Doctor Who fic: Ghosts (1/1)

[locker_monster]

Title: Ghosts (1/1)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 695
Characters: Eleven
Timeline: The end of "The Time of the Doctor" I suppose; no spoilers. Spoilers for the end of "The Day of the Doctor".
Summary: As he starts to regenerate, the Doctor reflects on his life.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to the BBC. Dialogue snippets belong to their respective writers.
A/N: Written as a good-bye to Eleven and I was also inspired by this moment from "An Adventure in Time and Space". I can't claim to know how Eleven's regeneration will go, so I guess this is all in his head as the actual regeneration happens. Also written for who_at_50's 50th Anniversary Fanwork-a-thon-a-thon Bonus Round.

I don't want to go.

The Doctor was dying. There was no doubt about it. His body was failing. Having died eleven times before this, he was intimately familiar with the sensation of one's being slowly slipping away.

You were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And do you know what? So was I.

Last time, he had delayed the regeneration. His last body had held on to the bitter end. Could he do it again? Could he say his good-byes with this face while his body fought to begin the process?

I hope the ears are a bit less conspicuous this time.

His last incarnation hadn't been one for moving on, but who could blame him. The burden of the Time War still hung heavily on him. He didn't want to forget the sacrifices made that day. He wanted to live because he could remember and that kept a part of Gallifrey alive.

Physician, heal thy self.

But the Doctor was beyond that now. He had seen his grave. Everything in the universe had its time. Everything ended, even him.

He's out there… I know… I've got to stop… him…

Dying was never easy. Regeneration never dulled the pain. He was in agony until his very last cell was finally renewed. He supposed cheating death came with a price. There was always a price.

Carrot juice, carrot juice, carrot juice...

The Ponds. River. They should have been here with him in his final moments, but they were gone because of him. He just wanted one more good-bye. Couldn't the universe grant a foolish old man one more wish?

I might regenerate. I don't know. Feels different this time… Adric?

Death left in his wake. That was his legacy. When he was gone from this world, would the citizens of the universe speak of the Doctor, the bringer of death? He wasn't a healer. That dignity belonged to his friends. They saved him.

It's the end. But the moment has been prepared for.

Clara. Where was Clara? Was she safe? His Impossible Girl. She always saved him. Every lifetime, she was there. He couldn't go without saying good-bye to Clara.

A tear, Sarah Jane? No, don't cry. While there's life there's...

She looked after him. Always did. He couldn't know how this regeneration would turn out. He needed her. And the TARDIS. Was he in the TARDIS? Was he at her controls? He was losing his grasp on this world.

No! Stop, you're making me giddy! No, you can't do this to me! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...

It was his time. He had a good run. Worlds saved. Aliens thwarted. Gallifrey was out there, waiting to be found. He had wanted to find it in this lifetime, but it wasn't meant to be. He would have to see home with a new set of eyes.

Ah, yes! Thank you. It's good. Keep warm.

The console was solid beneath the Doctor's hands. He was inside the TARDIS. He could regenerate now. It was always easier when the old girl was around. She kept him safe while he stabilized.

He looked up.

And saw a ghost.

His younger self, his very first self, stared back. Weak, frail, on the verge of collapse. This was his end, too, brought on by Mondas and the Cybermen. It was all over. The end of the beginning.

He was in his old console room, his hands hovering over the controls. Had their time streams merged? Or was the Doctor hallucinating? Anything was possible as the change came on.

It's all over? That's what you said—but it isn't all over!

The words echoed across time, his own words. No, it wasn't over. It was never over. He was still the Doctor. That never changed.

The Doctor started flipping switches and the console sprang to life in return. His young self managed a weak smile before fading away with the rest of the console room. He would see him, and all of his other selves, soon.

His hands were glowing. It was starting.

The Doctor reached up and straightened his bow tie with a smile. Geronimo.

Comments

[jennytork.livejournal.com]

Love it!!!!

[locker-monster.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[katherine-b.livejournal.com]

I really love this! Beautiful look back at the final words of all the other Doctor's incarnations as well.

[locker-monster.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I think I was musing about Eleven's final words and that eventually led me to write this. Perhaps he'll proclaim that bow ties are cool one last time.

[sid]

I've been on the fence about "that moment" in An Adventure in Time and Space, but I completely love what you did with it here! Yay for inspiration!

[locker-monster.livejournal.com]

I'm divided on that moment as well. I think I shouted "What?" a few times at the TV. I mean, it's a nice moment, but it's rather left field. With that said, it was fun to take it and spin in into something that could happen on the show.

[kaffy_r]

Absolutely, elegantly gorgeous.

[locker-monster.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I wanted to give Eleven a personal send-off before Christmas.

[a-phoenixdragon.livejournal.com]

This...this was beautiful...and PERFECT. Thank you for this.

*HUGS*

[locker-monster.livejournal.com]

Aw, thanks. :-) I was looking at the last words of other Doctors and it eventually led me to write this. Plus, I wanted to say good-bye to Eleven in my own way.