For a split second, the Doctor was confused. And confused wasn't a state of being he found himself in very often. But one moment, the glowing, golden rays of regeneration energy were floating around his head, rushing through his body, and River's lips – her wonderful, soft lips were pressed against his, and it was the absolute most glorious feeling in the world. The next second, however, all of those feelings were gone – no more tingle of regeneration energy and no more River leaning over his prone form, her lips against his skin and her teary smile mere inches from his face, captivating his senses as he was pulled from the brink of death.

In that fraction of a second where his brain struggled to catch up to the action of the moment, the Doctor had no idea what was going on, couldn't even precisely remember what had just happened. But then, in no time at all, it all came rushing back. Rushing wasn't even the correct word. With his brain now back to working at full speed, it was more as if the missing information simply popped into existence in his mind, and the moment it did, he shot up from his position on the floor, a horrified gasp on his lips. "No!"

He scrambled up onto his knees, turning only a few degrees until his eyes found their target. "No, no, no, no! River!" He leaned over her desperately, hands quickly finding her face, cupping them desperately. He pressed his fingers to the side of her neck then lowered himself quickly to press his ear against her chest, finding not even the beat of a single heart.

He was vaguely aware of Amy and Rory only a few feet away, clutching onto each other and calling him, frantically asking questions, but they would have to wait. He couldn't be bothered with placating them when River was lying unconscious on the cold, marble floor, not even breathing after doing such a stupid and reckless thing.

Panicked, he leant over her too-still body and kissed her. He kissed her like she'd just kissed him. He brought his one hand up to her face and buried the other in her newly-acquired bunch of curls, stroking his fingers gently, soothingly, over her cheek and scalp, hoping the tenderness might help.

He broke away. There was no tell-tale golden glow signifying that his own attempt at the Kiss of Life, at giving her wasted regeneration energy back to her, had worked.

"Come on!" he growled impatiently, then leaned down and kissed her desperately once more, unconcerned with his friends nearby staring at his frenzied attempts to bring their daughter back to life like he were a madman (but of course he was a madman, he always warned them. And if him being a madman brought her back... well, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.)

She couldn't die here. She didn't die here. He knew that, not here, not right at the start. And it really was the start, or it should have been at least. This was only – he had to count quickly in his head – her third face? She should have had so many more to come, but now this solidified it. Ever since he'd found out what she was – that she was like him, that she could very likely regenerate – he'd blindly hoped that she was so much further into her life when he'd first met her.

Today's events had reminded him that he was now on his very last regeneration and he'd found himself hoping rather blindly for just a moment, that he could have seen her through the whole gamut of her faces before he sent her off to the Library with her final one. But then reality had sunk in and reminded him that this was her final face. And he knew it was ridiculous, that her fate at the Library would have been sealed whether she'd had more regenerations or not, but he couldn't help thinking through the panic that maybe this was the reason why – because she'd stupidly given all of her remaining lives to him.

And, he couldn't help thinking, he'd really only just gotten her. It hadn't been all that long before Demon's Run that she'd first kissed him, that she'd finally pushed him just far enough over the edge to not only actually seriously consider the idea of them but also rather look forward to it. And then after finding out who she was – what she was – and all the time he'd spent with her since... he'd spent ages and ages traveling around with the older River who'd come to him at Demon's Run, ages talking with her, laughing with her, exploring and adventuring and getting into life or death situations with her. He'd spent ages getting to know her in ways he'd never allowed himself to before, learning how she liked to be kissed, how she liked to be touched, learning the way each and every inch of her skin felt when pressed up against his own bare flesh.

While her parents thought he was off hunting for a way to rescue little Melody Pond, he'd been off learning to love River Song – and he'd be damned if all of that ended right here.

Stubbornly refusing to continue thinking on that, he gave it one more go, kissing her gently but with the desperation only a fool in love could muster, trying to force the regeneration energy from his body and into hers through sheer force of will. With his lips still pressed to hers, he was already planning his next move – an attempt at regular old humany-CPR – when he felt and then immediately saw a tiny burst of energy start to waft over River's face.

He drew back and checked her breathing once more – it hadn't been a lot, not enough to pull her to a state of consciousness, and certainly not the full reverse transfer he'd been hoping to achieve, but her hearts were beating. Slowly, much too slowly for sure, but at least it was something. She was alive and he was happy enough to settle for one miracle at a time for now.

He pulled away and sighed in relief, bringing his hands up to cover his face as he took a steadying breath. Only then did he allow himself to turn around and give his attention to Amy and Rory.

They were standing only a little closer than they had been a few minutes before, still wrapped in each others' arms with twin looks of worry on their faces. They were obviously desperate for answers but trying to remain calm enough to let him work, which he appreciated. Of course the way in which he'd been working – by kissing their freshly regenerated daughter who'd put them all through the ringer that day, back to life, made it so that when he finally addressed the pair of them, it was with his eyes slightly averted and a small blush on his cheeks.

"She'll be all right," he said quietly, one hand still curled protectively behind River's head.

