The Silent was closing in on River, forcing her to back against the wall. Her gun lay out of reach a few feet away. There was no way of her reaching it; no chance whatsoever. She attempted to steady her nerves as the creature advanced on her, it's pale, long fingertips extended out towards her face. River averted her eyes and cringed at the thought of the creature's touch. Suddenly, a pain like no other coursed through her body. She lost all control, and felt herself crumble onto the ground. The air in her lungs burned. She couldn't breathe- oxygen was leaving her-she couldn't even scream. But she heard something within her mind, a terrifying noise. The sound was that of a child, a young girl, shrieking.
River's eyes opened suddenly, launching her out of the nightmare. She gasped for breath, her chest heaving madly from shock. Her body was drenched in sweat, her hearts beating violently as she tried to regain her senses. River stared at the ceiling and placed her hands wearily upon her sweaty forehead. This was the fifth time she'd had a nightmare this week alone. It was absolutely ridiculous. She could barely sleep, she was stressed to the point of madness, and she…
Right on cue, River felt a wave of nausea overcome her, causing her body to shiver. She rolled her body towards the edge of the bed, just in time to heave up her stomach contents into the rubbish bin she'd positioned there in anticipation. River groaned, miserable with her situation, and spit into the bin in an attempt to expel the horrid taste from her mouth. She noticed that some vomit had coated a few of her golden curls, so she grabbed a towel from her bedside table and began to wipe it off, but before she could finish, she found herself vomiting yet again.
Convinced that was the last of it, River pulled herself into a sitting position, resting her head against the bed's headboard. She glanced over at the clock. It was 5:03 in the morning. Fantastic. After a moment of stasis, she forced herself to get out of bed to take a shower.
The water was scolding hot, and it felt amazing against her skin. The heat seemed to be restorative to her body, rejuvenating her energy, awakening her mind and body. Showers were the only solace she had these past few mornings. She took a moment then to rest her head against the tile wall of the shower. What the bloody hell was happening to her? The constant nausea and restlessness was driving her mad. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. If only she could have used the TARDIS to discover the answer, but unfortunately, she hadn't seen The Doctor in over a month. She had tried countless times to contact him, but it was to no avail. A hospital wasn't an option for her either; River didn't trust the personnel. Just one slip of the tongue could deliver her back into the hands of the Silence. And she wasn't going to let that bloody happen.
River turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. Mindlessly, she dried herself off with a towel and dropped the wet thing onto the floor. Naked, she reentered the bedroom, and perched herself on the edge of the bed. She'd done a medical scan once before, but it had been inconclusive. There was no reason for her to think it would work this time around, only a few days later, but she had to try, if only for the slim chance that the results would be different this time around.
So, with a heavy sigh, River lifted the scanner off of the table, turned it towards her, and allowed it to scan her body. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, hoping for an answer, any answer, even if it predicted an imminent demise.
It was to her relief when she heard a beep, a positive sound, not the usual depressed beep signaling failure. She whipped the device around, clutching it in her hands, staring at the screen with anticipation as the results loaded.
Scan Results: Fetus detected. Species: Unknown.
River's hands shook with horror, causing her to drop the scanner to the ground.
A baby. No. Anything but this.
It was impossible. Completely and utterly impossible. There was no way that she, River Song, could be pregnant. How? She and The Doctor, they were genetically incompatible…weren't they?
She couldn't believe it, even hours after the initial shock.
It was not possible.
But, after taking five of the best EPTs that 51st Century science had to offer, she was forced to realize the truth.
In despair, she chucked the tests into the trash. She didn't want a constant visual reminder of what grew inside her. Her chest constricted as a wave of anxiety bubbled at the pit of her stomach, threatening to heave up its contents once more. Oh, her stomach, she didn't want to think about her stomach right now. She couldn't face it.
She collapsed back onto her bed and ran tense fingers through her hair and across her clammy face. There was no anger, nor the energy to cry, within her. She simply stared blankly at the ceiling, her breaths deep with desolation.
What was there to do? River couldn't tell her husband about it. They weren't meant to be parents. She was a restless, trigger-happy, psychopath, and he…that impossible man…the ancient man-child who never kept same company or stayed in one place for too long. Their lives were too…unstable, too dangerous to raise a child.
She could not conceal the pregnancy; that was certain. He would discover the truth eventually, and betraying his trust would be a fate worse than anything else.
She considered for a fleeting moment to be rid of it all together, before the chance of discovery was even possible. But no, no no no. Absolutely not. If he ever learned what she'd done, he would be devastated. He'd never forgive her. And she'd never forgive herself.
Nor could she give the baby away once it was born; this was completely out of the question. The baby, as the scanner determined, was not a full Time Lord…it was utterly unique. If she allowed the child to be given to someone else's care, then the horrible things that once happened to her would most certainly befall the child as well. The idea was unbearable. She most certainly was not going to allow that to happen. Not her baby.
A weak smile graced her face then. She glanced down at her abdomen, allowing her hands to brush across it lightly with affection. It was strange; her determination to protect the child had brought maternal instinct to the surface. She did have it in her after all.
She loved her baby, their baby, more than she believed possible. Her smile broadened at the thought. Their child. A product of their love in physical form. She stroked her belly once more, her hands now steady. Granted, she was terrified beyond belief, but the idea of a little child, part her, part Doctor, laughing and running around the TARDIS, drowned the fear.
This child was impossible, so rare, so precious. And she would love it with all her hearts.
But suddenly, she realized something more terrifying than the thought of raising a child: she had to tell her husband.