When she wakes a second time her parents and the Doctor are gone. On the table beside her hospital bed she finds a blue notebook and what looks like an early twentieth century movie projector. The book is without explanation, a simple red ribbon the only item accompanying it. A single sheet of paper lies beside the movie projector. A message in her own handwriting: This is an image of the creatures that held you as a child, Silents. Anything that you are told while looking at them you will do. It is impossible to remember the Silents.

Mels – no, River, she is River now, she promises herself at regular intervals – holds the paper in trembling hands. Such a simple explanation for a life she can only half remember, a life full of enough painful memories that she has never tried too hard to fill in the missing pieces.

Mels has been leaving herself notes her whole life. Little reminders – to take out the trash, to come straight home from school because she had weapons training in the afternoon, to be strong. The last one she never put in those words. Instead she wrote the words Mount Everest. Not because it was an insurmountable climb, some sort of melodramatic metaphor that her literature teachers wished she would use in her essays. No, Mount Everest would be her first vacation once she was free. A time lord circulatory system meant that she could withstand the altitude easily, and she had been itching to visit the highest point on Earth for years. So Mels promised herself all through her second childhood that if she could fight just a while longer she could make her own destiny, take her own vacations, be free of the Church.

Mels had known that she has being raised with one purpose, and she had known that she was strong. She had hoped that when she accomplished her purpose she could run and this time the Silence would refuse to work hard enough to find a woman for whom they have no use anymore. And even if they tried, this time maybe it wouldn't matter because she was stronger than she had been at 7 years old. They had trained her to be strong, stronger than they knew.

Those hopes of freedom feel real now. In a hospital bed millennia away from when River grew up, she feels the first taste of freedom she has ever known.

She picks up the projector, studies it. It's simple enough really. It's just a matter of choosing whether to look. But her future self sent it to her, and her future self is a woman capable of inspiring goodness and sacrifice and oh so much love in another human being. She had never thought of herself that way before.

River presses the button on the projector and there in front of her is the image of a creature in a suit, sunken eyes and no mouth. The creature is so familiar and River is overcome with the sickening realization that she must have seen these creatures every day of her life. They are what lurks in the back of her mind, the nightmares she can't remember. She stares and stares, willing herself to remember, and then she presses the off button. The image disappears. Nothing. Just the faint nausea and the remnants of fear and horror. She remembers nothing.

She turns the image back on. Remember, remember, she whispers to herself. But when she turns the projector off her mind is as blank as after the first attempt. River tries this three more times before she decides that trying to remember must not be the purpose of the projection.

Of course. She looks at the projector with a new sense of wonder. This is how they programmed her. This is how she can unprogram herself.

She turns the image on. A practice run. "Walk to the window," she tells herself. The image remains, and she keeps staring. She isn't walking anywhere. Disappointment washes over River, because if this doesn't work, how will she ever remove years of conditioning from her mind?

She presses the off button. The next thing she knows, she's by the window. Horrified and elated and sick. So sick at the idea that they did this to her. Her whole life, how much of her is really her? If they can put thoughts in her brain, who is she really?

For a minute River stands there, grasping the window ledge, feeling like she's about to vomit. She wants to cry and scream. But if she learned anything from the Church, it was how to be strong. So she doesn't think about the past. Doesn't think about the things removed from her mind or the things forced inside.

River presses the on button again. "You are not a murderer," she says, her voice coming out weaker than she's ever heard it. She is a murderer. She killed a man today. A good man. This must work. She can't be this woman anymore. "You are not a murder River Song." River swallows hard against the emotions. She needs to be more rational about this. Commands. She should give herself commands. "You will not listen to anything the Silence told you. You will not hear those voices anymore. If you hear them, you will ignore them. You will not kill the Doctor ever again."

She presses the off button with a shaking hand. "You are not a murderer," she whispers to herself again, arms wrapping around herself. River sits back on the bed, feeling so very exhausted. She wonders if it worked. It seems too simple, and she has no idea how to test her success.

And then as if conjured by her thoughts, a blue box appears in her room. "Hello," the Doctor says cheerfully, popping out of the TARDIS with a vase full of glowing flowers – most definitely not from Earth, River thinks – in his arms. "I thought this might cheer the place up a bit," he muses as he sets the flowers down on the table next to River's bed.

"You shouldn't be here," River says, panic settling over her.

