[ But it can't, it really can't be, can it. The Doctor had mourned her. River'd become a photo in a frame on his desk. A journal kept close to the hearts. A mantra, as he resolved to meet his death. The Doctor carriers her with her everywhere, but she wasn't ever coming back. Just because it looks and speaks and acts exactly like her right now, and is giving her that look...
Maybe the plant's a very dedicated method actor.
But, despite herself, a growing and terrible sort of hopefulness starts to crowd out everything else. ]
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Maybe the plant's a very dedicated method actor.
But, despite herself, a growing and terrible sort of hopefulness starts to crowd out everything else. ]