*cracks knuckles*
I am so ready to be back on here. Right now, I'm basically kicking myself because I've abandoned Fanfiction for a full two years. Two years, I tell you. A deep whirlpool of writer's block and other problems just sucked me in and would not let me go. But now I'm back, and I'm here to stay. I sincerely apologize for leaving you all here, dear followers, and I hope this fic will make up for it. Although, really, I don't think anything will make up for an almost two and a half year hiatus.
Just in case anyone is wondering, I will be continuing a couple of fics on my page, but other than that, I will be posting just new ones I write.
This fanfiction is set after the Twelfth Doctor has had all his fun, and it's finally time for his song to end.
"What A Wonderful World", copyright of Louis Armstrong
The pure quiet of space had always calmed him. Even when his blood had been filled with ice or when his head had thoughts of anger, the cold blackness seeped into his skin and sent a rush of quiet through his veins. It really was a beautiful thing, quiet. The wonders it could make visible.
And right now, the Doctor could see nothing but the milky, swirling nebula that floated in the darkness.
He was settled in the door frame of the TARDIS with a bowtie upon his neck and a small smile upon his face. This had always been something he cherished to do. Seeing stars be given life to flourish into things that the mind could barely even fathom. The Doctor ran his hand through thin gray hair and sighed. His two hearts beat slowly, each one barely even making a sound in his ears. They were so tired.
"Martha would've been all over me for this..." he laughed quietly. His hand made its way to the pocket in his jacket. Reaching into it, he pulled out a coin. A small coin it was too, for it barely occupied the space between his fingers. The Doctor held it up to his eyes with calloused hands, and he could see every detail in the metal. The dips and grooves of the figure adorning it, the scratches and dents from his many misadventures. Some of his fondest memories had been recorded onto that coin in the form of a scratch. This coin was only one of the many artifacts he possessed from his companions. The scarf from Donna was in his left breast pocket; the dried flower from Rose was in the pocket closest to his hearts; a drawing by Amy was in his pants pocket; a clay model of the TARDIS from Clara was by his side.
The Doctor smiled and put the coin back in his pocket, tenderly remembering every story that stuck to that piece of metal. Suddenly, his throat seemed to fill with sand and he began to violently cough, clutching his chest with a shaking hand. Bringing a handkerchief up to his mouth, he coughed and he coughed until the scratching in his throat ceased. The handkerchief had been sprinkled red. He threw the material behind his back with a scoff. Even in the time close to his death, he still possessed all the old flame he had.
The TARDIS chuffed at him concernedly. The lights that made up the control panel flashed and faltered at intervals, throwing soft glows of blue and red onto the Doctor's face. In the light, lines and wrinkles were seen clearly. Although his thirteenth regeneration had definitely seemed older than his previous selves, his age was beginning to take a toll on him. He would've been swinging his legs from the TARDIS, but his knees had become dodgy and weak. He didn't dare swing them; the TARDIS would've reproached him for not telling her he was in pain. So, he solely sat and waited for a star to be born.
Every time he witnessed the formation of a star, he always sang some song for it to be born to. How ironic. He would be singing to his own death, yet he would also be giving a star something to hear for the first time in its life. The Doctor's hearts lifted when he saw beams of light break through the misty clouds of the spinning clouds of gas and hydrogen. The beams stretched off into the vast expanse of space, travelling to who knows where, and the Doctor wished he could follow a trail of starlight one last time. But he knew his breathing was becoming labored, and his skin was becoming cold. He didn't have any energy left. Not anymore.
Discerning how the Doctor's vital signs had deteriorated, the TARDIS gently urged him to go to his bed and try to breathe easy before the time came.
"No," the Doctor said. "I want this to be the last thing I see. Life being made." He leaned over the edge a little more, his back and lungs protesting. "You know, stars see much in their lifetime. They see things that I could never hope to see. I want to know that this star will live a good life."
