FANFIC: Home Sweet Home (Dr. Who, River Song, Brian Williams)
Title: Home Sweet Home
Author: MinervaFan
Rating: Teen
Word Count:
Author's Summary: River Song/Melody Pond, Brian Williams
Warnings: SPOILERS for The Angels Take Manhattan
Summary: River must finish up some family business.
It was raining in Leadworth when she got to the house. River had been here before, many times, but this was the one time she’d been dreading since she first met Amy on the TARDIS all those years before. It was time to close up house, and she was the only Pond left standing.
She shook her mass of damp curls, brushing away the errant locks that stuck to her skin as she entered through the back. Folks around here were used to the Williams being gone for extended periods of time. None of them would have even begun to worry yet. But she didn’t want them asking uncomfortable questions.
She used her key, even though it wasn’t necessary. If the Storm Cage couldn’t hold River Song in, there was no way her parents’ house was going to keep her out. But she used the key, needing the legitimacy of it, needing to know that she was not breaking and entering. She belonged there. No matter where she came from or where she’d been, she was Melody Pond Williams, and this was her family home.
The house was tidy. The trip to New York had been a vacation, not an emergency, so there were no empty dishes in the sink. There were no books half-read still lingering on the coffee table. Everything looked just as a home should look, waiting patiently for its occupants to return after a journey.
River sat in her father’s chair, reaching for a small throw and spreading it over her lap. She held one corner of it to her cheek, seeking and finding her father’s scent in the woven fabric.
“Hold it together, River,” she heard her own voice saying. It echoed through the empty room, and for a moment she hated the sound of it. She scanned the room, eyes eagerly searching for the family she’d known for such a brief time. Pictures in frames-Amy, Rory, the three of them smiling. Her odd little family, strained to the breaking point by time itself, yet strong enough.
“Hello.”
River spun in the chair, wiping away a stray tear as she came to her feet. Her hand was at her hip instinctively, but her gun remained undrawn. It was an older man, and she smiled as she recognized him. “Hello,” she said.
“I know you, don’t I?” The older man squinted, then grinned broadly. “You’re River. River Song.” Without another word, he came across from the entrance, pulling her into an enormous bear hug. “You’re my grand-daughter!”
She laughed, a choking sound edged with tears, as she returned his embrace. Rory’s father was like him-soft-spoken, utterly normal in that extraordinary way that filled the heart with warmth. “I know you, too.” And she did. She’d sat in her cell in the Storm Cage, watching him, learning him. He’d spent an entire year watching a black box, recording his findings. She’d studied his recordings, forgotten in the jungles of the Internet, as if they were home movies. She’d watched his expressions, learning his moods, fantasizing in weaker moments about the grandfather he might have been, had she been the kind of granddaughter who could be in his life. “Hello, Grandfather,” she said into his jacket. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”
“I’m sorry your mum and dad aren’t here,” he said. “They’re off on holiday with You-Know-Who. I keep an eye on the place while they’re-“
Brian Williams stopped short as he finally took in the look in River’s eyes. There was a long silence before he let her go, nodding his head as he sat hard on the sofa. “Well, then. That’s it, now?”
“I’m so sorry.” River’s words were soft, shaking with emotion. “They…they went together. And bravely.”
Brian nodded fiercely, wiping his eyes hard with the back of one hand. “How it ought to be, right?”
“Yes.”
He steeled himself. “What was it? Daleks? Cybermen?”
“Angels. They were sent backwards in time, trapped in the past to live out their lives together.” She shrugged. “For what it’s worth, they had a happy life. But we can’t…we can’t…”
“Time paradox? Blinovitch limitation?” Brian’s expression was serious.
River couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you know about the Blinovitch limitation?”
He winked at her. “I pay attention, grand-daughter.” There was a sad smile on his face. “So they died of old age, just away from us.” At River’s nod, he continued. “Good. Good, I’m glad they had a good…life.” His voice caught again, and this time Brian lowered his face into his palms, unable to control the tears anymore. River pulled him into her arms, grateful he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. They rocked each other, the pull of family stronger than the years they had spent apart. Eventually, Brian was able to speak again. “You poor child,” he whispered. “Rotten trick life’s played on you, sweet Melody.”
“Don’t be daft, old man,” she whispered back. He smelled like Rory, mixed with muscle ointment and cologne. She found the combination intoxicating. “Life is what you make it.” His arms tightened around her, pulling her in tighter. “They were heroes, Grandfather. You would have been so proud of them.”
