κάθαρσις ('Release' entry)
Sep. 29th, 2015 01:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Title: 'κάθαρσις'
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 751
Pairings or Characters: Eleventh Doctor, River
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild naughtiness toward the end
Summary: He stood in the doorway now, watching as River put herself through her paces. She was pounding her fists and her feet into a large punching bag suspended from the ceiling.
The slowly decreasing temperature of her side of the bed awoke him.
"River?" A hand reached out, drowsily patting the cooling sheets, confirming the absence. He sat up, frowning. "Where..."
Oh. Of course. She probably couldn't sleep again. At such times, there was only one place where she could be.
"Damn," the Doctor murmured, shrugging into a robe. He slipped his feet into a pair of fuzzy maroon slippers--a jokey Christmas gift from the in-laws, which he'd taken a surprising shine to. "Not again..."
Where others might retreat to the library or the pool, River tended to gravitate toward the gymnasium when she needed me time. It had been designed to her specifications--although the Doctor had firmly vetoed the possibility of it including a shooting range. Shooting the TARDIS once had been a thousand times too many; there was no way in any form of Hell that he would allow that to happen again.
He stood in the doorway now, watching as River put herself through her paces. She was pounding her fists and her feet into a large punching bag suspended from the ceiling.
Of course. River Song would be an excellent kick-boxer. It was only natural, given her upbringing.
She spun suddenly, catching sight of him.
He smiled softly. "Hello."
"How long have you been standing there, dear?" Barely even breathless, she picked up a towel, draping it across her shoulders.
"Not long. Long enough." Leaning against the doorjamb, the Doctor slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe. Eyed her anxiously. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I am. I just needed to let off some steam. You know how it is. I got restless."
"Yeah." He nodded a bit. "I'm sorry," he told her, looking away.
River stared at him, confusion etched on her face. "Sorry? I don't understand. What're you apologizing for?"
He shrugged. "Everything. Everything you are is because of me. Your childhood, your training. You were...designed for me, and you were never given a say in the matter. You are a living, breathing superweapon, and it's all because of me. It's my fault, River, and I'm sor--"
There was a loud crack as her palm collided with his cheek. God, but the woman could slap!
"Don't you ever say that," she demanded. "I never want to hear you say things like that--I don't want you even to think them!"
The Doctor rubbed his stinging cheek. "What am I supposed to think," he protested. "We both know that every word is true! And I can't go back and make them untrue. I can't..." He sighed tiredly, sitting on a nearby bench, hands burrowing frustratedly into his hair. "I can't fix you," he muttered. "I can't go back in time and save you from the Silence, as much as I long to. I can never give you back to your parents and let you be raised the way you should have been. Damn it, you shouldn't have had to watch your own parents grow up. You shouldn't have had to hide the truth from them for so long." He felt her come closer to stand over him, and he stared up at her, anguish clenching at him. "I want to fix you," he whispered, "and I'll never be able to."
"Damn you," River murmured.
He nodded. "I kno--oi! What the hell--"
She'd knocked him from the bench, and was pinning him to the floor, hands tightening around his wrists. She leaned over him so that their faces were an inch apart.
"Damn you for caring," she whispered. "Not for failing. Damn you for being so beautiful." She kissed him hard.
He jerked his head to the side, gasping for breath. "What..."
Her hand sealed over his mouth, and her lips brushed his ear. "Shut up, sweetie. Nothing that's happened to me has been your fault. Yes, I am what I am because of you. Would you want me any other way?"
She was nibbling at his earlobe now, and he shuddered, trying to force himself to think.
Perhaps she had a point. She was a strong, independent, incredible woman. She'd defied her training, survived so much that the average person couldn't even imagine.
She was also impossibly sexy.
No. River Song didn't need fixing. She'd fixed herself long ago.
"Now," she whispered with a saucy grin, "I still have plenty of steam to let off. Care to join me?"
