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Fic: Trust Me (I'm a Lying Liar Who Lies). Chapter 5.
So, next week I'm not just back at work, I'm doing training, so there will significantly longer between updates, sorry...
(Chapter 1 for anyone wishing to catch up. Or just follow the tag.)
Summary: In which River is enigmatic, Martha is frustrated, Mickey is intrigued and the Doctor... is a Pond.
Setting: Post-S6 (spoilers for everything aired so far, including First Night/Last Night and The Christmas Special).
Characters: Martha, Mickey, River, the Doctor (11), OCs. (More characters will probably turn up later.)
Word count (this chapter): 2310 words.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 5
Of course head-butting the tree did nothing at all, except make Martha’s forehead ache. Throwing caution to the wind (because she was so damn tired of where this day had ended up), she snarked: "So, are you two just going snog all day, or do you think you could make time for getting us out of these handcuffs?"
Slowly breaking apart, Professor Pond chuckled, reaching into his inside jacket pocket.
"She sounds just like your mother!" he said, and River raised a finger. What she said next was completely lost on Martha, however, as the Professor brought out a strange looking implement, which none-the-less made a far too familiar buzzing sound as he casually pointed it towards the tree, and the handcuffs sprang off as if by magic.
Martha stared at Mickey, whose jaw had actually dropped, and then they both turned to the couple in front of them, staring at the tweed-clad stranger...
"Doctor?" she asked - for the second time - trying to make the afternoon’s events fit into any kind of logic, and he threw his arms open wide, beaming.
"The one and only! Martha, my d-"
She didn't let him get any further before slapping him soundly across the face, nearly making him lose his footing.
"You lying bastard!" she fumed, and the Doctor at least had the decency to look suitably chastised. Or maybe he was just in pain. Either would do.
"There’s more where that came from, trust me, ‘Professor Pond’! Newly married and all over the moon and daft... You really had a field day, didn't you?"
Seeing the smirk on River's face she turned, her fury in no way diminished.
"And you- "
The Doctor said “Martha-”, instinctively stepping forwards and reaching out, before stopping himself and clasping his hands together awkwardly, looking from her to Mickey to River and back again.
“Martha...” he tried again, “...there’s been far less lying than you think...”
Seeing that she was still looking beyond unimpressed, he seemed to come to some decision or other, and cleared his throat, as he with a flourish turned to River.
“Say, why don’t we begin from the beginning? Martha, Mickey - allow me to introduce River Song, aka Melody Pond, my wife and the bane of my existence.”
A hundred questions were at the tip of Martha’s tongue (how and why and when had he gotten married and how come he’d never told them and where had he been and why had River come alone?), but the final part of his sentence struck her too forcibly to ignore.
“Is that literal?” she asked cuttingly, studying them. “She said she killed you. Now either that was a really tasteless lie to stop that Silurian shooting us, or hey - you’re wife’s going to kill you some day! Better watch out!”
And then she suddenly had to swallow against the lump in her throat, the feelings she’d so successfully managed to keep under control earlier coming back in full force, and she couldn’t keep the accusation out of her voice.
“She made us think you were dead!”
For a long moment he didn’t speak, but she held his eyes, refusing to back down. She remembered this - this need to force him into a corner in order to get a straight answer. And although this new incarnation was about a million miles from the cocksure charmer who’d swept her off her feet, some things apparently never changed...
('I lied to you, 'cause I liked it. I could pretend. Just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, underneath a burnt orange sky...')
She could understand the lying, could probably even forgive this latest one if he’d just explain... Because if River was the sort of person who used lies like this, then why... Well, why everything? Every issue she could think of brought up more questions, and it was just wearying. Nothing made sense.
But then the Doctor closed his eyes, lowering his head in silent defeat, and when he looked up again there was a quiet stillness to him that she had never seen before.
“This was not the best way for you to find out, but... she didn’t lie. River does - did - is going to - kill me,” he said, so gently and matter-of-fact that at first Martha almost didn’t grasp it.
