Regeneration, it seemed, was a fickle thing. It could be seen from one view as a very abnormal thing, to defy Death altogether. But, then, he wasn't human.
And yet, it was so simple. That alone has made him be rather flippant with his very lives, of Death itself, throwing life after life away with careless abandon, his sanity becoming a little bit more unhinged with each golden transformation.

The pain was no different each time. And, when he looked back, he'd gone in some pretty naff ways. Some very human ways. His very first regeneration was the most suitable in this case, since his cells were old and brittle, his body just ceasing to function. He may still carry all those little quirks of each one of his selves, but he just could not associate with his first life, that typically cantankerous, patronizing grandfather figure. Thankfully, Susan took pity on him and just explained that he was a bit forgetful.

One had been brutally stripped from him, by his own race. He'd never understand them, or himself. Could even admit that he held more admiration, though veiled, for the Master, at times. Now that renegade was gone for good...and his own song was ending.

So. Radiation poisoning. Again. He hadn't seen it coming. That didn't seem to be inclusive with "He will knock four times" but anything was possible, as long as it didn't mean actual death.

Then why was he so scared?

Black pain snaked through him, like tongues of flame, stabbing like vipers, clouding his vision.

A selfish thought: What had he done to deserve this?

And then it made sense. He was but a puppet, a plaything under Time's whim. He was meant to be Lord of Time, but then not even the Time Lords has master over the Universe, and when it decided, everyone obeyed.

And it had decided that it was time. There would be no hand in a jar to save him now, and - How was his, gulp, clone anyway? And Rose? He'd just...cast her and the Other off without a second thought. Did she still think of him? He'd just about crossed a line by seeing her now, New Year 2005, head swimming with pain and the golden undercurrent readying to strike. But he had to. Something told him he really had to let go soon, so he gave himself one last chance to be this incarnation's true self - vulnerable.

His throat ached at the thought at everyone he was leaving behind. But he wasn't.

Oh, it hurt. Everything. Regeneration was a gift and a curse. It meant he could be born anew- but it lost him friendship, made him more alien than ever. He briefly remembered the many rejections by others, seeing the confusion and oh, the hurt plain on their features. Who is this? What is this?

And now. Walking to his death. Going to his so-called reward. Was this supposed to be a gift, some sort of relief? Even as the Ood linked hands and sung in glorious harmony, with him half-crumpled on the snowy ground, he felt trepidation, though his face did not betray it. Simple lost in thought: Why this?

He could feel his own mortality weighing down upon him heavily. However...he chose his death. He chose to give his life for Wilf, because even though he just had to go and get himself stuck...he himself would n't have it any other way.

Though radiation had been the cause of his demise before, 500, 000 rads was no picnic and he still chose to hold it back. To be the sentimental old man he'd always secretly been, turning to visit everyone of his friends, because that was all he had.

Well. And home of course.

The TARDIS stood in the snow before him, a big blue blot in his reality. This was it. No going back. No second chances. This...or -

The last notes of the song - his song- evaporated in the snow-flecked air and impending realization came crashing down, making every nuance of pain that much sharper.

A whimper, torn violently from his throat as he realized he was terrifyingly alone and in utter agony.

Mustered all his will and what little energy he still had to pull himself to his feet, staggering blindly in the snow to his only constant companion who was waiting there, humming in anticipation.

Time to change, Time Lord. Let it go.

And then setting co-ordinates, dimly registering that they would take him somewhere, he stopped holding back the inevitable. It was bubbling under the surface, a storm just waiting to be unleashed-

His heartsrate increased, pounding hard as the foreboding golden light began to show. He held up a palm, studying the beautiful yet terrible phosphorence , having seen it all too many times before. This was what it meant to be a Time Lord. To escape mortality by a hair's breadth, but to sacrifice all for it.

It was there, diving in for the kill. No going back.

Closer and closer.

A clean slate.

"Every cell in my body's dyin'..."

It was for the best.

"You never know what you're going to end up with.."

Maybe. And maybe he just might be ginger for once.

His vision, now swallowed by it. The inevitable. But he was still holding on.

But Time waited for no man, not even for him. Time Lord Victorious indeed...

"I don't want to go"

And then he was born anew

Why yes, I did watch End of Time today. I didn't get round to doing this last year because I was too busy mourning the loss of Ten..but here it is, my contribution xD (Yesterday was it's one year anniversary!)

Happy first post of the new year everybody!

(Interesting tidbit for you all: we are all aware that the Doctor has 13 regenerations in all, yes, two of which remain? Well, in the episode of the Sarah-Jane Adventure with 11, he indicated that there isn't actually a limit on how many regenerations he can go through, thereby making him, well, immortal. I know from reading about The Keeper of Trakken episode that supposedly, only the Master has managed to escape the limit. So...is this just a last minute decision the writers decided to make so they can just keep DW going?)