River POV lyrics

Doctor POV lyrics


Right from the start
You were a thief
You stole my heart
And I'm your willing victim

It had always been that way. The Doctor had simply appeared into her life one day, just as he had done for her mother, dropping out of the sky in that little-big, impossibly blue, impossibly real box. And he had just stepped out and smiled at her. That was really all it took for her to fall for him, even though she was all of eleven when they first met.

I let you see the parts of me
That weren't all that pretty
And with every touch you fixed them

She had been damaged by the Silence and Madame Kovarian. She could never have children: she discovered that in her second regeneration when all the other girls were talking about their periods in hushed whispers in corners of the schoolyard, but she had never, never, gotten hers. What she wouldn't give to be laid up in bed with horrible cramps. But even more than that, the memories, or the lack of them. Sometimes they came in brief fragments, seemingly trickling in from a box in the dusty corner of her mind. But sometimes they came in floods, millions of memories- horrible ones, good ones, it didn't matter. The floods were horrible, and it was all she could do to keep them from doubling over from the force of them. But the Doctor was always there to catch her and hold her close, whispering comforting non-words into her hair as she allowed herself to cry for what she couldn't remember and for what she had never had.

Now you've been talking in your sleep
Things you never say to me
Tell me that you've had enough
Of our love, our love

These days he was muttering in his sleep, whereas before he had seemed to never sleep. She had to remind herself that he had over a thousand years of thoughts in his head, and over a thousand years of problems on his shoulders. These days he just seemed to show his ae so much more. But at night, when they slept after making love, tender and gentle, his arm would wrap so tightly around River that she would wake with a short gasp. He would mutter in his sleep, about the fall of the Eleventh and the Fields of Trenzalore and the impossible question: Doctor Who? And when he would wake up, he would be all smiles again, even though she could see his eyes getting older by the day. He never told her about his dream, no matter how much she asked. Sometimes he would get quite short with her, something that wouldn't happen until he met her for the first few times. He would go off on his own for hours at a time, and, as in-tune as River was with the TARDIS, she could never find him until he wanted to be found. Sometimes, River would find him napping in a chair in his study, his hair mussed and tearstains streaked across his face.

Just give me a reason
Just a little bit's enough
Just a second we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

She just wanted him to say something to her, confide in her like he used to. Sometimes they would go whole days without saying a single word to each other, but it wasn't a, a mad silence. It was weary, much like the silence after Amy and Rory had left them. And it was long. River never knew that she could get so tired by doing nothing all day long, and all night long. They used to have fun together, to go on jaunts and talk and laugh and flirt and make love.

It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
That we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

She loved those times, less and less frequent, where they would visit new planets. There was less running these days and more watching. Him watching the stars that were really new worlds being born by the death of another one, and her watching him watch the stars. Sometimes she would wrap her arms around him and bury her face into his back, hoping her tears wouldn't seep through his thick tweed jacket. But most times they seemed to be separated by millions of miles instead of the tension-filled inches between their hands.

I'm sorry I don't understand
Where all of this is coming from
I thought that we were fine

River had seemed so distant lately, which was odd. She was getting to know him more, not less. The Doctor didn't know what it was. Sometimes he would look up from a book and see her staring at him with the saddest eyes he had ever seen outside a mirror. But when their eyes met, hers would flick away from his quickly. He simply didn't know what to do… he had never been good with women. Every so often, he would find his hand straying to his pocket, about to call Amy for advice, before her remembered that Amy and Rory were in the 1940's, and probably didn't have quite that good service yet, nor did he have their number.

Your head is running wild again
My dear, we still have everythin'
And it's all in your mind

Sometimes, when his hand went to his pocket, when he was at dinner or sitting with River in the library, it would brush the small circle, a ring made from the purest of star-metal from the Fraxlin Galaxy. It would mold to her finger and fuse, ensuring that it would not slip off or break or be harmed in general when she was off on another one of her missions. But every time that he would start to form the question (that impossible question) in his head, she would look at him for the briefest second, get up silently, and leave without any explanation.

You've been havin' real bad dreams
You used to lie so close to me
There's nothing more than empty sheets
Between
our love, our love

In the night, she would toss and turn in his arms, seemingly trying to escape from his embrace. Sometimes he would try to hold her closer to him, trying to comfort her in wherever she was. But most nights she would kick and jab at him until he was forced to relinquish his hold on her and, when he woke up, she would be on the opposite side of the bed, her back to him. Some mornings, she wasn't there at all, and he would find her staring at the console, sipping deeply from a mug of tea, or even coffee. Coffee, really.

Just give me a reason
Just a little bit's enough
Just a second we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

Sometimes he wished he was better with words around his River. She was just so… her. So distant, yet such a large force to contend with. She blew him away every time he saw her. And so he didn't say anything, just stared at her with his eyes, so very old and so very sad. Sometimes he would think about the times they had, before… Sometimes he despaired of the days that they had in front of them. He didn't want this to be it, to be the end. Because River wasn't his companion, no, that was far to common. She was his… River. His Song. She was his.

It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
That we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

There were times when he would take her to the most beautiful planets, and they would just stand there and stare at the awe of it all. He loved the skies the best, seeing new worlds dying a hundred million miles and the blink of an eye away. He would feel her arms around him sometimes, her small hands slipping into his coat, and he would link his fingers with hers, finding her palms warm and rough, while her fingers were smooth and pale. It scared him so much sometimes to feel those fingers; they felt dead. That's why he wouldn't take her hand on those nights when they just stood side by side.

Oh tear ducts and rust
I'll fix it for us
We're collecting dust

They found themselves sitting there, not pretending to read, not pretending to do anything except stare at each other from across the console and wait for the other to say something first. The Doctor's eyes were so sad, and River's so old, much older than she had a right for them to be. She was too young to be so old, and he was too old to be so sad. They sat, motionless, waiting, watching, waiting for anything to happen.

But our love's enough
You're holding it in
You're pouring a drink

River got up to pour herself some coffee, ignoring the disapproving twitch of the Doctor's eyebrows as she returned with it. It was scalding and burned her throat before settling like a heavy fire in the pit of her stomach. She belatedly realized that she should have made something for him, but he himself poured himself a strong cup of tea- leaving the bag in- and burned his own throat. She almost smiled, remembering the days when he would have spat it back out, gasping like a child just learning it's likes and dislikes. Her Doctor.

Nothing is as bad as it seems
We'll come clean

The Doctor and River stared to speak at the same time, and each awkwardly gestured to the other to start. They fell back into silence, River slumping back into the uncomfortable seat. She noticed that the Doctor's foot was twitching against the floor lightly, just light enough to see but not light enough to be felt. She herself moved her fingers in a vague replication of a rhythm against her mug, still hot enough to hurt.

Just give me a reason
Just a little bit's enough
Just a second we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

They forced smiles, straining to turn the corners of their mouths up under the weight of the tension surrounding them. He fiddled with his bowtie as she ran a tired hand through her hair. She knew that he was about to say something. He did not know what he was trying to say. A thought bubbled to the surface, unbidden but welcome. It was the first good thought he had had in far too long.

It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
That we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

"River, will you run with me?"