“I never stopped being proud of them.” He pulled away, eyeing her critically. “Beans and toast.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m hungry. Fancy a bit of beans and toast?” Before she could respond, he was up and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t just sit there, Melody. Come keep me company.”
She got up, following him into the kitchen where he’d already begun pulling down pots and tins and firing up the stove.
“When Rory’s mum passed-your grandmother,” he clarified. “I must have eaten a ton of beans and toast. Don’t know why-wasn’t the most convenient food, especially in public, but it was comforting, you know? Something familiar on my stomach to keep out the ache.”
He smiled at her, and River felt her heart break. “Sounds lovely.”
He spoke as he mucked about the kitchen, using the flurry of activity as a sort of protective shield between them. “So where are you, then, Melody? They told me you were, well, unstuck in time?”
“Not so much unstuck as, well, on a different path,” she said. “I’m a professor of archaeology now.”
“Ooh, love a tomb! Nothing more fascinating than a good ruin, don’t you think?” Brian said as he emptied the tin into the pot. “Saw a documentary just the past week by some German fellow who explored the Chauvet caves in Southern France. Some say they’re the oldest cave paintings in human history. Have you been?”
“Not yet.” River grinned. She’d been considering going back to see them fresh just a while back. “Maybe-“ She stopped herself. Stopped herself before made the offer for him to travel back with her, before she became too much like Him, pulling innocent people into her own mad life. “Maybe some day.”
They chatted about documentaries and archaeology for a while until the food was done and Brian set two plates down before them. River dug in, surprised that she was actually hungry. Things like eating and sleeping tended to slip her mind, especially when she met up with Himself. But Brian fussed on her, offering her the salt shaker and extra napkins, juice or coffee or perhaps tea. It was so sweet and wholesome that she could feel the knot forming in her stomach like a fist.
“Look,” she began. “I really just came to…well, to close up things. It’s not a good idea to leave mysteries lying about, you know.”
He nodded sadly. “I suppose you have lots of exciting plans to get back to.” His unspoken eagerness broke her heart.
“Yeah, you know. Worlds to save, tombs to…catalog.”
Brian laughed. “From what I hear, you give old You-Know-Who a run for his money when it comes to adventuring.”
She winked at him, shoving down the urge to wrap herself in his arms again. “You have no idea!”
He nodded, pushing his plate away. He’d eaten most of the beans and toast. “I’m gonna regret that in about twenty minutes or so,” he joked as he tossed his napkin on the plate. “Come on, Dr. River Song,” he said, offering her a hand.
“Where are we going?”
“I have strict instructions from your dad. On what to do in,” he coughed. “Well, in situations like this.” He took her hand, leading her to a set of stairs. “What we need is in the attic.”
They climbed the stairs together until they reached the attic door. “Rory left a chest up here, for if and when this day came. He said to make sure you…well, you know.” Brian opened the door and flipped a light switch. The attic was filled with boxes and chests, Rory’s Centurian costume and sword, and several of the model TARDISes Amy had created over the years. Brian went straight to a small metal chest in the corner of the room and picked it up. “This is it, then.”
They both looked at the chest, neither wanting to open it up. “Let’s take it downstairs, okay?” River said. She didn’t wait for Brian’s answer. She needed the light of day to take this, and a rainy parlor was highly preferable to a dusty, dark attic for this sort of task.
When they got to the living room, the rain had stopped. A hesitant light pushed past the clouds to form shadows on the carpet.
“Well now, let’s get this done, shall we?” Brian placed the box in front of them on the coffee table as they sat next to each other on the couch. He opened it without ceremony, pulling out a DVD and several packets of letters. On the DVD, the names RORY & AMY WILLIAMS had been printed in black letters. Brian went to the telly, popping the disk into the player and hitting ‘Play.’ Rory and Amy appeared on the screen. Rory began to speak.
Hello, Dad. I hope River is there with you. If you’re watching this, we’re probably gone. Probably in some weird, time-travelly way that you can’t even begin to explain to the neighbors. That’s all right. Just use the car crash excuse. I’ve set aside funds for fake funerals, so you won’t be put out by the expense. I’ve got a life insurance policy with you listed as the beneficiary. It’s not a lot, but it should keep you comfortable. River, I know money isn’t anything you need to worry about, but…”
At this point, Amy interrupted.