As she struggled to even think of a response, Mickey came to her aid.
"And... you thought that this would be a nice foundation for a relationship?" he asked, incredulous, and the Doctor turned to River, shooting her a curious, private little smile, before shrugging lightly.
“I can think of worse reasons,” he countered, which was no answer at all, and it was River who provided the first glimpse of the possible truth behind everything, her face kind, but guarded.
"We didn’t exactly have much of a choice."
Looking from one to the other Martha had to fight not to physically throw her hands in the air.
“Look I... I don’t understand, OK? Nothing that’s happened here makes sense, and- and you two? With the- the kissing and the arguments and... she kills you? Why? How is any of this-”
She faltered, unsure how to even talk about this.
“You’re going to die? How can you just... stand there and expect me to just accept that? And how are you OK with it? How-”
Tears were burning behind her eyes, and then he just said “Martha” - in much the same way her Mum used to back when she was little and something had upset her - before wrapping her up in a big hug, softly stroking her back as she clung to him for what seemed like ages; and he was all wrong, and yet he was just the Doctor...
“Don’t die,” she said as she tried to compose herself, and he reached out and cradled her cheek.
“Oh Martha, no one lives forever.”
He smiled gently, the cool spring breeze ruffling the floppy fringe which kept getting in his eyes, and she remembered hair which seemed to grow straight up, as well as a recklessness which often bordered on the suicidal... But then he continued, slowly and reflectively:
“And, as I once told Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All, I think it's fair to say that... I've lived my dream, in every way you could imagine. But more than that - more than all the adventures and the stars - I met people like you, my beautiful, brave, magnificent Martha... And that, I think, makes me far luckier than I ever deserved to be.”
She looked at him then, really looked, and marvelled at the transformation, which had nothing to do with the clothing or the face or the hair. The man she had known had been ragged around the edges, brittle and damaged and hurting; clinging onto her even as he pushed her away - an unfathomable loneliness hiding in those beautiful brown eyes, threatening to drown anyone who looked too deeply. What she saw now was... something resembling peace. She still had hundreds of unanswered questions, but this one thing made large swathes of them unimportant: By whichever miracle, he was happy.
“I also have the best wife in the known universe, although I’m sure Mickey will disagree with that... But-” he winked, “Like I said, she’s far scarier than either of you! Which reminds me-”
Eyes dancing he turned to Mickey, long arms enveloping him in an instant.
"Oh Mickey, look at you!"
After another very thorough hug the Doctor beamed at them both, even as his words had brought Martha’s concerns back to the surface. What exactly was the Doctor - her peace-loving, gun-detesting Doctor - doing with a guntoting, dangerous woman... Her train of thought was interrupted by another happy exclamation however.
"Married Companions! This is almost becoming a thing!"
Then he suddenly hit himself on the forehead and turned to River.
"They've never seen us before! Now we can't go to the wedding!"
He looked genuinely upset, and Martha frowned as his words brought back an old, nearly forgotten, memory.
"Hold on... you said you were rubbish at weddings."
Scratching his head, the Doctor looked momentarily stumped.
"I did? Really? Blimey, I sometimes forget how long ago everything is... Well I'm not much good at my own, but otherwise... Weddings are the best!"
He smiled again, that bright infectious grin that obviously never changed, and River chuckled.
"Oh come on, you only go for the dancing..."
This unaccountably made him wave his hands around and look somewhere between cross and excited.
"You left before The Dance Of The Headcoverings! It was brilliant! I wore 17 hats!"
He proudly looked around at his audience, before suddenly turning pensive.
"Although I think I accidentally became engaged to the chief bridesmaid... You know, the tall blue fellow with the two heads? Very nice chap really, but he was only a few weeks away from hibernation, and I didn’t really fancy seven months in a cave. Which is why I came here in a bit of a rush..."
River raised an eloquent eyebrow, but before she could speak Martha cut in.
"Sorry, what's all this about weddings? When I called you were in some kind of battle."
