Number Five: Words

11/River

He remembered her in words, in both the words that he said, and the ones that he didn't dare to say.

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"Hello Sweetie."

The very first time that he hears her say those two words, he is absolutely furious.

Who is this woman, and how dare she do this? She is putting them all in danger, and all she can do is flirt?

Then, time goes on. Soon, he begins to look forward to hearing those words. He knows that those words mean that he will be soon be running head-first into danger - into her.

Of course, he can't let her have the upper hand for long, at least not for too long. So of course, he comes with a silly little phrase of his own:

"Hi honey, I'm home."

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"Hell. In high heels."

Those were the only words that he could think of to describe her at the time, but as time went on, he realized just how appropriate they were.

She was hell in high heels, all voluptuous curls and hallucinogenic lipstick and guns and he shouldn't like that - so of course he does.

But at the same time, she was his guardian angel, all soft smiles and flirty innuendos and absolute faith in him.

And of course, there was that hair - but he could go on for days about that.

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When he had taken Clara to Caliburn House in 1979, where they had met Professor Palmer and his assistant Emma, his words had been:

"Not everything ends. Not love. Not always."

And even as Clara smiled at him, silently agreeing, all he could think was:

"Just like us, eh, River?"

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"She was a friend."

That's what he always referred to her as. His friend, River. Never as his wife, or his lover, or as his bespoke psychopath - at least not out in public.

River always knew why. He had never thought he would have to explain his reasoning to anyone, at least not until his Amelia Pond asked.

"Doctor, why do you always call River your friend? You've been married, for - what? Two, three hundred years now? But you always call her your friend. Why is that?"

He had just smiled at his best friend.

"Oh, Pond." he had said. "First, because I don't really want people to know that I'm married. There are so many people in the universe that would try to hurt her to get to me, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened."

"And the other reason?" Amy had asked, her arms crossed.

"It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages." he said, smiling at her. "Friedrich Nietzsche."

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"You are always here to me, and I always listen, and I can always see you."

He had known that it would hurt, the second that Clara mentioned the woman with "the space hair and the funny name."

But he hadn't ever even imagined that it would hurt this much.

He could hear her, he could see her - when couldn't he? But he had to act like he couldn't. He had to let her think that he couldn't hear her talking to Clara, hear the pain in her voice when she talked of her death.

Then he spoke to her, and he kissed her, and he told her the truth. And then she faded for the last time.

And his hearts broke all over again.

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"I love you."

Those three words were the forbidden words. The words that could never be said by either one of them.

Because it would only hurt too much, they had decided - to say those words, and then to see each other the next time and have it be a younger version that they were facing.

So they didn't say them. Ever.

Instead, they expressed the feelings behind those forbidden words in everything they did. Every Hello, Sweetie and Hi, honey, I'm home. In every Spoilers and oh, I hate you! Those three little words were felt in every touch, every caress, every night.

In the way that she flirted and he flailed.

When she shot his hats, but then bought him an entire hat shop for their anniversary.

When he hid her guns, but then got her an entire arsenal tailored to her specifically for her wedding present.

They were the words that were never said - because they didn't have to be.

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He remembered her in words, both in the words that he said, and the ones that he never dared to say:

"Hello, Sweetie."

"Hell. In high heels."

"Not everything ends. Not love. Not always."

"She was a friend."

"You are always here to me, and I always listen, and I can always see you."

"I love you."