River, we want you to keep the house. It’s paid for-the Doctor gave it to us. I know it’s not as fancy as some of the places you’re used to, but it’s a good house. And you need somewhere to call your own. We’ve drawn up a will naming Brian as executor. We’ve left the house to Dr. River Song, our dearest friend. Crazy, right? But don’t listen to the legal papers, you. Your dad and I are leaving this house to Melody Pond Williams, our darling daughter who we love more than anything in the world. We’re sorry we couldn’t give you a normal life, but we want you to have this. We want you to have a home. We’ll be here for you in spirit, in every nook and cranny, watching you grow, being proud of you.
She stopped, looking away from the camera. Rory inhaled deeply, then continued.
It’s all drawn up legal and proper. We knew this was a possibility when we started traveling with the Doctor. Please, Melody, be brave. Know that we always loved you, and we never let a day go by without thinking of our little girl. There’s a stack of letters in there for you. Your mum and I… We wanted you to know us, really know us. So we kept them there for you. Read them when you have time. Know that we love you, Melody. Oh, and Dad?
Rory paused, then smiled, looking straight into the camera.
Take care of your grand-daughter, will you? We love you both. Take care of each other. And..well, I guess that’s it, then. Good-bye.
The vid stopped there, leaving a blue screen on the telly. Brian and River said nothing for a long time. Eventually, Brian looked in the chest and pulled out several stacks of envelopes. They were each dated, dozens of them, thick with papers. And deeper in the box, there were even older letters. Brian pulled them out, and tilted his head in confusion. “This one’s dated 1945?”
River pulled one out. “1948. 1953.” There were decades of letters, all addressed to River, all in Rory’s or Amy’s handwriting. She began to laugh, and then she began to cry again, overwhelmed with the treasure her parents had left her. “Oh, you beautiful, mad people,” she whispered, pressing one of the letters to her lips. It smelled of Amy, and the tears began to flow again. “Thank you,” she whispered to the spirits of her parents lingering in the walls. “Thank you.”
Brian was watching her, smiling gently. “So, maybe you’ll think about sticking around, then? Not all the time. Wouldn’t want to cramp your style. But maybe, just…once in a while? When you need some down-time with your old grand-dad?”
She nodded. Part of her wanted to rip open the letters like an eager child on Christmas morning. But she knew she had time. She had all the time in the world to get to know her family, finally, in her own sweet home.
The End
Author: MinervaFan
Rating: Teen
Word Count:
Author's Summary: River Song/Melody Pond, Brian Williams
Warnings: SPOILERS for The Angels Take Manhattan
Summary: River must finish up some family business.
It was raining in Leadworth when she got to the house. River had been here before, many times, but this was the one time she’d been dreading since she first met Amy on the TARDIS all those years before. It was time to close up house, and she was the only Pond left standing.
She shook her mass of damp curls, brushing away the errant locks that stuck to her skin as she entered through the back. Folks around here were used to the Williams being gone for extended periods of time. None of them would have even begun to worry yet. But she didn’t want them asking uncomfortable questions.
She used her key, even though it wasn’t necessary. If the Storm Cage couldn’t hold River Song in, there was no way her parents’ house was going to keep her out. But she used the key, needing the legitimacy of it, needing to know that she was not breaking and entering. She belonged there. No matter where she came from or where she’d been, she was Melody Pond Williams, and this was her family home.
The house was tidy. The trip to New York had been a vacation, not an emergency, so there were no empty dishes in the sink. There were no books half-read still lingering on the coffee table. Everything looked just as a home should look, waiting patiently for its occupants to return after a journey.
River sat in her father’s chair, reaching for a small throw and spreading it over her lap. She held one corner of it to her cheek, seeking and finding her father’s scent in the woven fabric.
“Hold it together, River,” she heard her own voice saying. It echoed through the empty room, and for a moment she hated the sound of it. She scanned the room, eyes eagerly searching for the family she’d known for such a brief time. Pictures in frames-Amy, Rory, the three of them smiling. Her odd little family, strained to the breaking point by time itself, yet strong enough.
“Hello.”
River spun in the chair, wiping away a stray tear as she came to her feet. Her hand was at her hip instinctively, but her gun remained undrawn. It was an older man, and she smiled as she recognized him. “Hello,” she said.
“I know you, don’t I?” The older man squinted, then grinned broadly. “You’re River. River Song.” Without another word, he came across from the entrance, pulling her into an enormous bear hug. “You’re my grand-daughter!”