He pulled her face back down to his. "Thought you'd never ask," he murmured against her lips.
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 751
Pairings or Characters: Eleventh Doctor, River
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild naughtiness toward the end
Summary: He stood in the doorway now, watching as River put herself through her paces. She was pounding her fists and her feet into a large punching bag suspended from the ceiling.
The slowly decreasing temperature of her side of the bed awoke him.
"River?" A hand reached out, drowsily patting the cooling sheets, confirming the absence. He sat up, frowning. "Where..."
Oh. Of course. She probably couldn't sleep again. At such times, there was only one place where she could be.
"Damn," the Doctor murmured, shrugging into a robe. He slipped his feet into a pair of fuzzy maroon slippers--a jokey Christmas gift from the in-laws, which he'd taken a surprising shine to. "Not again..."
Where others might retreat to the library or the pool, River tended to gravitate toward the gymnasium when she needed me time. It had been designed to her specifications--although the Doctor had firmly vetoed the possibility of it including a shooting range. Shooting the TARDIS once had been a thousand times too many; there was no way in any form of Hell that he would allow that to happen again.
He stood in the doorway now, watching as River put herself through her paces. She was pounding her fists and her feet into a large punching bag suspended from the ceiling.
Of course. River Song would be an excellent kick-boxer. It was only natural, given her upbringing.
She spun suddenly, catching sight of him.
He smiled softly. "Hello."
"How long have you been standing there, dear?" Barely even breathless, she picked up a towel, draping it across her shoulders.
"Not long. Long enough." Leaning against the doorjamb, the Doctor slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe. Eyed her anxiously. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I am. I just needed to let off some steam. You know how it is. I got restless."
"Yeah." He nodded a bit. "I'm sorry," he told her, looking away.
River stared at him, confusion etched on her face. "Sorry? I don't understand. What're you apologizing for?"
He shrugged. "Everything. Everything you are is because of me. Your childhood, your training. You were...designed for me, and you were never given a say in the matter. You are a living, breathing superweapon, and it's all because of me. It's my fault, River, and I'm sor--"
There was a loud crack as her palm collided with his cheek. God, but the woman could slap!
"Don't you ever say that," she demanded. "I never want to hear you say things like that--I don't want you even to think them!"
The Doctor rubbed his stinging cheek. "What am I supposed to think," he protested. "We both know that every word is true! And I can't go back and make them untrue. I can't..." He sighed tiredly, sitting on a nearby bench, hands burrowing frustratedly into his hair. "I can't fix you," he muttered. "I can't go back in time and save you from the Silence, as much as I long to. I can never give you back to your parents and let you be raised the way you should have been. Damn it, you shouldn't have had to watch your own parents grow up. You shouldn't have had to hide the truth from them for so long." He felt her come closer to stand over him, and he stared up at her, anguish clenching at him. "I want to fix you," he whispered, "and I'll never be able to."
"Damn you," River murmured.
He nodded. "I kno--oi! What the hell--"
She'd knocked him from the bench, and was pinning him to the floor, hands tightening around his wrists. She leaned over him so that their faces were an inch apart.
"Damn you for caring," she whispered. "Not for failing. Damn you for being so beautiful." She kissed him hard.
He jerked his head to the side, gasping for breath. "What..."
Her hand sealed over his mouth, and her lips brushed his ear. "Shut up, sweetie. Nothing that's happened to me has been your fault. Yes, I am what I am because of you. Would you want me any other way?"
She was nibbling at his earlobe now, and he shuddered, trying to force himself to think.
Perhaps she had a point. She was a strong, independent, incredible woman. She'd defied her training, survived so much that the average person couldn't even imagine.
She was also impossibly sexy.
No. River Song didn't need fixing. She'd fixed herself long ago.
"Now," she whispered with a saucy grin, "I still have plenty of steam to let off. Care to join me?"
He pulled her face back down to his. "Thought you'd never ask," he murmured against her lips.