Author's Note: So, here's my newest story. It features a River/11 Ganger pairing, which has never been done before. If you don't yet understand how this could work; read on. This first chapter is pretty angst-ridden, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated:)

A set of lurid fingers fumbled through the patches of emerald colored grass.

Shifting his limp body back and forth, the perspiring man attempted to assuage the ravenous storm brewing from within his troubled mind.

Not only was his head throbbing madly, but his emotional state was that of complete chaos and disorientation.

It was as if a torrent of agony was stirring from within his brain, causing him an insurmountable amount of strife.

"It hurts! It hurts so much! But how? How can I even be here?" The bitter cries of the raggedy man permeated the previously silent air.

His tormented thoughts raged with broken memories of what he had assumed would have been the last moment of his miserable, pointless life.

Even amid the blinding blurs that seemed to threaten his sanity, the peculiar man could still recall the familiar sensation of terror that had corroded his hearts as his finger had pressed that dreadful button of his beloved sonic screwdriver, a necessary, but secretly gut wrenching feat that had reduced his newly formed body to nothing more than a puddle of white goo.

The choice to perform such an action had been inevitable, as he had been faithfully willing to sacrifice his insignificant life on behalf of his friends.

Shakily focusing his light eyes upon the pale texture of his natural appearing skin, the Almost Doctor remained bedazzled by the fact that he was alive, and stabilized, for that matter.

His treacherous thoughts then echoed back to the last words of another man in a bow tie.

"Your molecular structure can survive this, you know. It may not be the end."

Though he had been slightly aware of this possibility, it still shed no light as to how he had gotten to where he currently was.

Seeing as he was not making any progress, whatsoever, the raggedy man shuffled through the pockets of his tweed jacket.

"Come on! Where are you?" The Doctor muttered beneath his husky breath, perhaps a bit too loudly.

When his daft fingers brushed against a small alien gadget, the strange man hastily relinquished it, a ridiculous grin folding across his face.

Scanning the area, the eyes of the raggedy man steadily widened with a mixture of confusion and horror.

It was terribly eerie; he was completely certain that he had never witnessed such alarming readings, and yet why did they suddenly appear to be so familiar?

As the towering trees cast their shadows upon the odd figure, a series of a billion thoughts pulsated through his alien mind.

His head continued to throb, only worse than it had before, and he wished ever so much to suppress the nagging images that soon arose.

Most prevalent of all was the glistening face of his ginger haired companion.

The Doctor's hearts twisted in agony at the terrible thought of what had become of her.

If it had not been for Amy's mysterious pregnancy and the horrifying circumstances that shrouded it, he would never have existed in the first place.

But that doesn't matter…I'm here now and I'm alive…and I might as well accept that because that's a matter I'm willing to disregard for the moment. More importantly, what's become of Amy…and her child?

The silent ravings of the troubled man plagued him like a deadly disease. It was disconcerting to come to the realization that his beloved, feisty, red haired best friend was suffering beneath the control of possibly the most dangerous organization in existence.

But why? Why take her and the child? What could they possibly be up to and who are they, anyway?

Though he deeply longed for the answers to these questions from the very core of his being, the Doctor was beginning to understand that he was absolutely powerless in the grand scheme of everything.

The true man who possessed the ability to rescue his imprisoned Pond was not a worthless flesh doppelganger.

He was the original, the proper Doctor, a mad man with a box who could embark upon thrilling adventures on a daily basis, and yet cause vast armies to tremble and flee at the simple mention of his name.

Perhaps what had perpetrated the current behavior of the man in the bow tie was the heartbreaking knowledge that such a magnificent, yet burdened life would forever elude him.

No matter how intensely he wished to deny his doubts, the Almost Doctor could not prevent himself from succumbing to a gut wrenching sense of insignificance and undeniable lonesomeness.

The ominous aura that had tainted the air beckoned the lonely man out of his emotional torment.

As his glistening blue eyes widened, the clever man in the bow tie redirected his attention to the current issue at hand.

It was as if he was quickly able to forcibly barricade the entrances to these inclinations, and temporarily seep back into the equally terrifying prospect of reality.

Uncertain as to why his body was surging with alarm, the Doctor fumbled his finger atop his sonic, just as he had previously done, in order to dissipate his confusion and uneasiness.

There appears to be definite life signs in sight, well, besides me, of course. They look human, but why is there some sort of discrepancy? It's as if this place does not exist on an ordinary level—but how can that even be possible? What am I missing…and why do I have the oddest feeling that this isn't the first time I've been here?

A soft click reverberated through the tiny room, causing the overhead lights to immediately flicker off.

Carefully closing the door behind her, the curly haired woman swiftly exited the childrens' chamber.

As she proceeded down the hallway, she attempted to ignore the presence of the rugged blue book that was rustling at her thigh.

When she had veered closer to her desired destination, the woman's attention was suddenly maneuvered elsewhere.

"Goodnight, Professor Song," the young, tenderhearted girl kindly spoke, as if to assuage the woman's tension.

"Goodnight, Miss Evangelista," the curly haired woman responded, a huge grin plastered to her face.

For a second, the brunette in the shimmering nightgown parted her lips, as if prepared to speak, but she must have decided against it, because she soon ventured towards her own room, allowing her professor to continue along her intended route.

