The Doctor could only ever imagine how painful it must have been for River, all those years to have looked at him and seen no recognition in his eyes. All that time that she knew him so well and he barely knew her at all.
But he knows it now, knows it in the way her eyes flick over his features, it's the way you look at someone for the first time. He had no idea how much it would hurt. Oh does it hurt.
His frown etches deep into his brow once more as she repeats the name, his own eyes flicking over her form and lingering for just a moment (well he can hardly help it).
"But that's not possible," he mumbles, mostly to himself. Melody Malone is a story, a set of adventures made up. She can't possibly be here.
But then here she is.
"You're the detective?" he asks. "Melody Malone?" because surely she'll make sense of this, laugh and tell him he's being silly like she always used to? He hopes, but something tells him that's not about to happen.
no subject
But he knows it now, knows it in the way her eyes flick over his features, it's the way you look at someone for the first time. He had no idea how much it would hurt. Oh does it hurt.
His frown etches deep into his brow once more as she repeats the name, his own eyes flicking over her form and lingering for just a moment (well he can hardly help it).
"But that's not possible," he mumbles, mostly to himself. Melody Malone is a story, a set of adventures made up. She can't possibly be here.
But then here she is.
"You're the detective?" he asks. "Melody Malone?" because surely she'll make sense of this, laugh and tell him he's being silly like she always used to? He hopes, but something tells him that's not about to happen.