"Why not? You've already used the hologram yeah? Told yourself you aren't going to kill me."

"What if it didn't work? You should go. Now."

"I'm not dead yet," the Doctor points out, as though that is the only proof he needs. He sits down on the edge of River's bed.

"Don't give me time to change that."

The Doctor smiles knowingly at River, and she has a strong feeling that she is about to spend years being annoyed by that expression. "You don't want to kill me do you?" he asks.

"Of course not. But I'm not strong enough to stop myself."

"Of course you are," the Doctor replies happily. "You already have."

He's right, she realizes, and the thought steals her breath away. The instinct to reach for a weapon, to incapacitate the man in front of her, to take out the left heart and then the right in rapid succession, it's all gone. Her mind no longer hums with it, with the thoughts that feel only half hers. "How can I be sure?" River asks.

"I'm still not dead."

"I don't have a weapon."

The Doctor reaches forward to press a small vial into River's hand.

"From the Judas tree," she says with certainty. She knows every substance capable of ending a time lord's life. She stares down at her hand, the memory of using this very poison to the kill the Doctor pressing at her mind. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"And I am still alive," the Doctor says. River can hear the grin in his voice, and she looks up to meet his eyes.

River hears nothing, no voice in her head telling her to use to poison. It's quiet for the first time she can remember. She could practically cry at the new and overwhelming experience.

The Doctor is looking at her so fondly, like she is absolutely everything to him. "You need some time alone, yeah?" he asks. River looks at him, stunned, feeling oddly like he can read her mind. "You told me you would."

"I told you?"

"Future you." He smiles at River, so young and yet still so very much his River. "Take as much time as you need. And then call me," the Doctor tells her with a wink. He hands her a stack of psychic paper. "Until the next time River Song."

River watches the blue box disappear a moment later. She feels no desire to go after it and destroy its occupant. River Song smiles triumphantly.

When River returns to her apartment after turning in the last paper of her first semester at university she finds a note on her bedside table. Mount Everest. Beside it there is a vortex manipulator with coordinates already set.

There are some things that cannot simply be read in history books. Things that need to be seen with ones own eyes. It's why River has chosen to study archeology. Apparently older her still believes in the value of seeing first hand.

She straps the leather band to her wrist. Old and well worn. She ghosts her fingers over the device once before deciding that she simply needs to use it before she loses her nerve.

River's apartment vanishes and the next thing she sees is a room that had once been hers. Dark and moist with the faint smell of mold that had been a nearly constant companion during River's time as Melody Pond. Get out now, the walls warn her. She doesn't move.

River hears her own footsteps coming down the hallway, and she hides behind a wall. She thinks she can remember hiding in this very spot when she broke out of that space suit. But she never trusts the memories. They are only fragments really. The moments when the Silents had been far away, she assumes now.

River stays in the shadows and she watches as Dr. Renfrew follows Melody into her bedroom. For a while they play with dolls, and River wonders what exactly it is that her older self thought she should see here.

And then the Silents come. Five stand over Melody whispering, You will not move. You will not move. One leans down to whisper in Dr. Renfrew's ear. He injects something into the young girl's arm. Melody screams and cries, but she doesn't move.

River knows weapons. She could take out the five Silents surrounding young Melody in an instant. But River also knows herself well enough to know that her older self only sent her the vortex manipulator now because she trusted herself not to rewrite history.

So River watches as a child that she can hardly remember being screams in pain as Dr. Renfrew injects the contents of another needle – it looks so much like the untempered schism that River had been shown when she was Mels. Had they put that inside her? River wonders as Melody screams. And then she knows it had been something extracted from the schism, because River can feel time and space flowing through her own veins. She can feel it so acutely now, as if it is being called to by the parts of time and space being injected into Melody.

Even as River watches her younger self cry out in pain as her DNA changes rapidly, River feels grateful for the gift of time and space. She can't imagine living without this connection to the universe. That thought sickens her - feeling grateful for the things that were forced upon her.

She's seen enough. She uses the pre-programmed return coordinates, and finds that the vortex manipulator takes her to the TARDIS instead of her apartment. River leans against the console for support, her knees feeling weak and unsteady. She can feel the ship singing to her, a lullaby she thinks. It eases the neausea that remains as River remembers. She can't see the Silents. But the memory is otherwise clear. It's simply as though their shapes have been blacked out of the memory.

