The Man Who Waited

WARNING!  SPOILERS FOR "ANGELS TAKE MANHATTAN"

I never stopped waiting for them.  Somehow I knew, though.  I knew when they didn't come back that…that they wouldn't.  

I remember the day I realized I would never see them again very clearly.  It had been the fourth or fifth time I'd gone around, hoping to catch them when they got back this time.  I noticed the figure pacing in front of the door anxiously almost immediately.

"Hello," I said carefully.

She looked up at me.  It was a girl—well to me.  She had to be in her early to mid thirties, with curly, blond hair and a very confident air about her, and she seemed terribly familiar, although to this day I cannot place why.  Despite her assurance, she seemed rather distraught, but she hid it well, calming down almost as soon as she saw me and shooting me the biggest smile.

"Hello," she returned, but said nothing more.  I remember feeling surprised.  I expected her to start ranting about something having to do with the fact that my son and daughter-in-law were missing.

"Are you looking for Rory and Amy?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she replied.  "How do you know them?"

I reached forward to shake her hand out of politeness.  I remember she had a very firm grip.  "I'm Rory's father, Brian."

It was funny, but her smile suddenly seemed even more genuine.  "Oh? Well it is a pleasure to meet you.  My name is River.  River Song."

"A pleasure, Ms. Song."

"River, please," she said.  Then, after shooting me another smile, she turned back to the house.  "So, where are they?"

I sighed.  "If they're not here, they're traveling…with a friend."  I'd promised Amy, Rory and the Doctor that I would never tell.  Besides, who would believe me anyway?

Still, she seemed to understand.  "Ah, I see.  I thought they might."

"Oh?" I asked, surprised.  They rarely spoke of the Doctor and their travels through time with anyone else, even casually.  I always assumed it was because they didn't want to let anything slip.   "They told you about their travels?"

The smile she gave me that time spoke of an untold secret.  I'd often seen it on Amy when she spoke of the Doctor.  I remember thinking that it was strange to see so many different 'smiles' from any given person in such a short amount of time.  

"Not specifically, no," she replied after a pause.  "They just mentioned that they travel."

Maybe it was a touch of my annoyance and fear that made me speak next, or perhaps it was a bit of jealousy.  I'm not completely sure.  "I'm sure they just vanish without telling you about it either, then."

She chuckled.  "Something like that."

I sighed then.  "Well, I can give them a message for you when they get back.  Would you mind?"

"Oh, would you?  Thank you!  Just tell them that I've been pardoned, and that I will be graduating with my Doctorate in Archeology next month.  It's been approved and I was hoping they could come."

"Well, you have my congratulations then," I said, trying to sound as genuine as I could.  I'd never met the woman before, but I already had a budding respect for her if she could accomplish something like that, and I tried not to let my thoughts about Rory and Amy's continued absence color the mood.  I'm not sure if I succeeded, but she humored me anyway.  "And I'm sure you have theirs as well."

"Yes," she agreed.  "Well, when you see them, please give them the message.  They'll know how to get ahold of me."

"Very well Ms…no that would be Doctor Song, wouldn't it?"

She smiled that charming smile again and reached out to shake my hand.  "It was a pleasure meeting you.  I see now where Rory gets a lot of his mannerisms from."

I couldn't help the swell of pride at her words.  "He takes after his mother more," I commented, not really meaning it.  I liked the idea of Rory taking after me, even if he did look more like my late wife.

"Perhaps," she returned non-committally.  Then she tucked her hands into her pockets and turned to walk down the stairs, leaving me alone on the porch.  

Watching her leave, I couldn't help the pang of loneliness I felt at that time, standing in front of the empty house; like I'd been left behind.  Now that I think about it, I guess I really had been, and not for the first time.  Why hadn't they told me?

"Funny," I said aloud, although I meant it more for myself.  Dr. Song must have heard.

"What?"

I realized she'd heard me and figured I should probably finish the sentence.  "They haven't done this to me in a while."

"Done what?"

I frowned.  "Leave without telling me.  Usually if they leave like that, they mean to come back quickly."

When she didn't answer I turned to look at her.  She was just staring at me with a blank expression on her face, but her eyes held a sort of nameless fear.  I did not like it one bit.

She nodded, forced yet another smile, and walked away.  

I don't know why, but that expression conveyed more to me than any of her words or smiles could have.  She knew, somehow.  She knew about Rory and Amy and the Doctor.  I don't know how or why, but she did.  

She also knew something was wrong.  

The Doctor promised me, though.  He'd promised he would keep them safe…but what if he couldn't keep that promise?  The thought had plagued my nightmares ever since I'd learned of him.

As I watched Doctor River Song walk away, I felt like I was watching the last of my family walk away too…like she'd taken Rory and Amy with her.

Sometimes I curse that man.  I watched my son age prematurely right next to his beautiful wife practically before my eyes.  But my resentment never really lasts.  Every time I saw him looking months or years older than he really should have been, he seemed younger too; happier; more alive.

I won't say I've given up.  I'll never stop waiting for them.  But I think I know, down in my heart, that they won't return…and it hurts.

I keep waiting for the Doctor to show up and confirm or disconfirm my suspicions…but he never has.  I don't know if he ever will.  I wonder if he feels he can't face me.  But I'd forgive him, one way or another, if he would just show up and tell me.  

Because not knowing is the worst thing any parent could know.  

What a cruel man.