4A/N: Alrighty, before I begin, just a few things that I need to say. (1) This story goes hand-in-hand with "Fix You" by Coldplay (don't ask why, it just does) so please listen to it while you read.
(2) This fanfic is actually a companion piece to another story of mine, Converse and Bowties. After you read, please check that out as well as my other DW fics - especially my on-going series, Penance (sorry for my shameless plugging).
(3) Just want to thank you before hand for reading. It means a lot to me, really, to think that people actually take the time to read my stuff like if I was an actual author. Thanks. :D
Vworp on!
~Ms. Unusual-in-Groovy-Ways
P.S. This regeneration isn't faithful to the show (Whovian epic fail), but I tried my best.
leatherjackets and trenchcoats.
a short story by
ms. unusual-in-groovy-ways
She looked into the Vortex.
She created herself.
She took the words...
...she scattered them in time and space.
A message to lead herself here.
With a kiss, the Bad Wolf is tamed, tranfered to the man whom the Bad Wolf fears. To the man who can see the turn of the universe, name all of the stars. Who is ancient and forever...
...and wonderful.
Rose wakes up on the TARDIS. She's confused, rubbing her head as if that'll give her some answers. She's dazed, remembering only when the TARDIS refused to take her to her Doctor. Now she is here...and the Doctor isn't helping much. The Daleks were defeated! Yay! But we forgot Jack and we won't remember him 'til, like, two seasons later! Bigger yay!
But he is acting weird. A good weird though. He's smiling. Rose has never seen him so...happy. He practically dances around the console, babbling on about where-to-next and Barcelona.
Rose doesn't mind. She loves her Doctor, she knows she does. He is the first person to see her not as some girl from London with no future, but as a girl who's seen the future and can accomplish anything, stumping him and his Time Lord brain. She loves him: when he's happy, when he's sad, when he has the toughest decisions to make. She loves his floppy ears and his toothy grin when he says "Fantastic!"
But what his words...they're starting to scare her.
He jerks in pain and looks down to hand. Rose runs to him, but is ordered to keep away. He's...regenerating? What about his face. A new one? No! She loved that daft, ol' face.
Rose tries to keep calm, but how can she? One second she's comtemplating how much she adores him and now has to accept the fact that her Doctor's leaving her - the man she would travel with forever.
But why doesn't he look scared? He holds his chest and winces violently, but looks fine - better than she has ever seen him.
"Rose," he says slowly, "before I go -"
"Don't say that." She blinks and chews her lip, fighting back her tears. Her voice feels heavy, her chest aching like death. He couldn't leave...
"Rose." He looks at her, calmly, but deep down he is frightened. He loves her and he knows that like he knows the stars. If it were up to him, he wouldn't regenerate, but every cell in his body is dying. He couldn't help but have his face change and have some new man wisk her away.
"Before I go, I want to tell you, you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And you know what?" He looks at her one last, breathing in her lovely image, piercing her with his icy eyes. "So was I."
He closes his eyes for a second. Not even that. But, suddenly, he's weightless. Whatever pain he feared he would have to experience just washes away briskfully, like a stream flowing towards its pond. He knows nothing right now, but ease. The first real sense of peace he's had in a long, long time.
The feel of tranquility and harmony is cut short. With a snap, the Doctor is thrown back into the TARDIS.
He whisks around hysterically. It looks the same, his TARDIS, but something's different. He cannot put a finger on it, but his home - his heart - isn't the same. The walls are its same bronze and metals, the console still has its motley array of levers and buttons and twisty things and whirly, spinny contraptions. The TARDIS still beat the same, like a steady heartbeat. But the feeling of life, of joy, is gone. It's too quiet...
It hits him.
Rose.
He runs to the doors. They're locked. He runs to the hallway. It leads him right back to the TARDIS mainframe.
"Rose? Rose! Rose!" He yells with passion and tears thickening his voice. He screams out uselessly, but her name keeps him calm. Like a sercurity blanket, he needs it - her name - so much more than he's willing to admit.
"Calm down, man. You'll wake up this half of the galaxy."
The Doctor turns around, his eyes wondering rapidly for that sound. He searches for the origin of that voice until he finds a man. On his TARDIS? Instead of anger or pure confusion, simply he looks at the man with intrigued interest.