"River, are you ok?" the Doctor says worriedly, as he enters the room. He rushes to her side.

"I'm fine Doctor," River says, pushing the memories back in her mind. "Perhaps you could return this vortex manipulator to future me. Not sure where to find myself."

The Doctor's brow furrows in confusion. He hadn't known then. The trip, the memories, the knowledge of who she is, had been a gift from her future self only.

"You don't want it?" the Doctor asks.

"Already took that trip and came back."

"What trip?"

"To visit myself. It's been a day full of mes. Bit tired of myself really," River jokes.

"You crossed your own timeline?"

"I didn't let young me see this me of course. I maybe new to time travel, but I am part time lord. I understand how it works."

"So which you did you visit?" the Doctor asks. He stands next to her, and River finds that his presence calms her.

"I went to Graystark Hall. Never could really remember that time before. Now I do."

"Oh River," the Doctor says, his voice suddenly full of so much sorrow. And then River knows that of course he didn't give her the manipulator. This man who River still barely knows is so fiercely protective of her, so very much in love with her, that he would do anything to protect her from those memories.

She watches as his hands reach for her, an impulse from lifetimes spent with older versions of herself. But River isn't ready to be in his arms yet. She wants to give him that comfort, to make him not have to suffer by losing the woman who knows him, but she needs to be selfish a while longer. River's life has never truly been hers, she has come to understand. Now it can be. It will be. She needs to take this journey alone, needs to remember Melody Pond and Mels Zucker, needs to learn who River Song will be, before she lets herself be with him.

She takes his hand in hers and offers a comforting squeeze. "I needed to see it," she tells the Doctor. "I need to remember, and I don't want you ever to try to protect me from that. It's my life. Mine to remember now."

"You don't know this yet, but I will always respect to your wishes," the Doctor replies, and River sees nothing but truth in his eyes. "Even when it break my hearts, I will listen to you. You don't need to worry about not having a choice with me. You always have a choice River."

"Ok," River says with a smile. She will think about being that little girl in an orphanage later. For now she needs an adventure. "My wish for today is to visit Apalapucia."

"With me?" the Doctor says, practically giggling.

"With you and sexy here," she says, her hand fondly rubbing the TARDIS. "It seems rude for me to take her and leave you behind. I'm trying to break old habits you know, and stealing your wheels might lead me back down the wrong path."

"All right then. Apalapucia. But we will have to get the timing right. I went with your parents once. Entirely wrong time. Mustn't do that again."

"Oh don't worry sweetie, I'll drive this time."

Lying naked with his new wife beneath the open sky on Calderon Beta, the Doctor feels at peace. She's young this River, young and so full of hope and life and joy even on her first day at Stormcage. Her fingers are drawing designs on his chest, and all the Doctor can think of when he looks at River's hand is his bowtie binding them together as husband and wife through all of time and space. He's known River a very long time now, and he didn't think that he could be surprised by her anymore. And yet, after centuries she can still amaze him.

"Area 52," the Doctor whispers, and from his voice, River knows that he wants to talk about a far less happy subject than their nuptials. "You captured Kovarian. Amy killed her, but you-"

"Are you going to blame her for that?" River asks, cutting him off. "Because certainly you can understand her desire to have revenge on the woman who kidnapped her child."

"Of course I understand it. I want to kill Kovarian myself every time I see her. I want to make her suffer for what she did to you River. What I don't understand is how you resisted killing her yourself, how you let her live, how you could stand to be in the same room as her."

"I'm not like her Doctor," River replies simply, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him properly. "The Church tried to raise a psychopath. Do you know how many times they told Mels that she was one? That she was a time lord, and that meant that she couldn't feel empathy or compassion. That all I existed for was to kill, and that I would always do so without remorse. But I saved you in Berlin. You loved me and forgave me. I didn't know that anyone was capable of love like that, especially not for me. But then I felt it too. I felt it and I saved you Doctor. Because I loved you."

The Doctor's hand reaches forward out to cup his wife's cheek. "I know."

"I'm not what they told me I was. That's my revenge. They failed to create their psychopath. They may have made a weapon, but I answer to no one but myself."

"Oh believe me, I know that."

The Doctor kisses River with a tenderness that still surprises her. "You are such a good woman, River Song," he whispers against her lips. "So strong and so good." His hands stroke her cheeks, her ears, weave through her hair. He doesn't deserve the joy she brings him. Doesn't deserve River Song.

