Hey everyone.

Damnit, I feel too many things for Eleven/River.

And I watched Forest of the Dead for a chronology post I made on Tumblr the other day, and this has been all I could think of ever since.

And yeah, I know I'm bending the rules of the Universe for this, but... they didn't touch. Rose and baby!Rose only created a paradox when they touched.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it. All rights to Doctor Who and affiliated products belong to the BBC and the other proper entities.

Summary: "She was brave." The Doctor said. The other man gave a heartbroken smile. "They're always brave. Every last one of them. But she was so much more." Somewhere, out there in Time, their story was just beginning again. Features the Tenth Doctor and Donna.

Rating: K+

Genre: Tragedy/Romance

Warnings: None.

Endless

The Doctor and Donna stood at the back of the service, near the doors. The large portrait of Professor Song hung over the closed casket, acting as the visual reminder, rather than the burned remains of the once-beautiful woman. Her smile was bright, her wild golden-brown curls dancing in the wind, rather than pulled back into the ponytail she'd worn in the Library. He could see pieces of the people on either side of her, just cut out of the frame. Bright red hair on one side. An arm clad in brown tweed around River's shoulders.

The cleric who held the service spoke of how her life had been a jumble of terrible circumstances, and how she would be remembered with a bright smile and laughter in her voice. He could see that. She'd died with a smile. The same smile that had haunted his waking and sleeping hours, ever since that moment, three days ago.

Honestly, the Doctor couldn't force himself to pay too much attention to the words. He knew they shouldn't be there—his future self was likely to be there, somewhere. If she knew his name, then he must have been her…

…well, he must have regenerated by now, because he couldn't see his own face in the first few rows.

He wasn't going to come, but Donna had insisted. "I wouldn't be here if she hadn't done what she did." She'd said that morning, in a rare moment of humility. "I want to pay my respects. I want to do it now, before whatever happens to me—"

So they found themselves watching on, Donna dabbing at her cheeks silently with a tissue. The Doctor felt numb; he hated attending the funerals of people that he'd lost. Even if he didn't officially know her yet.

Maybe his future self wasn't there, after all. Why would he willingly do this twice?

The service wound down and Donna approached the front, intending to leave one of the piled white roses atop the casket. It was a proper, traditional Earth funeral, even though it took place on the Moon. Her body would be incinerated later and spread from a space ship afterwards, most likely.

She'd already been given as close to a Time Lord burial as possible. He had given her one. Would give her one. Ensured her mind would live on. This was just… taking care of the shell.

It still almost killed him.

Donna seemed speechless as she carefully placed the flower on the shiny wooden coffin and stepped back. The Doctor reached out to rest his hand on the polished mahogany. "Thank you, River Song." He managed to say, closing his eyes for a moment. Hand still on the coffin, he raised his eyes to the man who had appeared on the other side of Donna—who also had a palm pressed to the wood, but who stared at the picture above their heads.

"She was brave." The Doctor said to the other man.

"Oh, you have no idea." The other man said with a fond, if heartbroken smile. "She was mad, and impossible, and—" he couldn't finish his sentence, pinching his nose with his free hand while trying to stop his chin from shaking. "They're always brave. Every last one of them. But she was so much more."

"You told her our name."

"So will you, one day."

The Doctor tore his eyes from the man to rest on Donna's confused gaze. "I'll explain later." He promised in a low voice.

"It gets easier," the other man gave another sad smile, "to spend time with her. She'll—she makes you feel like there's an eternity in a moment. You'll see."

"So I was right, then." The Doctor swallowed. "About who she is to me. To us."

"Spoilers." His older self turned to face him fully, a half-hearted grin pulling at his lips. "You should go. It's dangerous for us to both be here; we might create a paradox. And I have to stay." His face fell again as he turned back to the casket. "Thank you for coming. Both of you."

The Doctor nodded and took Donna's hand, towing her from the room. They were silent until they reached the TARDIS, where the Doctor made sure to turn the breaks off out of respect. These people were trying to mourn, and the last thing they needed was the sound of the TARDIS ripping through the air.

"Doctor?" Donna asked quietly, from her seat. "Who was that?"

"That was me. That was the future me."

Centuries later, the Doctor arrived for his beloved wife's funeral, feeling even less prepared for it than he had the first time around. He caught sight of himself and Donna in the back during the service, and managed to smile.

A never-ending circle. Somewhere, out there in Time, their story was just beginning again. Never ending, just meeting and beginning again. An endless paradox.

Just like River.

Thanks for reading.

Sparkly Faerie