He's fairly younger than him, about four or five years younger. And just a tad bit shorter, but his confidence and sly smirk make up for that. He wears a brown pinstriped suit with a pair of ratty white Converse that look like they've seen better days and feet. The Doctor eyes him curiously at he stops at his playful eyes and gravity-defying hair.
"Who are you?" he finally breathes.
"Exactly."
The Doctor, if anyone else had said that, would have had a field day. However, his eyebrows shoot up in realization and shock.
It's him.
The next Doctor.
"I'm regeneratin' right now, am I?" the Doctor asks shyly.
The man nods. "Your subconscious - it works faster than the time it takes to change, so it's preparing you."
"For what?"
"Death."
The Doctor winces, taken aback by such a comment. He sucks in his breath and sighs shakily. He motions the new man to follow him as he sits down at those squeaky ol' TARDIS chairs. The both sit with a sigh, accompanied by a groan from the seat. Neither say anything. They sit there, backs arched, elbows on knees, hand clasped together in tension.
When they see this, they have a laugh.
"You know," the Doctor begins, "for the longer time, all I wanted was to go. As soon as I regenerated, I wanted nothing more than too leave. To die, truthfully. The one before me, he had it worse than me. Everything went south for him to fast for him to take in. First, Grace dies. Right there, in front of him. Then not even two seconds later, Gallifrey needs him. Sent him away to wander all of space and time alone and now they want him. He couldn't even give his girl a proper burial." The Doctor chokes a bit at these words, but he treks on, needing to let this out. "He fought valiantly in the Time War, but for what? He still had to - had to burn his people. Everything, thinking they took away everything anyway that it didn't matter. I came that night, you know? He had watched his planet surcumb to the inferno and then died of a broken heart. I arrived just in time to see the ashes of my people - and the Daleks - just fly past me. My childhood, my home, my family...just ashes in the wind."
The new Doctor watches him with sad, puppy dog eyes, but it is a genuine pain that plagues his soul. Despite the fact that all the Doctors are the same man, they have little other than that to bind them. They often forget the others' pain - their hopes, their ideals, etc. - and pave their own new path. But how can he just abandon such thoughts? He always lets a part of him die. What type of person allows such treachery?
He's only a different face, not a different man.
"You sound like you hate to go now." the young one says, hiding his real dilema.
"In a way, yes; in the other, no. I've found something worth living for, you know? Rose - she saved me. She took this old dog and taught him not only new tricks, but she taught me to love again." He chuckles and adds, "It's cheesy, I know. But for someone so young, so innocent, she's just amazing. Such zeal. Such joy. Such adventure! I hate to go only when it's gotten good, but I'm not mad or disappointed."
The young man looks at his predisesor in confusion. "How so? If you're happy, why would you give that up?"
The Doctor looks at his successor with wise eyes. "Because of you."
"What?" The young one just gives him a flabergasted look.
The Doctor can't help but laugh a little. "When you love a person, it is never because of what they do to you. It's because of what they make you."
The other man shakes his (drop-dead gorgeous) head (of hair). "Not following."
"She made you. Rose took this war-torn, bombarded shell of a man and made him young again. You're going to be great. You're going to run with her. You're going to laugh with her. You'll love her more and appreciate her more than I could have ever done in a million lifetimes."
The new Doctor, who has been strangely quiet this entire time, looks up and smiles. "You think so?"
"I know so. And you know why, what we've done in past will always haunt us. The blood on our hands can never be washed away. But where he can never forget, we can accept. And love will get us there. Love's favorite name is 'Rose.'"
The Ninth Doctor stands and stretches with a groan. He looks down at his next self and smiles that cheeky, toothy grin. Then, with a spring in his step and a smile in his heart, he walks away into the TARDIS hallway - awaiting to be greeted by his peers. However, not before saying happily:
"Well, what you are waiting, idiot? Put on your big boy pants and get on being fantastic."
That golden-orange light stops shooting out of the Doctor, to Rose's relief. That light frightened her. Its metallic yellow tendrils entangled her Doctor and wraped itself around him, oh so slowly changing him into a different man - a man who may not love her. As the light stops, she grips the TARDIS support beam tightly, bracing herself for her fate.
The Tenth Doctor gasps as he awakes. He blinks dizzily before saying:
"Hello. Okay. Mmm...New teeth." He makes a face. "That's weird. Oh, where were we?" He looks at Rose, then to console, and back at her. Then says with a blazing grin:
"Oh right. Barcelona."
the end.
in memory of the Doctor we should never forget