Hi Guys! You don't know me, but whatever.
Been playing with this story idea for a while, and have only just got around to posting this in light of the ever shrinking countdown to the 50th Episode. A few chapters have been written out, but only going to give you this for the moment (mainly to give me more time to write it).
In-story note: The Doctor featured in this story is not the Twelfth, but a future incarnation who shall remain unnumbered.
Out-of-story note: Doctor Who is property of the BBC, I do not own any concepts in this story apart from original characters. All references will probably belong to them as well.
Hope you enjoy, and please review!
-Timing Malfunction-
-Instigating Automatic Landing Procedures-
The console room lurched as its only occupant fought to keep the ship going. Smoke was starting to flow out of the controls in great clouds, combining in an attempt to stop the Time Lord completing this mission. Air thickened with the great fog of chemicals and carcinogens, little hindrance to him, but for brief seconds he would be overcome by an all-consuming wave of sickness.
It was starting.
He had been too foolish this time, or too kind. To save a world by moving it across the cosmos single-handedly, it had cost him a life. The strain of doing the job designed for six pilots, along with the damage to the TARDIS's engines and the radiation spikes that had seeped in, he knew his time was at an end.
"Time for another man to take my place." He muttered to himself, watching as the veins on the back of his hand started to glow, gold like the stars of his long-gone home.
A final wave, a flick of a lever and a crash to the floor, he felt the TARDIS begin a descent to the safest place he knew. Where the chances of discovery and conflict before his next life could stabilise were so slim, they were hardly worth mentioning. Of course, that rarely happened.
The churning of the rotor stopped. The floor gave a final lurch, and smoke ceased to rise.
"Well, here goes nothing." The Doctor sighed, before leaping up to face his beloved ship, opening his arms and giving a yell as the energy began to pour like a Midas light from his limbs.
His regeneration shook his mind, tore it apart, died a hundred times as his skin burnt into a fresh appearance. He was reduced to stem cells and then born into a new body, new mind, and new soul. All the men that could have been, that still could be, flicked across his face. Not one had any greater chance of being than another. So much possibility. Born of pain and heroism, wary but enthusiastic to see all there was to see. He would never change at heart. Whoever he became now would still be the wide-eyed, lonely, compassionate man. It was almost comfort in the hell of rebirth.
It ceased as quickly as it had started. The Last of the Time Lords looked on his smouldering TARDIS, fresh, old eyes coming to see a new way. It took him seven seconds to judge his situation, undercooked as he was.
"We're in a pickle, aren't we my dear?" The New Doctor said, his first words, defining himself anew.
He quickly came to the realisation that his current surroundings may be dangerous. Chemical fog, multiple fires and sparking components seemed like possible mortal threats to him. A coward he was not, but he could feel the push of the TARDIS telling him to leave he ruin. Walking on jelly legs, he sprung surprisingly quickly across the console room to the door, picking up his old blazer as he went.
"Be back soon sweetie!" He called behind him, feeling the door click and lock automatically as the TARDIS began to self-repair and change the desktop. Taking a few steps out into a field, he saw the first sunrise of this body, excitedly, if wistfully saying: "Let's see what kind of person I am now."
Inside the now dark console room; the cracked, flickering screen read an unnoticed message.
-Current Destination: England, Sol 3, Sol. 05:27:56, Friday, Twenty-Third, May, 2014 Local Time-
-DANGER-
-Class One Life Form-