jadefic (jadefic) wrote,

Doctor Who - Rewriting History One Death at a Time


The first time I met you, you died. It was a good death, I suppose – you sacrificed yourself to save over four thousand others, including the incredible Donna. Including me. Perhaps I shouldn’t complain. I can’t claim it wasn’t the right thing.

The right thing for everyone but me.

Because I’ve carried that memory with me for the entire time I’ve known you, and sometimes it hurts so much I think it might kill me too.

So, River:

Don’t go to the Library.

I’ll work something else out to save those 4022 people. But I need to save you too.


The first time I met you, you died. You were in one of the games on Satellite 5 and seemed to know me – Jack too, actually. I sent you to fight the Daleks and they killed you. Jack too, but he ended up immortal. And you didn't. At the time, you were just one of many strangers who died that day, but then I met you again. And again.

And the thing is, I’ve got two sets of memories of that day, and in the other set, you aren’t there so you don’t die.

So, River, listen:

Don’t be there.


The first time I met you, you died. Well, we both did. I was stumbling out of the TARDIS in Chinatown, San Francisco, and you were there, running towards me. Doctor, you called, which startled me – and a man ran past us, and then we were shot.

You looked so angry, and you had a gun of your own and you shot two of the attackers as they rushed past. Such fury on your face, your chest all bloody and your hair all wild.

I shouldn’t have liked that, but I kind of did.

Really though, stay away from Chinatown.


The first time I met you, you died.

You were Kane’s right-hand woman on Iceworld. Looking back, I suppose you felt a kind of sympathy for his plight – here was somebody else sentenced to prison for millennia. And I’m sure the tales of dragon-guarded treasure were more than enough to pique your curiosity.

You were just another villain to me then, though. That is, until you tried to help me and Kane killed you for it.

I’m sure you didn’t trust him. I’m sure you were on your guard. But it wasn’t enough.

So, River, for goodness’ sake be careful.


The first time I met you, you died.

You appeared out of nowhere – as usual – and said, Oh sweetie, we’ve got the same hair! You may not have been too pleased with my reaction.

You were posing as an undercover policewoman investigating a man called Lytton, who I had met before, and his connection with a possible Cyberman threat. Oh, I bet you loved that one – leading a life of crime for a higher purpose. Just your cup of tea.

The Cybermen were waiting for us when we got back to the TARDIS, and they killed you.

Don’t let them.


The first time I met you, you died.

You were leaning against the TARDIS when we landed on Androzani Minor and you wouldn’t go away. You just kept grinning at me like you knew something I didn’t – which you did, of course. Lots of somethings. Drove me up the wall, as usual.

You were exposed to spectrox toxemia along with Peri and me, and when the time came to decide who would receive the single dose of the cure that we had, you told me you would regenerate.

River, you are a fantastic liar.

Don’t touch sticky substances in caves.


The first time I met you, you died.

We were on the Ark, and you were one of the first to be revived from suspended animation. You knew me but nobody knew you. You explained that you had been suspended by accident – the only reason I believed you was that the same thing had just happened to Sarah.

But you’d been infected by one of the Wirrn larvae and later it made you threaten Sarah. I took a gun from one of the others, it was the only way, I had to kill you.

River. Don't make me do that.


The first time I met you, you died.

You were an outside expert brought in by UNIT to help investigate some technical difficulties at a nuclear research facility. You never did tell me what you were supposed to be an expert in. Me, perhaps.

It turned out that the Silurians were responsible, and they released a virus which spread at a devastating rate.

You were one of its first victims. I suppose I’m more human than I thought, I remember you saying.

It wasn’t until much later that I knew what you meant.

River, you are not immune. Vaccinate yourself.


The first time I met you, you died. You were one of the scientists trying to halt the advance of a new Ice Age, and when I walked into the room your face lit up like a supernova.

You joined me in my trek through the snow to the Ice Warriors' vessel. It was freezing cold and the wind was blowing snow into our faces, but you were having the time of your life, teasing me with spoilers.

And then you pushed me out of the way of an avalanche and it swept you away.

Watch out for that, River.


The first time I met you, you died. Old age, you said. You helped me out of a jam with some cavemen and exhausted yourself, and you never recovered.

I asked just how old you were – as if you would tell me. Spoilers, my love. But old enough.

And I held you until you were gone. My beautiful stranger. You looked so young, and I looked so old, and really it was quite the reverse. Funny, that.

But River... why does it always have to start with your death? Why can’t we have a happy beginning? Just one meeting, before.


The first time I met you I was a child on Gallifrey, and you filled my head with tales of daring adventure and stolen time machines. You appeared one day like an angel, mysterious and breathtaking and beautiful, and you told me that I should dare to dream.

How did you do that?

Alright, yes, you probably don’t know yet, but when you do, River, I implore you to tell me.

Really. Yes, seriously. Because these are impossible memories and I need to know how they got into my head. It’s very important.


Tell me.


(Also, River:

Thank you.)

Tags: doctor who, library fix-its, river song
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