dispair. Guilt. It drowned her even as the water disappeared from around her and stark prison walls began to form.

"Doctor River Song, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of the Time Lord known as The Doctor. You will not receive a trial. You do not have the right to silence..."

The voice went on, but she ignored it. She did not look for its source. She simply followed the wishes of whoever was shoving her down the hallway. More and more she felt the Doctor may really be dead.

She remembered in a flash of vividness his body sprawled on the sand, hearts cut short, regeneration halted. Dead. Was that her memory, though, or was it Future River's? Or was it from a different time, a world that no longer existed?

She remembered her mother, young Amy, sprinting across the sand to try and save her friend. The sobbing. The screaming. The rocking. The begging. She didn't care whose memory that was. It was murder in itself.

She was pulled out of the space suit and dragged to her cell. Her guards left her alone, curled up on the bed like a child, crying as if she was slowly and painfully dying.

"Doctor! Help me!" she wailed. Her broken scream echoed from the walls but was not replied. River refused to surrender to her loneliness. "Save me!DOCTOR!"

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to contain any more cries. This was not like her. She refused to fall apart.

...But what else was there to do?

Suddenly, an old, familiar whirring made her jump from her bed. She shoved her way out of the door – her guards hadn't bothered to close it – and sprinted down the hall blindly following the sound.

By the time she got there, the faint outline of the Tardis had disappeared. Written with a finger in the fog on the window, in an unmistakable scrawl, was a message.

Time cannot be rewritten. Write it well.

On the floor under the words was a pen designed like the Sonic Screwdriver – to match the Tardis diary, she assumed – and around it was tied the Doctor's blue bowtie. The one they had used for their marriage.

Blinking back more tears – sweet now rather than sorrowful – River picked up the gift like a most treasured wonder and, clutching it to her chest, returned to her cell. A backpack with a handful of her belongings was already waiting for her: resting on top of it all was the Tardis journal. She hadn't written much since Berlin. She'd been busy being kidnapped and escaping and such. Luckily, she had a very good memory, lots of time, and nothing better to do.

She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and shut her eyes for a moment. The Doctor was there, in her head, running around the Tardis console with that ridiculously unbalanced gait of his. She smiled, and to the empty air, murmured:

"See you soon, Sweetie."

She fell asleep, the pen and diary still crossed over her chest.

Around her, the Silence crawled down the walls like spiders. They gathered around her bed and watched her for a few moments, and then their leader spoke. With a spindly finger, he stroked a curly lock of hair from her face. He leant right in to her ear, as if he was expecting her to hear him. He spoke with a gruff voice, a rasping voice – the voice of death.

"Silence will fall when the question is asked."

"WhoistheDoctor?" asked the one beside him. Soon, the whole room full of Silence took up the chant.

"Doctor who? Doctor who? Doctor who?"

River slept on through.