I don't know how to introduce this fic; it's a River/12 fic DON'T GO PLEASE STAY I REALIZE THAT IT'S NOT SOMETHING PEOPLE DO. But I did. So please read it, and thank you.
Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and Steven Moffat! This is not for personal gain!
She woke up slowly and immediately realized where she was, and who was standing a few feet away from her, slowly backing up to lean against a familiar stanchion. She didn't recognize him from her diary and the pictures she had forced him to draw, but it was him. There was no other way to see it. As she watched him back away, memories kept flooding past.
"Doctor," River stared at him, "I died."
"You've done that before. It's no big deal for you."
"No, I died. You know I died. You've known. You watched me die." She stared at him, "I'm dead."
"No, you're not." He grinned slightly, but he looked war torn.
"Yes, I am. I'm dead."
"Then I can talk to the dead. Would have been nice to know that before. Less lonely." He smiled sadly at her, then brightened up again, "Bit more interesting too. Imagine me being able to talk to the dead—"
"Shut up." She glared at him, and then rolled her eyes, "You're staring at your foot."
"New body." He commented, looking at his hands, "It's interesting. Look at how—"
She cut him off, her voice somewhere between scared, hopeful and annoyed; "You didn't."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." He grinned, attempting to surreptitiously see what color his hair was.
"It's not ginger." She sighed. "We need to talk about the fact that I died."
"I'm never ginger." He muttered, and then continued dismissively, "You've had a bit of practice. It's no big deal."
"This is the third time you've died. Granted, I've got seven times on you. Do you have some tea?"
"Sweetie, I just came out of a computer." She rolled her eyes.
"And didn't bring tea? That wasn't thoughtful in the least." He coughed, "Regeneration is rather annoying, isn't it? But you seem to handle it well. That's not fair."
"Doctor!" She laughed, "I'm being serious."
"So am I. How do you do that? Is it because you're female? Amy always said it was because you're female. Does she know this me?"
"I don't know, sweetie." She frowned at him, "But you haven't seen her in forever anyway. Stop avoiding the question."
"You didn't ask a question. You made a statement."
"You're still avoiding it."
"I am not, I'm delaying it. Until we're both feeling better, I promise."
"I feel fine except for the fact that I just died." She shot back.
"So did I, it's nothing special. We do it all the time."
She rolled her eyes, "Didn't I already tell you to shut up?"
"See, that's a question. One that I'm avoiding."
"I hate you."
"I can't believe that you did that." She frowned, and then struggled in her seat, "Help me out of these. Why did I have to get trapped into this thing again?"
He waved her question off as he straightened up, "When I get my strength back."
"What in the world did you do?" She asked, twisting to start freeing herself from the chair.
"I told you, I died."
"Do I have to handcuff you again?"
"You can't. You just came out of a computer. You don't have them."
"I'm tied to a chair, at any rate."
He nodded, "I'm a bit tired myself."
"Tied, not tired." She frowned, fiddling with the wires, "What happened to you?"
"Can't tell you. Spoilers."
"Sweetie, I died. You can tell me, I've seen it all."
"You have haven't you? Then read your diary."
"When you get me out of this, I will slap you."
"Maybe I shouldn't let you out after all." He sighed and managed to walk towards her only to slide down next to the chair. She rolled her eyes when he fell asleep. A few minutes later he said, "Hi. Have I seen you before?"
"Don't be dumb."
"I'm not. Why are you tied up?" He looked up at her, "Were we doing anything?"
"I am going to slap some sense into you."
"And I tied you up because of this?"
She sighed in exasperation, "No. I'm tied up because we were about to do something kinky and you really wanted too."
The alarm in his eyes grew; "Who are you again?"
"You know who I am. You have to know who I am." She stared at him in realization, "Oh no. Your regeneration."
"Help me out of this."
"I'm tired." He yawned, and then asked, "What were we doing exactly?"
"Not much." She frowned, and then continued," Life and death situations is our usual. Death this time."
"Really?" He frowned. "We're dead? I don't understand."
"I really hate you."
"I really hope not. You're the only person here. And also you're really pretty." He smiled hopefully at her.
"Oh god, please tell me that you're more pompous than this."
"What? Don't you know me? Weren't we supposed to be doing something kinky just now?" He pulled himself up to help her get untangled from the wires in the chair. "You mentioned something about something kinky."
"I was joking."
"Do you do that a lot?"
"Not anymore. Just get me out of this."
"What do I do?" he asked, worried, "Do I just pull the wires out?"
"No, sweetie. Help me get my hair free of this, and then we have to find a big blue box."
"A big blue box?" He asked as he gently attempted to free her frazzled curls.
"Yes. And then we need to go see…someone."
"I hope you know what you're talking about, because I don't."
"Do you know what your name is?"
He smiled, "Don't you know?"
"Oh, sweetie." She stood up and shook her hair out, "Let's go. I don't think that we have that long."
"We get eaten alive like we're fried chicken."
"I'm afraid I still don't know what you're going on about."
"Please tell me you're more pompous than this."
"I'm sorry, I don't know."
"Why can't you ever regenerate properly? Ever story you've ever told me, you can't. You just don't. Ever." She poked him in the chest angrily, "What's wrong with you?"
"What are you talking about?"
She bit her lip, "Spoilers. Let's get you home."
"Home?" he perked up, "Where's that?"
"A home, not yours. I'm sorry, but you need to be seen by someone before I can let you rest."
After taking his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket, she began to hand it over to him, "I don't know how well this will fit," She warned.
He took the coat from her to put it on, "It's okay. Bit tight."
"It is not. You're wearing it wrong. Let me help you out." She pulled his head out of the sleeve and helped him put his arms into the sleeves, even though he was uncooperative. And when he remembered himself, he would feel better. Or at least be sorry for being so difficult. Well. He'd say sorry.
"Come on. We need to get to the TARDIS." She grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her towards the doorway. "Where is it? You would have parked it…ah-ha!"
"I keep forgetting that you don't remember." She sighed.
"That's a bit of a pickle-y situation isn't it? Ooh, I like that word. Pickle-y. That's a good word."
"Right. Look, I need you to close your eyes and trust me. That's all, I promise." She sighed, and held out her hands. "Trust me?"
"Oddly enough, yes." He took one of her hands, and closed his eyes.
"Then I'm sorry." Before he could open his eyes, she knocked him out.
I hope you like this and please tell me what you thought!