The Doctor looked puzzled.
"Battle?"
"There were big explosions, I heard them!"
River made a little 'aha' noise, and they turned to her.
"That would have been the fireworks. Oh they were gorgeous!"
"Jack does insist on only the best," the Doctor added, and Martha's heart jumped into her throat.
"Jack? You... you went to Jack's wedding?"
The smile she received from River was so unconcerned that for a moment she thought that maybe they were talking about different Jacks.
"Oh we love Jack's weddings. And his stag do’s of course. And... all the other parties he throws. Whenever we feel a bit stuck where to go on a night, we tend to aim for one of his events."
"He's OK then?" she asked cautiously, and the Doctor finally seemed to get her drift, his eyes turning gentle again as he lightly put his hand on her shoulder.
"Yes Martha, he's OK. Time heals all wounds, even the ones that feel unbearable."
'Like mine' she knew he was silently adding, and she wondered how long it had been for him. Yet she was grateful for the evidence in front of her eyes. People got better...
Her thoughts were interrupted by River, who - after shooting the still-sleeping archeologist a ruminative look - turned to the Doctor.
"Sorry to interrupt Sweetie, but I think we should probably get a move on before any of the other archaeologists turn up - I don't really fancy kissing any more to be honest. If you give me my wrist strap back, I can fetch the TARDIS?"
The Doctor nodded and unstrapped the vortex manipulator, but as he handed it over, River caught his eyes.
“You know, I was thinking-” she began, but he cut her off.
“No.”
Seeing that she was opening her mouth (presumably to protest), he continued, watching her intently and speaking very deliberately:
“Your parents were one thing. No one else.”
She sighed, and deftly wrapped the wrist strap around her wrist as she shot him a droll look.
“Fine. But she should've slapped you harder.”
Martha hadn't been paying much attention to the cryptic disagreement, however, as she had suddenly spied an opportunity to speak to River on her own. It wasn't exactly subtle, but she didn't care.
"Would you mind if I came with you?" she asked, and River looked up from programming the wrist strap with a pleasant smile.
"Not at all. You know how these work I presume?"
Martha nodded, and a few breathless moments later they materialised in front of the TARDIS. River got her key out, but instead of opening the door she leaned against it, studying Martha.
"You don't trust me."
Her voice was still perfectly calm and pleasant, but her eyes were cool and cautiously watchful. Martha took a deep breath.
"No."
"And this even though you have seen that the Doctor does..." River tilted her head. "Would you like to know why?"
"Why he trusts you?" Martha asked, and River shook her head.
"No - why you don't. It's perfectly logical."
Martha was by now feeling the beginnings of a major headache, and had to close her eyes for a moment in order to collect herself.
"Look - can you stop being cryptic for just one minute and explain what you're talking about?"
River chuckled, and finally inserted the key. "Well that's exactly what I was proposing - although I think it'll be easier if you come in and I can do a little show-and-tell."
She opened the door, and Martha followed her inside, before abruptly stopping.
"Oh my god. It's... It's completely changed."
River - who had tossed her jacket onto the coat stand with what was obviously long-ingrained habit - smiled widely as she ascended the stairs which now led up to the central console.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" she said, looking around as if she was in love, in such a perfect echo of the Doctor's attitude that Martha had to do a double take. Then she started tapping something in to a keyboard.
"Hold on - this should help explain things. I'm sure you remember this face?"
A giant circular screen to Martha's left sprang to life, and she almost gasped out loud.
Displayed on the screen was the image of a beautiful young black girl, her hair in braids very similar to Martha's own. She was brandishing a gun and smiling wickedly, her face full of determination and a strange sort of dangerous glee.
Martha turned to River, heart beating and chest suddenly too tight and every worry she'd had flaring up again tenfold.
"How... how do you- How could you possibly know about that girl?"
River studied her for a moment, her golden curls framing her face like a halo in the brightness of the new TARDIS, and when she spoke her words were pure impossibility - and yet everything suddenly made sense...
