River is not watching Charles; instead her eyes are fixed upward, staring at the pattern of stars in the sky.
It shifts. She blinks, and it shifts further. Somewhere there are treess blossoming, blooming in those stars as they rotate in strange patterns and just as suddenly, River knows that this is about to go terribly wrong. The police box represents the truth of the matter, huge and terrifying, only the edges of which River can properly articulate and comprehend. The barrier is what remains of the one time she hid a great truth from herself.
The one other time.
So as Charles strengthens this separation of self from permanently damaging truth, the barrier itself summons its own memory. In an instant the landscape changes to the great, hollowing emptiness that was Ariel and in that instance Charles can hear what River heard on that planet - the deafening silence of so many people dying, without suffering, without reason, merely choosing to cease to be.
They felt nothing, and so they died.
It's an oasis of terrifying calm in a sea of horror, because the police box strikes the barrier again and shatters into a million billion pieces that grow limbs and torsos and begin screaming at Charles. The barrier holds the Reavers from reaching them but River can't hold him and herself and them in the same place but never interacting, so she grabs his hands and push/pulls until he is back in his own body and she has managed to vomit up pie and tea without missing the sink.
Several moments and dry heaves pass before River turns on the faucet and cups her hands in water, rinsing her mouth and splashing cool liquid on her face before she remembers that Charles is here, not just in her mind but present in a physical sense, and so she glances at him over her shoulder.
no subject
It shifts. She blinks, and it shifts further. Somewhere there are treess blossoming, blooming in those stars as they rotate in strange patterns and just as suddenly, River knows that this is about to go terribly wrong. The police box represents the truth of the matter, huge and terrifying, only the edges of which River can properly articulate and comprehend. The barrier is what remains of the one time she hid a great truth from herself.
The one other time.
So as Charles strengthens this separation of self from permanently damaging truth, the barrier itself summons its own memory. In an instant the landscape changes to the great, hollowing emptiness that was Ariel and in that instance Charles can hear what River heard on that planet - the deafening silence of so many people dying, without suffering, without reason, merely choosing to cease to be.
They felt nothing, and so they died.
It's an oasis of terrifying calm in a sea of horror, because the police box strikes the barrier again and shatters into a million billion pieces that grow limbs and torsos and begin screaming at Charles. The barrier holds the Reavers from reaching them but River can't hold him and herself and them in the same place but never interacting, so she grabs his hands and push/pulls until he is back in his own body and she has managed to vomit up pie and tea without missing the sink.
Several moments and dry heaves pass before River turns on the faucet and cups her hands in water, rinsing her mouth and splashing cool liquid on her face before she remembers that Charles is here, not just in her mind but present in a physical sense, and so she glances at him over her shoulder.
"Thank you."