#for those that don't know rasd is a post library season 7 canon divergent series

[xhellnhighheelsx]

Prompt from the 100 ways to say I love you list: “Go back to sleep.” (Bonus if you did this in ATRIRAS universe because I am such a huge fan ;)

Funnily enough, this scene already exists in ch13 of rasd, but I wrote you another one because ily. This is also for @sonickedtrowel since I’m going to do angsty horrible things with your prompt

Go back to sleep

She talks in her sleep. For aslong as he can remember, he's watched over River as she slept. He’d sit up andlisten to her mumble about bullets and ballgowns and everything in between. Shemutters about anything from paradoxes to pastries, her incoherent ramblingsnever failing to captivate him.

When he was younger, he would tryto read his future in the way her eyes danced behind her lids. More often thannot, she would awake with a start, a gasp on her lips and fear hidden behindcalculating eyes. He always wondered what could scare her, this specter whohaunted him so. What did she dream of, this woman who so clearly read his everythought?

He dared to find out once, a longtime ago when he wore a different face. Even when he delved into her sleepingmind, he was never brave enough to dig deep. Fear of spoilers had always loomedlike a pit between them, her past, her thoughts, her secrets just an abyss he’dfall into and be consumed by.

Those fears can’t touch him now,not in the wake of everything they’ve been through. The future isn’t a chainthat holds him down. It’s a possibility that gives him wings. There's no morecause to run, no dark days to come hiding in her subconscious. Their tangledtime lines have been unraveled, and yet, there's still so much about her hecan't quite define.

River lies beside him on the bed,nestled between pillows and sheets. She's been dreaming contently for hours oreons, and his own eyes are just beginning to grow heavy when he hears a softmoan escape her lips. The sound of it jolts his body awake, his mind draggedback into focus. When his blinking eyes comes to, he notices her features haveslipped, her easy smile replaced by tight lips. Her brow has knit together, andhe finds the soft frown doesn’t suit at all.

His fingertips move of their ownaccord, brushing over her forehead until the lines have been smoothed away. Thesoft touch bids her lips to part, and the Doctor smiles to see the way herunease is undone by a simple caress of his fingers. Her reprieve lasts only aslong as his skin meets hers, because the moment he lowers his hand, herfeatures contort once again. A pained frown tugs at her sweet lips, and he'shelpless to stop the way his fingers gravitate to her temple once more.

Her mind calls to him like the sundoes to flower petals, and he finds himself pulled toward the warmth of hersubconscious. There's no spoilers to stop him now, and he’s suddenly overcomewith the need to come between her and whatever monsters cloud her dreams. His eyes fall shut as the window between themopens, a wave of adrenaline swallowing him whole. Her mind is a tapestry ofgreens and golds, of burnt ambers and freshly cut grass, of sunsets and spaceand shadows, of books and bright lights and the need for something blue.

She’s running from someone, ofcourse she is. His River is always knee deep in trouble, even in her dreams. Herhearts are pounding and something sharp and metallic licks at his mind. Fear,he realizes, and the Doctor's own oxygen freezes in his lungs. Without asecond thought, he presses ever so gently into her mind, projecting himselfinto her dream. Her thoughts are clearer now, the deeper he goes. It smellslike rain and mud and dust, and his hand covers hers, fingers entwining.River's breath hitches the moment he does, but she doesn't stir from herslumber. She grips him tight, like she dreams of their carefully claspedfingers whenever dangers nips at her heels, like his hand is a lifeline she'sreached for countless times before.

The shiver in her veins fades,replaced by the feel of something synthetic. It feels thick as cotton in hismouth, and ifdéjà vu had a taste, this would be it. It’s odd, to be an abstractthought tip-toeing in someone else’s subconscious. Even for a dream, it feelssurreal, somehow lacking, almost but not quite. River looks as real as ever,standing in a dress as white as the wedding gown she never got to wear. Shesmiles at him like all her Christmases have come at once, and he tries not tolet his own swelling joy bleed into her dreams. He tries to float among herthoughts even as his feet are planted firmly in her mind. Grass tickles betweenhis toes and the sight of a nearby lake nearly makes him choke. But River'spulse is steady, subdued, and he doesn’t understand why until he looks past herfor the first time.

A child with dark hair waves fromthe distance, and he knows now, why the air tastes like copper and dust andcomputer code. His fingers coil tight around River’s hand, pulling her towardhim, away from this place until her eyes can see nothing but him. There’s nopoint in dreaming about the past when they have so much left to discover. He takes control of the dream, pressingharder into her mind until their surroundings fade away. Greens and blues turnto smoke around them as he guides her into sweeter visions.