Amy and Rory shared a glance between themselves, as if trying to decide who was going to speak up, but the Doctor was unsurprised to hear Amy's voice address him first.

"She doesn't look all right." Her voice was quiet, cautious and worried, but he could still hear her normal brash tone lingering beneath the worried-and-incredibly-confused mother persona she was adopting at the moment, fighting to uphold her usual confidence even now.

"That's because she's not," he answered softly, looking back and forth between his companions and River, unsure how to choose which needed to be in his line of site more at the moment, feeling it should be on Amy and Rory, but unable to fully tear it from River. "Not yet at least. Her hearts are just barely beating but that's an improvement from a minute ago at least. But she'll be fine, we just need to get her out of here."

He stood slowly and took a moment to look mournfully down at River's nearly lifeless body but when he saw Rory move closer, to help carry her into the Tardis no doubt, the Doctor stooped swiftly to lift her securely into his own arms. If pressed, he wouldn't be able to explain it properly, but he was suddenly filled with an intense feeling of overprotectiveness, possessiveness even, and he didn't want anyone, not even her father, to touch her just now.

He straightened his back and secured his hold on her, eyes locking onto Rory and Amy, the message in them clear before he started lumbering, only a little unsteadily under the weight in his arms, up the steps and over to the Tardis, whose doors popped open without any prodding on his part. He murmured his thanks to his ship and walked through the doorway, striding inside until he reached the jump seat on the side on the console, depositing River gently onto it. He felt the joint presence of Amy and Rory huddled silently behind him still but allowed himself one last moment of tenderness he would normally avoid in front of other people, and brushed his fingers through her wild curls once more, pressing a kiss to her forehead before rising slowly to his feet.

Steeling himself, he twirled around and clapped his hands enthusiastically, putting on a show for his friends in an attempt to mask his worry. "Right then. First of all, we have to get out of here. I'm sure Hitler's men have discovered him in that cupboard and following our trail to this building shouldn't be too difficult. We're safe inside the Tardis, of course, but the old girl does get ever so cross when people start shooting at her, as we learned earlier today."

He bounded over to the console and started the sequence to send them hurtling into the vortex, the only slip in his usual enthusiasm being that he was very careful to leave the breaks off this time, not wanting to to jostle the still-unconscious River any more than necessary.

Now that he'd started moving and acting once more, he could no longer continue to ignore the questions Amy and Rory were throwing at him. River was breathing at least, so they were out of the most immediate of dangers but he still didn't want to leave her too long before getting her somewhere she could actually get help. As possibilities sprang to mind for him to quickly discard from the list, he turned back around to address her parents. "I assume you have questions?"

Only mildly irritated that he hadn't been paying them a lick of attention over the past minutes, Amy and Rory shared another look before Amy once more took the reins. "You said she was gonna be ok, yeah? She – she doesn't look ok. And what happened back there? She was fine, there was nothing wrong with her, but then she brings you back, and now she's – she's -" Amy could only gesture helplessly over at River's nearly-lifeless form, unable to express herself without becoming an uncharacteristically emotional Amy Pond.

"Right now, she's unconscious," he explained lightly. His hands grasped the edge of the console as he leaned back against it. "I was dead, for just a moment there, I was properly dead, or at least as close as one can possibly get without being un-savable. When she tried to bring me back, it took so much Regeneration energy to get the job done that I think – I'm almost positive – that it completely drained her. Used up all her lives," he said bitterly, turning to look at the subject of their conversation.

If she weren't lying half-dead on his jump seat right now, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his anger at the utter stupidity of her actions at bay. He was absolutely furious that she'd condemned herself to save him. She had to know, especially this young and so fresh out of her lessons on how horrible he was, so shortly after killing him, that his life was not worth the price of hers. But just looking at her lying there, silent and helpless and so utterly not-River that it made his hearts ache, he couldn't help but let the anger slip away.

"But she's alive? And you said she'll be all right?" It was Rory who spoke now, his voice haggard and wary, worried, confused, and just tired."

"Yes," the Doctor assured them, "When I first woke up, she wasn't breathing and both of her hearts had stopped, but I was able to er... get them started again, was able to transfer just enough energy back to her to keep her alive. But she's not completely out of the woods yet – we have to get help and I think I know just the place!"

"Help? Help, like – like a hospital help?" Rory asked more urgently, the nurse in him surely coming out now. "But where? Who could possibly be equipped – I mean it's still insane to think about, but she's not exactly human, is she? She's more like you than us and your people are gone. Who's left that we could go to?"

But the Doctor was already plotting their next trip, being sure to set the coordinates exactly right - it wouldn't do to end up in a war zone when they were trying to reach a hospital. As his fingers moved swiftly across the console, the Doctor allowed himself to give the Ponds just enough attention to answer Rory's questions. "First of all, technically she's Human Plus – Human DNA but with all the biological qualities of a Time Lord, including the two hearts and ability to Regenerate. And yes, we're going to a hospital – the hospital of the Sisters of the Infinite Schism. The best hospital in the universe. They're equipped to treat just about anyone and they specialize in rare species. If anyone can help, it'll be them."