"Because she's me."
Chapter 6.
(Chapter 1 for anyone wishing to catch up. Or just follow the tag.)
Summary: In which River is enigmatic, Martha is frustrated, Mickey is intrigued and the Doctor... is a Pond.
Setting: Post-S6 (spoilers for everything aired so far, including First Night/Last Night and The Christmas Special).
Characters: Martha, Mickey, River, the Doctor (11), OCs. (More characters will probably turn up later.)
Word count (this chapter): 2310 words.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Of course head-butting the tree did nothing at all, except make Martha’s forehead ache. Throwing caution to the wind (because she was so damn tired of where this day had ended up), she snarked: "So, are you two just going snog all day, or do you think you could make time for getting us out of these handcuffs?"
Slowly breaking apart, Professor Pond chuckled, reaching into his inside jacket pocket.
"She sounds just like your mother!" he said, and River raised a finger. What she said next was completely lost on Martha, however, as the Professor brought out a strange looking implement, which none-the-less made a far too familiar buzzing sound as he casually pointed it towards the tree, and the handcuffs sprang off as if by magic.
Martha stared at Mickey, whose jaw had actually dropped, and then they both turned to the couple in front of them, staring at the tweed-clad stranger...
"Doctor?" she asked - for the second time - trying to make the afternoon’s events fit into any kind of logic, and he threw his arms open wide, beaming.
"The one and only! Martha, my d-"
She didn't let him get any further before slapping him soundly across the face, nearly making him lose his footing.
"You lying bastard!" she fumed, and the Doctor at least had the decency to look suitably chastised. Or maybe he was just in pain. Either would do.
"There’s more where that came from, trust me, ‘Professor Pond’! Newly married and all over the moon and daft... You really had a field day, didn't you?"
Seeing the smirk on River's face she turned, her fury in no way diminished.
"And you- "
The Doctor said “Martha-”, instinctively stepping forwards and reaching out, before stopping himself and clasping his hands together awkwardly, looking from her to Mickey to River and back again.
“Martha...” he tried again, “...there’s been far less lying than you think...”
Seeing that she was still looking beyond unimpressed, he seemed to come to some decision or other, and cleared his throat, as he with a flourish turned to River.
“Say, why don’t we begin from the beginning? Martha, Mickey - allow me to introduce River Song, aka Melody Pond, my wife and the bane of my existence.”
A hundred questions were at the tip of Martha’s tongue (how and why and when had he gotten married and how come he’d never told them and where had he been and why had River come alone?), but the final part of his sentence struck her too forcibly to ignore.
“Is that literal?” she asked cuttingly, studying them. “She said she killed you. Now either that was a really tasteless lie to stop that Silurian shooting us, or hey - you’re wife’s going to kill you some day! Better watch out!”
And then she suddenly had to swallow against the lump in her throat, the feelings she’d so successfully managed to keep under control earlier coming back in full force, and she couldn’t keep the accusation out of her voice.
“She made us think you were dead!”
For a long moment he didn’t speak, but she held his eyes, refusing to back down. She remembered this - this need to force him into a corner in order to get a straight answer. And although this new incarnation was about a million miles from the cocksure charmer who’d swept her off her feet, some things apparently never changed...
('I lied to you, 'cause I liked it. I could pretend. Just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, underneath a burnt orange sky...')
She could understand the lying, could probably even forgive this latest one if he’d just explain... Because if River was the sort of person who used lies like this, then why... Well, why everything? Every issue she could think of brought up more questions, and it was just wearying. Nothing made sense.
But then the Doctor closed his eyes, lowering his head in silent defeat, and when he looked up again there was a quiet stillness to him that she had never seen before.
“This was not the best way for you to find out, but... she didn’t lie. River does - did - is going to - kill me,” he said, so gently and matter-of-fact that at first Martha almost didn’t grasp it.
As she struggled to even think of a response, Mickey came to her aid.