River brings a palm up to cup her husband's face. "A good woman deserves a good man," she whispers. "You my husband are a very good man."

He's been called a good man before. By his companions, women utterly infatuated with him, enthralled by the promise of all of time and space. But time and space are already River's, and nothing that he shows her is much of a revelation to River. Except his love. It is all she wants from him.

River tells him that he's good and he almost believes her. Because she is a good woman. For all his teasing about his bad girl who occasionally steals cars and frequently makes inappropriate remarks in mixed company, River is a very good woman. A good woman who has seen the very worst of him and who loves him anyway. She thinks he's a good man. It makes him almost believe.

She can never let it happen again. That suit. That woman. Those creatures. River had believed herself free of them. She had been so wrong. Her life still wasn't her own, and that is a thought that eats at her every day as she sits in Stormcage.

After two weeks in prison, she decides that it's time. She has to go in search of answers. She must learn about the Order of the Silence. She must ensure that they never can call themselves her owners ever again.

She's planning her trip. Pouring through books and jotting down coordinates and planning escapes when a thought hits her: There's no reason to go alone. She had promised herself that she would take this journey alone years ago, when she still needed to figure out who River Song was for herself. But now, River knows exactly who she is. And she knows the Doctor. Trusts him. Loves him. She's the woman who married him after all.

There's no reason not to take him along. He would be pleased to join her she knows; he pouts so much whenever she has an adventure without him. There's no reason to go alone, except, of course, that River is afraid. So very, very afraid. She's been alone her whole life, learned to bear any burden herself. Learning to share them is a bit more difficult.

But she is River Song, and River is brave and strong. And she can do this. She can show her husband Melody Pond and Mels Zucker. She wants him to know.

River is pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the TARDIS landing in her cell. She picks up her notebook and opens the doors.

"Hello wife," the Doctor calls out cheerfully.

"Hello husband," River replies as she sets her books down on the jumper seat.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asks immediately. River is still a bit unnerved by the fact that someone knows her so well.

"Sorry. I was just caught up in my thoughts when you arrived."

The Doctor walks over to his wife and taps gently on her temple. "And what is going on in that brilliant head of yours Doctor Song?"

"I have a favor to ask you," River says, her stomach aching with worry.

"Anything."

"I thought I knew about my past until Kovarian found me and put me back in that suit," the Doctor watches a shudder pass through River. He wonders how long she was under Lake Silencio waiting for him. "I didn't even know who she was when she came to Luna. I need to know. I can't live my life wondering if everyone I meet is part of the Church. I cannot let them control my life any longer."

"I'll tell you what I can, but I'm afraid that I don't know much about the Silence myself."

"That's all right. I wasn't expecting you to. I was actually hoping…" River looks down at her hands, her fingers moving anxiously. The Doctor has never seen her see so uncertain. "I was wondering if you would come with me to try to find out. I have the trips all planned, and I was thinking it might be nice to have my husband's company."

The Doctor's face lights up in a hopeful smile. River had trusted him much more quickly than he learned to trust her. She had given her regenerations for him so easily, had believed in his goodness so very quickly even after a lifetime of being taught to hate him. But this kind of trust is harder, the Doctor knows. "I would travel to the end of the universe and back with you River Song. Already have, actually. Great fun. You'll love it."

"Thank you Doctor."

"No River," he says, his voice serious as he takes her hand. "Thank you."

It takes the Doctor an hour to convince Amy and Rory to leave the Sisters of the Infinite Schism. When the Doctor finally gets his companions into the TARDIS, he immediately sends the ship into the vortex. He's afraid that if they spend time discussing a destination, Amy and Rory will run from the ship again and back to their daughter's side. And then he would be breaking the first promise that River ever asked of him: not one line.

"I need to see her," Amy demands.

"We can't go back," the Doctor tells her.

"Fine. Take me to another River. No, take me to Mels. I need to see what really happened to her."

"Amy," the Doctor says sadly. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not? We travel in time every day."

"But it's your timeline. You can't cross it."

"We can avoid seeing me. I'll tell you where to go, you just get us there."

"Oi. You're nearly as bossy as River." It's the wrong thing to say of course, because the sorrow on Amy's face practically shatters the Doctor. "Fine, fine. We'll go. But if I say we need to leave, we leave. And no matter what you see, you cannot intervene. Do you understand me?" he asks, seriously. Amy nods, and the Doctor turns to Rory, who solemnly nods as well. "Fine, tell me where we're going."