Just as he finished speaking, the Tardis landed softly. With one last look at Amy and Rory, the Doctor strode over to where River was lying and scooped her once more up into his arms. Without bothering to turn around, he called out, "Well, come on you two, let's go!" and strode out the Tardis doors.

The next twenty-four hours found none of them, except River of course, finding any rest. Amy and Rory were found at first pacing the waiting room, and then waiting by their daughter's side for her to wake up, taking only short breaks for air or food, or some other brief distraction from the mindless pursuit of waiting.

As for the Doctor, waiting had never been his strong suit. Normally he couldn't stand waiting of any sort, preferring to jump forward in time even a few hours or minutes rather than wait for most things. But after spending several hours speaking to and working with the medical doctors at the hospital on the best course of treatment for River, he found that waiting was the only thing he were capable of doing.

Being a Time Lord was certainly useful in situations like these. He could slow down all of his bodily functions so that he didn't have to move from the seat he'd planted himself in by her bedside even once, not to stretch his legs, not to use the loo, and not to eat or drink (despite Amy trying to force food from the hospital cafeteria onto him, which wouldn't have even required him to move - but even the prospect of shifting his attention to food instead of River right now was unthinkable). He'd even caught his respiratory bypass starting to kick in a time or two, too focused on just simply watching River and waiting for her to wake to even breathe for the few moments before he caught himself.

He'd allowed himself to leave her side only once and he was very strict with himself that it wold only be for five minutes. Five minutes for her and for Amy and Rory, who he left behind to watch out for her, and only an hour for himself. But he knew the next steps Melody Pond (because despite the idea he had of his River in his head, in all actuality, the woman in that hospital bed was still in many, many ways Melody Pond. Or Mels Zucker, as she'd gone by in her last incarnation. She may start to go by the name River Song from this moment out, but she'd only taken the first step towards becoming River Song. Still, he reminded himself, that first step was the most important) would need to make and he needed to do a little preparing to set her on the right track.

So he made a quick trip to Luna University in the same year River was lying in the hospital and picked up a card with the contact information for a Professor Candy, the man River had mentioned recently as being her mentor during University. He hoped once River was well enough to leave the Sisters that the card would serve as the clue to what she should do next or at least kickstart the idea that it's what she would want to do next.

Then of course, he spent the rest of his allotted time in the Tardis, helping his machine craft two of those very blue books that he always associated with River and her spoilers. This was now her beginning and River Song could not go forth into the universe without a diary. This was where he gave it to her. And at some point in the past, River had mentioned that he also kept a diary of their meetings together. He'd resisted the very idea like he'd resisted the idea of her but now it just felt like time.

So with the help of the Tardis, he crafted two identical Tardis-like blue leather journals, both fitted with a perception filter to be bigger on the inside (because he was determined to have years and years with her in this final life of the both of theirs, centuries even, and one tiny not-bigger-on-the-inside book simply wasn't big enough), as well as waterproof, fireproof, and pretty much any other kind of proof he could whip up.

He placed his copy of the little blue book into his bedroom, which over the months and months (and maybe even longer, he'd lost track. It had been three months for Amy and Rory, but certainly a good deal longer for him) he'd been traveling on-and-off-but-mostly-on with a few different versions of River, he'd come to start thinking more as theirs. He then tooks her copy, wrapped it in a bow, stuck it in his jacket pocket, and strode back into the hospital, sitting in the same chair he'd vacated only five minutes previously, and returning to his unmoving vigil.

When she finally did wake, more than a day after being admitted, her eyes blinking slowly open and her demeanor groggy and exhausted, he surprised Amy and Rory and even himself by stepping back and allowing the two of them to have their moment with her, content enough that she was finally awake, even if only for a short time before she fell back to sleep. She'd pulled through but he was still filled with enough shame and guilt for being the cause of her being in this state in the first place to be able to interact with her directly just yet. Amy and Rory were much better equipped for that.

He allowed himself only to impart one piece of wisdom – a reminder for them all, "The Doctor lies," before the nurse spoke up, telling them that River would be "just fine."

That stuck with him. That was wrong. "No, she won't," he found himself saying, almost mournfully as he gazed down at her, already slipping back under the spell of sleep. He took that moment to pull the diary, the one soon to start being filled with her life and their adventures together, theirstory, out of his pocket and place it delicately on her bedside table.

Because River Song had never been fine a day in her life. Unless of course, you were using the more colloquial use of the word, in which it was more of a synonym for hot, or beautiful, or sexy, because of course any idiot could see-

But he was getting off topic.

The point was that never in her life had River Song simply been fine. Fine was just not a word anywhere near strong enough to encapsulate the gloriousness, the strength, the sheer awe-inspiring brilliance that River Song lived up to every day of her life, like a fantastical storybook character come to life. That word didn't exist in any language either he or the Tardis herself knew, and if it did, he just hadn't found it yet.

"She will be amazing." It wasn't perfect, wasn't anywhere near good enough, but he supposed it would do for now.