"And... you thought that this would be a nice foundation for a relationship?" he asked, incredulous, and the Doctor turned to River, shooting her a curious, private little smile, before shrugging lightly.
“I can think of worse reasons,” he countered, which was no answer at all, and it was River who provided the first glimpse of the possible truth behind everything, her face kind, but guarded.
"We didn’t exactly have much of a choice."
Looking from one to the other Martha had to fight not to physically throw her hands in the air.
“Look I... I don’t understand, OK? Nothing that’s happened here makes sense, and- and you two? With the- the kissing and the arguments and... she kills you? Why? How is any of this-”
She faltered, unsure how to even talk about this.
“You’re going to die? How can you just... stand there and expect me to just accept that? And how are you OK with it? How-”
Tears were burning behind her eyes, and then he just said “Martha” - in much the same way her Mum used to back when she was little and something had upset her - before wrapping her up in a big hug, softly stroking her back as she clung to him for what seemed like ages; and he was all wrong, and yet he was just the Doctor...
“Don’t die,” she said as she tried to compose herself, and he reached out and cradled her cheek.
“Oh Martha, no one lives forever.”
He smiled gently, the cool spring breeze ruffling the floppy fringe which kept getting in his eyes, and she remembered hair which seemed to grow straight up, as well as a recklessness which often bordered on the suicidal... But then he continued, slowly and reflectively:
“And, as I once told Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All, I think it's fair to say that... I've lived my dream, in every way you could imagine. But more than that - more than all the adventures and the stars - I met people like you, my beautiful, brave, magnificent Martha... And that, I think, makes me far luckier than I ever deserved to be.”
She looked at him then, really looked, and marvelled at the transformation, which had nothing to do with the clothing or the face or the hair. The man she had known had been ragged around the edges, brittle and damaged and hurting; clinging onto her even as he pushed her away - an unfathomable loneliness hiding in those beautiful brown eyes, threatening to drown anyone who looked too deeply. What she saw now was... something resembling peace. She still had hundreds of unanswered questions, but this one thing made large swathes of them unimportant: By whichever miracle, he was happy.
“I also have the best wife in the known universe, although I’m sure Mickey will disagree with that... But-” he winked, “Like I said, she’s far scarier than either of you! Which reminds me-”
Eyes dancing he turned to Mickey, long arms enveloping him in an instant.
"Oh Mickey, look at you!"
After another very thorough hug the Doctor beamed at them both, even as his words had brought Martha’s concerns back to the surface. What exactly was the Doctor - her peace-loving, gun-detesting Doctor - doing with a guntoting, dangerous woman... Her train of thought was interrupted by another happy exclamation however.
"Married Companions! This is almost becoming a thing!"
Then he suddenly hit himself on the forehead and turned to River.
"They've never seen us before! Now we can't go to the wedding!"
He looked genuinely upset, and Martha frowned as his words brought back an old, nearly forgotten, memory.
"Hold on... you said you were rubbish at weddings."
Scratching his head, the Doctor looked momentarily stumped.
"I did? Really? Blimey, I sometimes forget how long ago everything is... Well I'm not much good at my own, but otherwise... Weddings are the best!"
He smiled again, that bright infectious grin that obviously never changed, and River chuckled.
"Oh come on, you only go for the dancing..."
This unaccountably made him wave his hands around and look somewhere between cross and excited.
"You left before The Dance Of The Headcoverings! It was brilliant! I wore 17 hats!"
He proudly looked around at his audience, before suddenly turning pensive.
"Although I think I accidentally became engaged to the chief bridesmaid... You know, the tall blue fellow with the two heads? Very nice chap really, but he was only a few weeks away from hibernation, and I didn’t really fancy seven months in a cave. Which is why I came here in a bit of a rush..."
River raised an eloquent eyebrow, but before she could speak Martha cut in.
"Sorry, what's all this about weddings? When I called you were in some kind of battle."
The Doctor looked puzzled.
"Battle?"