A subdued whirring came in response, and bit by bit he turned around to see what it was. A music box had come up out of the dashboard, balanced on a platform which extended towards the Doctor. He took it gently as if he were handling a newborn bird, and laid it down on his lap. It was a very fine music box, made of wood and carved by hand. Swirls and dips were painted daffodil yellow, flowing up the sides of the box to encircle the symbol of his people. The box itself was painted a dark blue, as dark as the bluest sea. The symbol itself was painted silver, the loops and twists shining bright in the warm starlight. He had been given this as a coming-of-age gift just as all Timelords were given, at the young age of ninety-four. The music box held the song that his life would falter to. And the Doctor knew that it was almost time to twist the key and hear it.
Suddenly, orange bathed the TARDIS and the Doctor in a soft glow, warm and light. The nebula was becoming brighter, and he knew it was time. The Doctor's hands trembled as he delicately lifted the lid of the music box. This was the thing that would lull him into that place that no one had ever seen, that place of light. Or maybe it was of darkness. The Doctor could only hold his breath as well as he could as he saw the figures that the music box contained. Crafted out of silver, there glinting in the starlight were figures of every single one of his companions. Susan, Jamie, Sarah, Rose, Martha... even K-9.
A burst of starlight made the figures seem like stars themselves. The Doctor looked up with tears in his eyes to see the newborn star burst into being, tendrils of fire trailing from it in a vibrant shade of red. The Doctor gathered up his courage, and with labored breath, reached down and turned the key of the music box. His companions began to dance, and the melody that reached his ears was unrecognizable at first. But as the small clickings of the figures wore on and the music poured into his mind, twisting around the many other songs he knew, until the tendrils of sound wrapped around one memory in particular.
The Doctor's mind flashed back to his ninth self. He had taken Rose to a planet with nothing but endless fields of green, waving in the gentle breeze. Buttercups and daisies had contrasted strongly against the grass with vivid shades of red and blue . He and Rose had gone back into the TARDIS after an afternoon of running and laughing. His blonde companion had pieces of flowers stuck in her hair, and she giggled as he picked them out of her hair. After he had discarded the flowers with a smile, he began to set up the TARDIS to take them back to Rose's apartment. But as he twisted the knobs and pressed the buttons, Rose began to sing under her breath. Her voice was gentle and soft, airy even. As the song went on, the Doctor had sighed and leaned back against the control panel, arms crossed. He let her voice carry him to places in his mind that he would come to love.
"I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world..."
The Doctor's eyes filled with tears. The tickings of the music box continued. The star began to envelope the nebula in shades of orange and yellow. And as the nebula began to drift apart to give a glimpse of the newborn star, the Doctor began to sing with the music box with a quivering voice.
"I see skies of blue...
and clouds of white,
The bright blessed day,
the dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
what a wonderful world..."
His dual hearts began to slow, beating now to the slow rhythm of the music box. The Doctor's mind filled with love and fear; love for all the beautiful things that this world was full of and the life he had lived, and fear of what would be on the other side of the dark veil that everyone had to pass behind.
"The colors of the rainbow...
so pretty in the sky...
Are also on the faces of
the people going by,
I see friends shaking hands
saying how do you do...
But they're really saying
I love you..."
The TARDIS' whirring began to die down as its owner's beating began to die down as well. The TARDIS had promised to die when the Doctor died, and now the time had come. They had lived through so much together, gone through so much. It was only fitting that they quit the adventure together. The star was fully visible through the nebula now, burning bright and hot. Arcs of fire spread out from it. It seemed as though it were reaching for its mother, just as a newborn child would. The Doctor smiled softly as he closed his eyes, and he began to speak the final verse of the song.
"I hear babies cry... and I watched them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll ever know.."
He took a ragged breath, leaning against the side of the TARDIS. Silence overtook every creation and every race, for one of the universe's greatest beings was about to fade into the place that no one could see.
"And I think to myself... what a wonderful world..."
The music box slipped from his hands. It clattered onto the floor beside him. His companions still danced, but it seemed slower now. The music slowed, and became softer. Golden light emitted from the Doctor.
"Yes... I think to myself..."
The Doctor folded his hands in his lap with a smile, and a tear slid down his face. He felt so tired.
"What a wonderful world."
A deep sigh left his mouth, taking a fine mist of gold with it. The mist floated to up above. The Doctor's chest stopped rising, and his hearts stopped beating.
Everything just...
stopped.