She laughed, a choking sound edged with tears, as she returned his embrace. Rory’s father was like him-soft-spoken, utterly normal in that extraordinary way that filled the heart with warmth. “I know you, too.” And she did. She’d sat in her cell in the Storm Cage, watching him, learning him. He’d spent an entire year watching a black box, recording his findings. She’d studied his recordings, forgotten in the jungles of the Internet, as if they were home movies. She’d watched his expressions, learning his moods, fantasizing in weaker moments about the grandfather he might have been, had she been the kind of granddaughter who could be in his life. “Hello, Grandfather,” she said into his jacket. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”
“I’m sorry your mum and dad aren’t here,” he said. “They’re off on holiday with You-Know-Who. I keep an eye on the place while they’re-“
Brian Williams stopped short as he finally took in the look in River’s eyes. There was a long silence before he let her go, nodding his head as he sat hard on the sofa. “Well, then. That’s it, now?”
“I’m so sorry.” River’s words were soft, shaking with emotion. “They…they went together. And bravely.”
Brian nodded fiercely, wiping his eyes hard with the back of one hand. “How it ought to be, right?”
“Yes.”
He steeled himself. “What was it? Daleks? Cybermen?”
“Angels. They were sent backwards in time, trapped in the past to live out their lives together.” She shrugged. “For what it’s worth, they had a happy life. But we can’t…we can’t…”
“Time paradox? Blinovitch limitation?” Brian’s expression was serious.
River couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you know about the Blinovitch limitation?”
He winked at her. “I pay attention, grand-daughter.” There was a sad smile on his face. “So they died of old age, just away from us.” At River’s nod, he continued. “Good. Good, I’m glad they had a good…life.” His voice caught again, and this time Brian lowered his face into his palms, unable to control the tears anymore. River pulled him into her arms, grateful he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. They rocked each other, the pull of family stronger than the years they had spent apart. Eventually, Brian was able to speak again. “You poor child,” he whispered. “Rotten trick life’s played on you, sweet Melody.”
“Don’t be daft, old man,” she whispered back. He smelled like Rory, mixed with muscle ointment and cologne. She found the combination intoxicating. “Life is what you make it.” His arms tightened around her, pulling her in tighter. “They were heroes, Grandfather. You would have been so proud of them.”
“I never stopped being proud of them.” He pulled away, eyeing her critically. “Beans and toast.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m hungry. Fancy a bit of beans and toast?” Before she could respond, he was up and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t just sit there, Melody. Come keep me company.”
She got up, following him into the kitchen where he’d already begun pulling down pots and tins and firing up the stove.
“When Rory’s mum passed-your grandmother,” he clarified. “I must have eaten a ton of beans and toast. Don’t know why-wasn’t the most convenient food, especially in public, but it was comforting, you know? Something familiar on my stomach to keep out the ache.”
He smiled at her, and River felt her heart break. “Sounds lovely.”
He spoke as he mucked about the kitchen, using the flurry of activity as a sort of protective shield between them. “So where are you, then, Melody? They told me you were, well, unstuck in time?”
“Not so much unstuck as, well, on a different path,” she said. “I’m a professor of archaeology now.”
“Ooh, love a tomb! Nothing more fascinating than a good ruin, don’t you think?” Brian said as he emptied the tin into the pot. “Saw a documentary just the past week by some German fellow who explored the Chauvet caves in Southern France. Some say they’re the oldest cave paintings in human history. Have you been?”
“Not yet.” River grinned. She’d been considering going back to see them fresh just a while back. “Maybe-“ She stopped herself. Stopped herself before made the offer for him to travel back with her, before she became too much like Him, pulling innocent people into her own mad life. “Maybe some day.”
They chatted about documentaries and archaeology for a while until the food was done and Brian set two plates down before them. River dug in, surprised that she was actually hungry. Things like eating and sleeping tended to slip her mind, especially when she met up with Himself. But Brian fussed on her, offering her the salt shaker and extra napkins, juice or coffee or perhaps tea. It was so sweet and wholesome that she could feel the knot forming in her stomach like a fist.
“Look,” she began. “I really just came to…well, to close up things. It’s not a good idea to leave mysteries lying about, you know.”
He nodded sadly. “I suppose you have lots of exciting plans to get back to.” His unspoken eagerness broke her heart.
“Yeah, you know. Worlds to save, tombs to…catalog.”
Brian laughed. “From what I hear, you give old You-Know-Who a run for his money when it comes to adventuring.”