They arrive on the front lawn the house where Mels had lived with her foster parents: Reverend Ryan and his wife, Mary. Higher ups in the Order of the Silence, the Doctor knows, charged with training the Church's prized weapon.

"Funny seeing you lot here," River says, walking out of the shadow of a tall oak tree.

"What are you doing here?" Rory asks. Amy stares at her daughter in stunned silence as if she's an apparition.

"There are some trips you shouldn't take alone," River replies. She glances at the Doctor, giving him a thankful smile. He returns her smile with an equal measure of gratitude and love.

River turns her attention back to her parents asking. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asks.

"I need to see what happened to you," Amy says. And though River knows that this will break Amy's heart, she can't deny her mother the chance that seeing the past will offer her the same sense of closure that it had given River.

"Ok," River says, leading the way up the walkway to the house. The Doctor walks up beside her, their hands weaving together the moment he is next to her.

River has the back door lock picked in under 10 seconds, and she leads her parents and husband to the darkened kitchen where they can watch Mels and her foster mother arguing in the living room.

"Chill out," Mels tells Mary. "It was just a little joyride. No big deal."

"It is a big deal when the police call me."

"Whatever," Mels replies, with a roll of her eyes, all confidence and easy defiance. But her demeanor changes in a second as Reverend Ryan walks into the room.

"You can leave us Mary," he tells his wife. The Reverend waits until Mary leaves before turning on Mels. "You stupid, insolent girl."

"Oh calm down, Rev. I just borrowed the bus. I was planning to return it."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Reverend Ryan asks Mels. "I know that you weren't taking a joyride in the botanical gardens. You were trying to escape. Won't you ever learn? You can never escape the Church. You belong to us Melody Pond."

"I belong to no one."

Amy nearly screams as the Reverand punches Mels so hard that she stumbles back into the wall. Rory tightens his arm around Amy's shoulder to keep her from running into the living room. Mels is quick and strong, and an instant later she has the Reverend pinned on the ground, her fists connecting with his face over and over until blood is pouring from his nose.

Amy wants to believe that this had been the worst of it. That Mels had always fought back and won, that she had been safe even if she was a prisoner. But then the Silents enter the room, their fingers glowing with energy, and Amy sees an expression on her best friend's - no her daughter's - face that she has never seen before. Fear.

Mels is screaming as the Silents shock her for what feels like ages. Amy finally breaks free from Rory's grasp and begins running towards Mels. But then there are arms around her, and River is pulling Amy back with her time lord strength. Once they are safely out of the Silents' line of sight again, River's embrace changes, and she is no longer restraining Amy, but hugging her, River's hands stroking Amy's back.

Behind Amy her daughter is screaming. But River won't let go, and Amy can't do anything to stop the awful noise.

"We should leave," River whispers. Amy shakes her head. Finally Mels' screams stop, and Amy spins on her heels just in time to see the Reverend kick Mels hard in the ribs. A whimper echoes in the silence. River stiffens almost imperceptibly next to Amy.

"It's time to go," River whispers a moment later as her younger self slowly stands.

"But Mels…"

"I'm fine. Look at me Amy," River says, pulling her mother's chin towards hers. "You know me. You know that I'm safe now."

"But-"

"No. I don't regret a second of anything that happened to me because it led me to where I am now."

"They tortured you. You grew up all alone, being hurt like that."

"I wasn't alone," River says with a soft smile. "You know who is about to ring the doorbell."

"We went to dinner and I talked your ear off about Rory, and I didn't even notice that you were hurt. In 20 years of friendship, I never asked you if you were safe or happy."

"You were perfect. I needed someone to let me forget for a while, and you made me feel like a normal teenager instead of a weapon. We can talk about this more, I promise, but we need to go now. You'll be here soon."

"Ok," Amy agrees. River grabs her hand and pulls her out of the house and through the TARDIS doors with Rory and the Doctor trailing behind.

Once they're inside, Amy throws her arms around River again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry River."

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped them," River says emphatically. "Either of you," she adds, reaching out for Rory's hand and fixing him with a determined expression.