"There were big explosions, I heard them!"
River made a little 'aha' noise, and they turned to her.
"That would have been the fireworks. Oh they were gorgeous!"
"Jack does insist on only the best," the Doctor added, and Martha's heart jumped into her throat.
"Jack? You... you went to Jack's wedding?"
The smile she received from River was so unconcerned that for a moment she thought that maybe they were talking about different Jacks.
"Oh we love Jack's weddings. And his stag do’s of course. And... all the other parties he throws. Whenever we feel a bit stuck where to go on a night, we tend to aim for one of his events."
"He's OK then?" she asked cautiously, and the Doctor finally seemed to get her drift, his eyes turning gentle again as he lightly put his hand on her shoulder.
"Yes Martha, he's OK. Time heals all wounds, even the ones that feel unbearable."
'Like mine' she knew he was silently adding, and she wondered how long it had been for him. Yet she was grateful for the evidence in front of her eyes. People got better...
Her thoughts were interrupted by River, who - after shooting the still-sleeping archeologist a ruminative look - turned to the Doctor.
"Sorry to interrupt Sweetie, but I think we should probably get a move on before any of the other archaeologists turn up - I don't really fancy kissing any more to be honest. If you give me my wrist strap back, I can fetch the TARDIS?"
The Doctor nodded and unstrapped the vortex manipulator, but as he handed it over, River caught his eyes.
“You know, I was thinking-” she began, but he cut her off.
“No.”
Seeing that she was opening her mouth (presumably to protest), he continued, watching her intently and speaking very deliberately:
“Your parents were one thing. No one else.”
She sighed, and deftly wrapped the wrist strap around her wrist as she shot him a droll look.
“Fine. But she should've slapped you harder.”
Martha hadn't been paying much attention to the cryptic disagreement, however, as she had suddenly spied an opportunity to speak to River on her own. It wasn't exactly subtle, but she didn't care.
"Would you mind if I came with you?" she asked, and River looked up from programming the wrist strap with a pleasant smile.
"Not at all. You know how these work I presume?"
Martha nodded, and a few breathless moments later they materialised in front of the TARDIS. River got her key out, but instead of opening the door she leaned against it, studying Martha.
"You don't trust me."
Her voice was still perfectly calm and pleasant, but her eyes were cool and cautiously watchful. Martha took a deep breath.
"No."
"And this even though you have seen that the Doctor does..." River tilted her head. "Would you like to know why?"
"Why he trusts you?" Martha asked, and River shook her head.
"No - why you don't. It's perfectly logical."
Martha was by now feeling the beginnings of a major headache, and had to close her eyes for a moment in order to collect herself.
"Look - can you stop being cryptic for just one minute and explain what you're talking about?"
River chuckled, and finally inserted the key. "Well that's exactly what I was proposing - although I think it'll be easier if you come in and I can do a little show-and-tell."
She opened the door, and Martha followed her inside, before abruptly stopping.
"Oh my god. It's... It's completely changed."
River - who had tossed her jacket onto the coat stand with what was obviously long-ingrained habit - smiled widely as she ascended the stairs which now led up to the central console.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" she said, looking around as if she was in love, in such a perfect echo of the Doctor's attitude that Martha had to do a double take. Then she started tapping something in to a keyboard.
"Hold on - this should help explain things. I'm sure you remember this face?"
A giant circular screen to Martha's left sprang to life, and she almost gasped out loud.
Displayed on the screen was the image of a beautiful young black girl, her hair in braids very similar to Martha's own. She was brandishing a gun and smiling wickedly, her face full of determination and a strange sort of dangerous glee.
Martha turned to River, heart beating and chest suddenly too tight and every worry she'd had flaring up again tenfold.
"How... how do you- How could you possibly know about that girl?"
River studied her for a moment, her golden curls framing her face like a halo in the brightness of the new TARDIS, and when she spoke her words were pure impossibility - and yet everything suddenly made sense...
"Because she's me."
Chapter 6.