She winked at him, shoving down the urge to wrap herself in his arms again. “You have no idea!”
He nodded, pushing his plate away. He’d eaten most of the beans and toast. “I’m gonna regret that in about twenty minutes or so,” he joked as he tossed his napkin on the plate. “Come on, Dr. River Song,” he said, offering her a hand.
“Where are we going?”
“I have strict instructions from your dad. On what to do in,” he coughed. “Well, in situations like this.” He took her hand, leading her to a set of stairs. “What we need is in the attic.”
They climbed the stairs together until they reached the attic door. “Rory left a chest up here, for if and when this day came. He said to make sure you…well, you know.” Brian opened the door and flipped a light switch. The attic was filled with boxes and chests, Rory’s Centurian costume and sword, and several of the model TARDISes Amy had created over the years. Brian went straight to a small metal chest in the corner of the room and picked it up. “This is it, then.”
They both looked at the chest, neither wanting to open it up. “Let’s take it downstairs, okay?” River said. She didn’t wait for Brian’s answer. She needed the light of day to take this, and a rainy parlor was highly preferable to a dusty, dark attic for this sort of task.
When they got to the living room, the rain had stopped. A hesitant light pushed past the clouds to form shadows on the carpet.
“Well now, let’s get this done, shall we?” Brian placed the box in front of them on the coffee table as they sat next to each other on the couch. He opened it without ceremony, pulling out a DVD and several packets of letters. On the DVD, the names RORY & AMY WILLIAMS had been printed in black letters. Brian went to the telly, popping the disk into the player and hitting ‘Play.’ Rory and Amy appeared on the screen. Rory began to speak.
Hello, Dad. I hope River is there with you. If you’re watching this, we’re probably gone. Probably in some weird, time-travelly way that you can’t even begin to explain to the neighbors. That’s all right. Just use the car crash excuse. I’ve set aside funds for fake funerals, so you won’t be put out by the expense. I’ve got a life insurance policy with you listed as the beneficiary. It’s not a lot, but it should keep you comfortable. River, I know money isn’t anything you need to worry about, but…”
At this point, Amy interrupted.
River, we want you to keep the house. It’s paid for-the Doctor gave it to us. I know it’s not as fancy as some of the places you’re used to, but it’s a good house. And you need somewhere to call your own. We’ve drawn up a will naming Brian as executor. We’ve left the house to Dr. River Song, our dearest friend. Crazy, right? But don’t listen to the legal papers, you. Your dad and I are leaving this house to Melody Pond Williams, our darling daughter who we love more than anything in the world. We’re sorry we couldn’t give you a normal life, but we want you to have this. We want you to have a home. We’ll be here for you in spirit, in every nook and cranny, watching you grow, being proud of you.
She stopped, looking away from the camera. Rory inhaled deeply, then continued.
It’s all drawn up legal and proper. We knew this was a possibility when we started traveling with the Doctor. Please, Melody, be brave. Know that we always loved you, and we never let a day go by without thinking of our little girl. There’s a stack of letters in there for you. Your mum and I… We wanted you to know us, really know us. So we kept them there for you. Read them when you have time. Know that we love you, Melody. Oh, and Dad?
Rory paused, then smiled, looking straight into the camera.
Take care of your grand-daughter, will you? We love you both. Take care of each other. And..well, I guess that’s it, then. Good-bye.
The vid stopped there, leaving a blue screen on the telly. Brian and River said nothing for a long time. Eventually, Brian looked in the chest and pulled out several stacks of envelopes. They were each dated, dozens of them, thick with papers. And deeper in the box, there were even older letters. Brian pulled them out, and tilted his head in confusion. “This one’s dated 1945?”
River pulled one out. “1948. 1953.” There were decades of letters, all addressed to River, all in Rory’s or Amy’s handwriting. She began to laugh, and then she began to cry again, overwhelmed with the treasure her parents had left her. “Oh, you beautiful, mad people,” she whispered, pressing one of the letters to her lips. It smelled of Amy, and the tears began to flow again. “Thank you,” she whispered to the spirits of her parents lingering in the walls. “Thank you.”
Brian was watching her, smiling gently. “So, maybe you’ll think about sticking around, then? Not all the time. Wouldn’t want to cramp your style. But maybe, just…once in a while? When you need some down-time with your old grand-dad?”
She nodded. Part of her wanted to rip open the letters like an eager child on Christmas morning. But she knew she had time. She had all the time in the world to get to know her family, finally, in her own sweet home.
The End