River’s eyes break from his totake in their new location. They’re standing on a crystallized ice cloud,ankle deep in ivory cotton and surrounded by black, star specked sky. And whenshe looks back to him, she smiles like she’s got a secret just begging to slipfrom her lips. Her arms fold around his neck and as his hands find her hips, hediscovers her dress has changed. It’s red and radiant and distracting, theneckline plunging in a way only her mind could conjure. He takes the firststep, or maybe she does, but the next thing he knows they're dancing, gliding,spinning, stirring up the clouds at their feet until wisps of fluffy whitefloat around them like bubbles before sailing off into black sky.

The air no longer tastessynthetic. It’s as fresh as a memory, as her perfume and ozone and the faintesthint of wine. Her laughter may as we’ll be music as he spins her out only topull her back in again. She twirls and the light from distant suns reflects offher hair like sprinkles of gold dust. River presses herself into him, her chestwarm against his, and it’s hard to believe that it’s nothing more than amirage.  

“It’s very rude, you know,” Rivercoos, her words echoing in his mind, voice light as the clouds they stand on.

His palm finds her lower back,pulling her in closer, his own question floating into her subconscious. “Whatis?”

River smirks at him, coy and sweetand he’s so lost in the way the starlight catches on the apples of her cheeksit’s almost alarming when he hears her say, “Peeking into people’s dreams.”

The Doctor snaps his eyes open,finding River staring back at him. The smell of ozone vanishes like a clothripped from a table, cotton clouds replaced by satin sheets. The warmth oftheir bedroom is a blanket surrounding him, and on pain of death he’ll swearthat’s why his cheeks have gone red as he argues, “You’re not people.

“I’m half people,” River countersand the Doctor shrugs.

“Well it’s only half rude, then,isn’t it.”

Green eyes narrow as River stiflesa yawn, managing to glare at him all the while. It’s adorable and only slightlyterrifying and the Doctor bites back his own smile, eyes soft.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Goback to sleep.”

“I’d rather be awake.”  A devious twinkle sparks to life around heririses as River snakes one of her clever hands across the duvet. But the Doctoris faster, snatching the limb up before his wife can have her wicked way.

“I’ll bet you would,” he grins,pressing her knuckles to his lips. But as much as he’d like to tucker her outagain, “You need rest.”

“And you don’t?”

“Nope.”

His wife scoffs, rolling her eyes.“Hypocrite.”

“Harlot,” he grins back, andRiver’s eyes narrow once again, jaw clenching as she bites back another yawn.

He pulls her toward him then,tucking her into his side. River nuzzles into his chest with a tenderness she’dcut her own tongue off before ever admitting to, a sigh on her lips as shemutters, “You don’t have to do that.”

The Doctor presses his face intoher mass of hair, inhaling deep and delighting in the smell of honey and sweatand the faintest hint of smoke. “Do what?”

“Supervise my dreams.”

He does, in fact. He’s made apromise to himself, no more nightmares, not in this new life they’re building.If that means he has to stay awake forever to guarantee nightmares never stealher smiles and drag her to dark places, then so be it. But she’d never acceptsuch an answer, so instead the Doctor scoffs and says, “Who said anything aboutthat? Maybe I’m just nosy.”

River snorts, a puff of hot airagainst his chest. “No arguments here.”

“A first time for everything,” hemumbles back, words swallowed by her riotous curls.

Even as they bicker, his arms foldever tighter around her. It still doesn’t feel real, as if she’ll turn to smokeat any moment. He tells himself she won’t, the reminder that she's here to staya mantra in his head he plays on repeat. But nothing reassures him the wayRiver can. Her palm rests over his hearts like the sound of it is all thelullaby she’ll ever need to keep the nightmares at bay.

Stillness settles like a full moonon a cloudless night. River’s eyes have fallen shut again, her hearts a slowand steady rhythm, her voice already heavy with sleep. “Won’t you rest at all,darling?”

“Not tired,” he breathes, and whathe means is, he doesn’t want to miss this. He refuses to waste another momentwith her. He’d rather hold her and count the breathes she takes as her chestrises and falls. He’d rather study her face and the way she smiles as she sinksslowly into slumber.

“Join me in my dreams then,” Riverwhispers.

The invitation paints a smile onhis lips. Unable to deny her anything, he brings his hand up to cup her face,fingertips brushing her temple. Her mind sparks against his skin, and theDoctor takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of her shampoo.When he exhales, he’s back in the moonlight of her mind. River reaches for him,a tingle against his palm as he takes her hand in his and guides her into thesweetest of dreams.

(pick a prompt)

#ask #river song #drfic #doctor who #eleventh doctor #my fic #drabbles #for those that don't know rasd is a post library season 7 canon divergent series #this excerpt takes place between the two stories #Anonymous