Ok, now I had to do this. I mean come on. Ever since the minisode came out I have been dying to write it up fully. So I worked it into this...it will be multi chapter and I will post it as such on its own as well as a part of One Shots in Time and Space and The Doctors.
As Ever: Review!
Heather x
Rain Gods: Part 1
The signal from the console rang out, signalling that the TARDIS had landed. The Doctor looked to from where he had been sitting. He ran up to the console, darting to look at the screen. Yes, the date and time were correct- The Felix Galaxy, Planet Delta, on a nice summer day. The TARDIS was parked outside the Felician Archives, a place River had mentioned she had an internship at.
He powered down the screen, and looked at himself in the reflective black screen. It was wrong.
He knew what he wanted to do. Flinging his arms out, he darted about away from th console to the corridors. First right, second left. He potted over to the wardrobe. Throwing off the tweed he stared at it for a moment in his hands. It was time; he couldn't hold on to the past, he had to embrace it. He couldn't wear it any longer- it was too painful. And with that thought in his mind, he threw the jacket over one of the many mirrors in the revamped wardrobe.
It's winding racks from the long gone coral theme had been replaced with mis-matched copper and crystalline doors with circular gallifreyan text telling the doctor what lay beneath. He opened a hatched and pulled out a grey waistcoat. Yes, this would do. He pulled it on and buttoned it before noticing a slight bulge in the small pocket. Opening it, he drew out a small watch. Handy. He fixed it onto the waistcoat and clipped his wristwatch off. He then walked around the maze of cupboards, doors and rails to find a purple tweed coat which he liked immensely.
Yes. It was different. Different was good.
Was it? He looked over at the brown jacket on top of the mirror and walked over to place it in his hands. The material was worn now, just like him. No, he couldn't. He placed the purple on the mirror. Could he. He switched them. Looking between both, he sighed.
He had to. Step 1: Change. Change and then maybe it'll stop hurting. Anyway, he had to look nice for River. His smile broke out against his will. River would make it better, River always made it better.
He put on the purple tweed and dusted down his shoulders before tugging down the lapels. He walked with purpose to another mirror, leaving the other jacket crumpled on the floor and looked at himself.
He remembered his first thoughts, the first day of his regeneration, the first day with Amelia:
"Let's see what we have then." He said before stepping in front and staring at his reflection. "Wow!" he exclaimed. It was all new. Not even a shred of the lanky nerd type he had been before. Shame, that regeneration had been good at running. He'd have to test this one later. But the chin! He stroked it, it was so odd. But not that big. Bigger than he had had but surely not that big!
"Blimey! The hair!" He cried, hands shooting up. Damn it, not even close to ginger. The hair was big too. Brown...again and floppy. He needed to brush it...and get rid of all his hair gel. But what are you gonna do? He was funny. He knew that. Funny...with a massive chin. He could work with that. He'd worked with less. He checked all over his body. He was glad he had all functional and ordinary body parts and limbs. A friend of his that had been on Gallifrey one regeneration and got 3 arms. Really useful for piano playing but the Doctor didn't want to play piano. Not now anyway.
The mirror had a crack in the centre, so it was difficult to see the face. Wide nose, and deep set eyes and a curved mouth and- "My Eyebrows!" His hands flew to his new face, he rubbed around a bit before locating the small eyebrows and breathing a sigh of relief. He had eyebrows...that was good. That was cool.
Now he looked at himself again, at the end of that era. Because it was an era. Oh, it was. He looked at himself; donned in a new waistcoat, jacket and watch. It was new. It was different. Not a shred of old professor, more…Victorian gentleman. He reached a hand up to slick back his brown mop. He looked at his face, the chin now seemed normal to him, as though over time his face had sort of…gotten used to it. Was that a thing? He looked at his clothes. Yes. Good. Fine.
Different.
He turned and spotted the old jacket on the floor. He picked it up and drew out his sonic to place it in his pocket before strolling over and opening a cupboard, taking out a coat hanger and hanging the jacket on with the utmost care before putting it into the cupboard. Then he turned and walked away, not glancing back.
Ta Da! At this point the Doctor is really trying to move on. And for him the only one to do that is River. He needs to let go and have a little fun but at the same time is in odds with himself; should he go on? Amy and Rory meant so much to him and so the parallel is nice.