After finally entering her corridors, River Song released a desponded sigh.

Her fabricated smile instantly dissipated, as her shrouded feelings began to surface.

Because she was already clothed in her pajamas and exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm her, the curly haired woman nestled her frigid body beneath her TARDIS blue comforter.

Despite the fact that River Song was currently dwelling in a virtual world of safety, she was fully aware that her battered heart was far from contentment.

She continued to clutch her beloved diary close to her chest.

It seemed that this simple action initiated an unusual mixture of aching sadness and incredible comfort to seep into her bones.

Every lovely memory or exhilarating adventure had been meticulously recorded in that mystical TARDIS blue book, ever since her loving Doctor had graciously given it to her upon her first meeting with him.

What fueled her brokenness was not the memories, themselves, but the knowledge that such a beautiful chapter of her life had at last drawn to a close.

Never again would the enigmatic River Song rest in the comfort of her astounding husband, travel with a daft old man through an expansive universe of insurmountable impossibilities, or pesture a flustered man in a bow tie with her typical flirtatious greetings.

Perhaps her final encounter with the man she loved so immensely had been the most difficult moment of all.

His deep brown eyes had stared directly into hers without registering even the slightest bit of recognition.

That obscure man in the pinstriped suit had only been a mere reflection of her Doctor.

Even though he had possessed little affection for her and had been incapable of truly trusting her, River Song had compassionately sacrificed her life on behalf of his, only to discover that her Doctor had delivered her from the clutches of death.

But salvation had come at such a heavy cost—a heartbreaking outcome had ensued, one that could not be reckoned with.

The flirty archaeologist was eternally separated from the only man capable of removing the barriers of her formally bitter and corrupted heart.

She supposed she should be thankful that she was alive, but how could she even begin to feel energized and lively, when she would never again see the man who had continually given her the will to live?

For all intents and purposes, River Song considered her current life akin to death.

However, she attributed no blame to the Doctor because she knew with great certainty that this had always been her inevitable fate.

Now, as the woman's wild curls folded carelessly upon her soft pillow, her slender fingers smoothed the barren place beside her.

Silent droplets pooled from her eyes and tumbled onto the sheet below.

As much as she was bombarded by a nearly unbearable sense of loneliness, she could scarcely even imagine how the Doctor was coping with this loss.

Many a time she had witnessed a flicker of pain ablaze in those soulful blue eyes. He had overcome numerous trifles, and now his wife feared that he would sink into further isolation.

If only she could just glimpse his handsome face one last time and give a final declaration of her unfathomable love.

But, alas, the defiant River Song had to accept once and for all that such an action would have been completely impossible.

Shifting uncomfortably beneath her heavy comforter, the woman with the curly hair vainly tried to force herself into getting some rest.

Unfortunately, the beads of sweat that laced her brow and the fire that consumed her body compelled her to climb out of bed.

Any further attempt at a peaceful slumber would be utterly futile.

As she quietly wandered about the dim room, she fumbled her closet door open and changed into suitable outdoor attire.

After quickly coating her body with a stylish long-sleeved shirt, a warm pair of elastic trousers, and a thick, artificial fur jacket, inconsolable River ebbed out of the building, and laid her darkened boots upon the surface of the coarse emerald colored grass.

She hoped that a brief inhalation of the midnight air would serve to rejuvenate her in some manner or another.

In a way, this desire was fulfilled, because her irregular breathing had gradually slowed to a healthier rate.

Deciding that that emotional storm brewing from within her had momentarily settled, River prepared to head back towards her bedroom.

When a peculiar rustling briskly sounded from the nearby forest, the woman's curious nature enticed her to follow the odd sound.

What is that? This is a completely secure virtual computer, so any sort of threat should not be possible.

Removing a tiny flashlight from her pocket in a force of habit, River Song steadily maneuvered herself in the direction of the darkened woods, in order to deduce the nature of the situation.

Because she had not faced any sort of potential danger in weeks, the curly haired woman welcomed the sudden thrill that began to circulate through her veins.

As the noise reached a crescendo, River watched in fascination as her torch illuminated a blackened silhouette.

Who could possibly be awake at this hour? She inquired silently, before attempting to access the identity of the nearby figure.

A pale streak of light drifted upon the person's face to reveal a familiar floppy haired man with soulful blue eyes.

Her heart suddenly pounding in her ears, River hurriedly scanned the man's quirky attire, only to discover that he was clothed in a tweed jacket and crimson bow tie.

Completely flabbergasted by what was certainly no hallucination, the Doctor's wife felt the intensity of the man's gaze cut to the very core of her being.

But, it…it can't be…I…I must be dreaming…

Even as these doubts pulsated through her disbelieving mind, River recalled the exact words that a certain bumbling Time Lord had relayed to her in the days of her youth.

Though they had seemed inconsequential in the past, the curly haired woman now held fast to the Doctor's instructive words more than she ever had before.

"Rule 426: Never underestimate the impossible…"

Note: So I hope you enjoyed it. I'll definitely be adding more if I get enough positive feedback. Remember that reviews would be greatly appreciated! Also, you may be interested in checking out some of my other stories(posted on my profile).

Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day!