Rory says nothing, but all he can think is how well his daughter seems to know him. She understands how desperately he wants to protect his family, understands that his silence does not mean that he's ok. River squeezes Rory's hand and smiles at him reassuringly as she holds a crying Amy to her shoulder. River feels properly like family to Rory for the first time.

"Shall we have a cup of tea?" River asks when Amy calms herself and begins wiping at her eyes.

"Sounds like a good idea," Rory agrees, taking his wife's hand and beginning to walk towards the kitchen.

River turns around to follow them and spots the Doctor leaning against the console. His cheeks are wet, and his eyes are red. "I'll let you lot have some Pond family time. Been meaning to do some repair work on the TARDIS."

"I'll join you in a minute," River calls to her parents.

River's arms wind loosely around the Doctor's waist, and she looks up into tear filled eyes and declares so strongly that the Doctor almost believes it, "It wasn't your fault either you brilliant, wonderful, beautiful idiot."

"River," the Doctor whispers around the lump in his throat.

"I wouldn't change a minute of my past. I'm happy with my life Doctor, and I wouldn't give that up for anything. Do you hear me?"

The Doctor nods, but his eyes are still so full of regret. "Sweetie," River says sternly. "You make me happy. It's as simple as that really. You make me so happy that what happened to me when I was Mels and Melody simply doesn't matter."

"River," the Doctor sighs, pulling her closer to him. "It matters. It will always matter."

"Not as much as you matter to me." River wipes a few tears from her husband's cheeks. He rests his hands over hers, squeezing tightly with a grateful little smile. River smiles back at him, her eyes alight with her feelings for him. The depth of her love makes his eyes well up again.

"Will you be all right for a bit?" River asks a moment later "I should see to my parents."

"Of course," the Doctor replies, pulling River to him for a kiss before lettering her leave. He pulls her body tightly to his, and he can feel love and calm pressing in on him, surrounding him. It takes the Doctor a moment to realize that the sensation is at the edges of his mind, asking gently for entry. The Doctor lowers his barriers and lets his wife enter his mind. She's there, so full of love and peace that he has no choice but to calm and let the sadness and the guilty begin to slip away. River's voice echoes in his head. She tells him that they will all make it through this. The Doctor will be just fine and her parents will be just fine. And River, she is already so much more than fine. She needs nothing more than what she has now.

The Doctor is in bed scribbling in a notebook when River finally finishes talking to her parents. "Hello dear," he says, taking in the exhaustion on her face.

River pulls back the TARDIS blue blanket and climbs into bed without even bothering to put on pajamas. The Doctor stretches out his arm, and River lays her head on his shoulder. She is so grateful that they are both far along in their timelines, that tonight she can share a bed with her husband and feel his arms wrap around her. Tonight there doesn't need to be spoilers or careful flirting with his younger self. Tonight they are simply husband and wife.

"Are you ok?" the Doctor asks, "No, rubbish question, of course you aren't."

"I'm fine Doctor."

"River please. You were strong for everyone today, just like you always are. And I let you take care of me, because I'm a selfish old man, and I need you. Please let me take care of you too."

"I don't want to talk anymore," River tells him. "I've just spent hours talking to Amy and Rory. I'm too tired to do it anymore."

"Go to sleep my love," the Doctor tells River, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I don't think that I'll be sleeping tonight," River replies, still a bit embarrassed that she fears the nightmares enough to refuse to sleep.

The Doctor's brings a hand to River's cheek, stroking it soothingly. River looks at him with a grateful smile. He knows her, knows how to comfort her through dreams and memories, how to be with her in the moments when she can't bring herself to find words. The Doctor simply stares at River, and she is certain that she is more loved than anyone else in the universe. River opens her mind, knowing that he would never push forward without her consent.

River's breath hitches as he enters her mind – an unsettling feeling to her still, a fleeting memory of others being inside her head that she can never fully access. But then the Doctor's inside, wrapped around her, and it's peaceful and safe. And he tells her that she is strong and brave and good. And that he will love her through all of space and time.

River knows she can sleep then, because the Doctor will watch over her, he will stay in her mind with her, and he will chase away the memories that haunt her, will block them with feelings of peace and contentment. That he does this for her moves River more than she can express. That she lets him makes her so very proud of herself.

The Doctor sees her memories, feels the sharp pain of the Silents' electrocution and the aching loneliness of a childhood without parents. He tells her that she is safe. He tells her that she is loved. He tells her that she is River Song. She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.