Chapter Text
Ten years have passed since River escaped from the clutches of the Silence. Ten years since she abandoned Melody, leaving her to deal with the Devils on her own. Now, River was travelling the world, never staying in one place. She left Jack after the first few years, setting off on her own. It was difficult at first, but she got the hang of it. Her thoughts of Mels never stopped, keeping her awake half the night. She was barely able to sleep a wink, knowing somewhere, sometime, her sister is still going through the torment she knew she was. She tried to drown out her thoughts with alcohol, hoping that would do the trick. It was certainly better than nothing, but River missed the excitement of missions. She missed the thrill of nearly getting arrested. But what she missed most of all was the exhilaration of holding a gun. Once she got rid of her fear of killing people, she never felt anything more euphoric than having the power over someone’s life, watching them beg for mercy until every ounce of life is drained from their body. Now, she had a choice on whether to kill people or not, so you know what she did?
River Song became an assassin, a murderer, a thief, if you will, getting paid to kill and steal. She mostly stole for private groups, never stealing or killing anyone or anything that would be noticeable if gone missing. River strategically only made minor friends, occasionally finding ones she could trust, the most notable being Madame Vastra and her long friend Jenny. Vasta, of course, was only her alias. She never disclosed her real name, along with their bomb-supplying friend Strax. They were an odd group, the three of them. They became known as the Paternoster Gang after their raids on Paternoster Row. The trio killed every living thing in sight, stealing whatever remained. River felt a sort of elation that she could have at least one person she could talk to, one person she could confide in. She took that feeling and ran with it, knowing full well that she was the only person who could know.
River was spending a week in Italy. While she was in Venice, visiting some old business partners, she decided to do some travelling. She was on her way to the nearest café, hoping to get something to eat when she walked right into someone. The person in question fell back on their butt, their hat falling to the ground. River picked up the hat and brushed it off lightly, extending her hand towards the man. Once got up, he grabbed the hat back from her and wore it, redness creeping up his cheeks. The man briefly flashed her a smile before walking away. River was slightly confused by what had just happened, but her main concern was the man’s clothes. He was wearing a tweed jacket, a bow tie, and suspenders. Suspenders. He was dressed like a senior in the body of a twelve-year-old, except he was lanky and had gangly limbs. It was as if he was confused as to which age group he belonged to. The hat he was wearing was a stetson for god’s sake — a stetson! River tried to shrug this strange interaction off, but something felt very… off. He had an unsettling feeling surrounding him. Quite the mystery to solve, but she went along, not paying any more attention to the peculiar man.
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After her stay in Italy was over, River returned to Vastra’s home. She needed a place to stay before she booked her flight to Germany. She had mentioned that her friend out in Berlin, Carter, needed a certain set of micro-explosives. River, never the one to miss a business opportunity, gladly accepted. She received them from her best business partner: Dorian Maldovar. He was an excellent weapons dealer, with a specific prowess when it came to explosives.
“Vastra, honey?” Jenny called from the other room. Honey? River thought but shrugged it off. She concluded that they probably took the hint and started dating.
Vastra stuck her head out the door, “Yes?”
“River says she needs to leave,” Jenny explained, “she needs some money for the plane ticket.”
She nodded in response, fishing two one hundred dollar bills from her purse and handing it to River. Vastra gave her a questioning look, an unspoken inquiry on River’s status. She could trust Vastra, but not enough to open up. Back to hiding the damage, this one. She was about to brush past her but was stopped when Vastra grabbed her wrist. She sighed before begrudgingly turning to face her. River put up a schooled expression, trying her best to stay as emotionless as possible. Vastra scanned her face, looking for something, anything , that could tell her what River was thinking. She locked eyes with her, unwavering. Nothing was read — perfect on River’s part. Vastra let out a sigh before letting go of her wrist. It stung just a bit, causing River to rub them softly. Vastra looks at her weirdly, surely she didn’t grab her too roughly, right? River pushes past her and leaves the home, slamming the door behind her. Walking to her car, she thinks about the cause of suspicion, chastising herself for letting even the smallest bit of emotion slip through. She quickly calms herself down before driving to the nearest airport and booking a flight to Berlin.
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River was restless. She was tired, drunk beyond belief, and restless. She had recently gotten off the plane, and was now laying on her bed in the motel she booked. The place wasn’t somewhere nice. There was a large patch on the ceiling, seemingly mould. There were many different “No Smoking” signs, but the place reeked of beer and tobacco. This is what you get for staying at a 2.1-star motel, and the only 2 reviews being from what looks like bots. But River persists, just like she always does. She pushes through with it because she knows she can’t use much of her money. As soon as she got off the plane, she immediately went to the nearest ATM. Once she had withdrawn five hundred dollars, she headed to the pub she knew had to be close. This was Berlin for goodness sake — you don’t have to walk more than two minutes before you reach a new bar. So, she drank until she nearly blacked out, taking a taxi home. Now, she couldn’t sleep on the creaky bed, thinking more about the flight than anything else. There was that man again, the one with the horrid dress sense. Except this time, he was with two friends. There was a woman with fiery red hair and a man with the most crooked nose she had ever seen. River hadn’t seen the man very well when they bumped into each other, but now she can properly see his face. And - and he looks familiar. Eerily familiar. It wasn’t as if they had met before, but she remembers him in the back of her mind, just swimming with her other dead memories. She was so intent on figuring out where she had seen him (maybe he’s famous?) that she doesn’t notice that she was staring. They make eye contact for only a millisecond before she snaps her head back.
She tries to think of anything but that weird man and his friends, but any of the other thoughts aren’t so pleasant. Her mind instantly strays to Melody, causing her mood to instantly decline. How is this helping? Drinking? Selling? Murdering? Who is this helping anybody besides herself? In the small part she tries to shove down, the only question ringing in her head is why haven’t you saved her yet? Gods know she loves her sister and would do anything to bring her back — so why hasn’t she? She tries to breathe but her next thought startles beyond comprehension.
What if she’s dead?
No.
NO.
She will save her sister, she will be alive, and the Silence will pay. River is so used to hiding the damage, she doesn’t notice the single tear that rolls down her face. Taking a deep breath, she tries to go to sleep. Tomorrow, she’s going to commit one of the largest crimes.
River Song is going to murder the queen.