Sunbeams start to creep down his fingers. He turns to look at Clara and her image is reflected in hues of molten gold. Trembling fingers are raised before his face as he eyes his own hands with apprehension.
'Doctor?' Clara says his name hesitantly. Tears glisten in her eyes and she blinks them back furiously. 'Is this it?' She tries not to let he fear show in her voice but she fails and her breath catches painfully in her throat.
The Doctor looks at her sorrowfully. He's holding back the regeneration for as long as he can and the only signs Clara can see are the hints of gold threaded through the veins on his hands and the glowing pools in his eyes.
'This is it.' He confirms, and those three tiny words shatter all the defences she has and the tears flow freely down her cheeks.
Three life changing words – she'd always thought tht they'd be 'I love you'. But this was the Doctor and if there was one thing he always did, it was surprise her.
The Doctor steps towards her, catching her wet face in the palms of his glowing hands.
'Don't cry.' He says. 'It'll still be me. Silly old me, Clara.' He grins toothily even as a shadow of doubt flickers across his face.
'But it won't will it?' Clara says. 'He won't be you. He won't have that floppy hair, or those cheekbones. He won't be clumsy and adorable and sweet and funny in the way that you are.' Clara finds it strange to be admitting all these things to him; the way she views him, the way she feels about him. But she knows she has to, now. Why did she wait so long?
'He won't have green eyes and he won't always say just the right thing in just the right way that makes everyting better. You make everything better. I don't think he can.' She smiled tearfully and tugs at his bowtie. She can't meet his eyes, not yet.
'He won't wear one of these, and I'll never hear the words, "Fezzes are cool" again. He won't be my Doctor. He won't be the man I-' She hesitates, bites her lip. Her stomach twists into a knot. She closes her eyes, and then blinks them open again. She steps forwards, finally meets his gaze.
'He won't be the man I love.' She says, softly, quietly, and it floats in the air between them, fragile and breakable and almost tangible. And she feels better after saying them, the words she should have said such a long time ago.
'I love you.' She says again, tearfully, and then laughs ruefully.
'How could I not? You flew into my life in a big blue snogbox and showed me everything beautiful in the universe. I've seen everything beautiful in you, too.' She tells him. 'Even though you think there isn't anything beautiful about you, but there is. And I've seen all of the darkest parts of you, too. And I told myself, don't fall in love; but of course, that didn't work. And now, here we are. With me telling you all of this, far too late.' Her voice breaks and she can't carry on.
Her eyes search the Doctor's but his expression is unreadable. And then a soft smile tugs the corners of his lips and softens his gaze. He slips his fingers around hers, clasping her hands tightly.
'Ding dong, brilliant! Better late than never,' He says, but it's more of a broken whisper and he swallows hard.
Clara thinks her heart is breaking as she hears his voice crack. She wonders if he can feel her pulse jump erratically and then slow, as if she's the one preparing for death.
'Clara Oswald.' He says it as if it's the first time. 'My impossible girl. My impossible girl. I never thought I'd be able to say it like that.' His voice sounds like someone scuffing their feet over gravel, low and rough. He opens his mouth, pauses, closes it again. His feet shuffle awkwardly and one hand lets go of hers to straighten his bowtie.
Even in the first stages of his own regeneration he manages to be tongue-tied awkward and Clara loves him all the more for it.
'Clara, I...' She sees him hesitate again, wonders if he's going to do the same to her as he did to Rose, and leave with a 'Does it really need saying?'. And she thinks that if he does she'll never recover.
'I love you.'
She thinks she might have imagined it, at first, a sentence so quiet it barely reaches her ears before fading away.
But she feels his grip tighten around her hands and he inhales hard and she knows how much it's cost him to utter the words.
She's not sure what she feels; her heart bursts into an explosion of emotion. She's happy, of course, but at the same time she thinks she's shattering into a million tiny fragments, just like she did when she jumped into his timestream to save him. The tragedy of her situation is what hurts the most.
She's reaching up, hands starting to pull at his bowtie to bring him down to her level, when he convulses and bright light flares up from his hands.
He falls to the floor and she falls with him, body and mind.
She doesn't notice that she's crying again until she sees her own tears leave shining tracks across his face.
'Please-' She wants to scream but her voice is barely there. 'I was born to save you, remember! There has to be something I can do. Please, just tell me, and I'll do it. I'll do anything.'
He struggles into a sitting position, breathing hard. He closes his eyes for a long moment, straining against something, and the light reduces a little.
'There's nothing you can do, Clara.' He pants, and she sees her eyes reflected in his; broken and scared and a little lost.
His hand reaches up again to hold her face, thumb carressing her cheek.
'Just stay with me.' He whispers.
'Always.' She tells him, and she pulls him towards her so he's half supported by her, half leaning back against the TARDIS railing.
There's a moment of silence.
And then;
'I'm scared, Clara.'
It's one of the very few times he's ever said he's scared out loud, she knows. And she doesn't want him to be scared, not in his final moments. Even if she can't save him from regeneration, maybe she can save him from himself.
'Why?' She asks, softly.
He shifts up into a more upright position, turning towards her, desperation giving him strength.
'I want you to remember me.' He tells her. 'Because nobody else will.'
'How can you think that?' Clara begins. 'After everything you've done, everyone you've saved you think they won't remember you? You're not dying, Doctor. You're regenerating and you'll still be the same per-'
She's cut off as he shakes his head viciously.
'No, not like that. They won't remember me. This form. Nobody cares, Clara. As long as I'm still the Doctor, it doesn't matter to them what form I take. But every time I change, it's like becoming a new man. The same memories, the same past, but with a new personality and new opinions and new thoughts. And me? This Doctor? I'll be forgotten. Because even I won't care, Clara. I won't even care about myself. I'll look back at myself and I'll laugh and ask myself, 'Why on earth did I like those bowties?'. And I'll be just another memory locked away in the back of my own mind, just like all my previous selves are in mine.'
He pauses for breath and then he's crying, and Clara isn't sure what to do because she's only ever seen him cry once before and she didn't know what to do then, either.
The most important man in the universe and he's scared of being forgotten.
So she just holds him, wraps her arms around him and lets him cry because that's what she's meant to do.
'I'll never forget you.' She tells him. 'Never.'
He looks back up at her and his eyes are wet. 'Thank you. I won't forget you, either.' He promises, but she wonders if it's something he can really guarantee.
And then he yells in pain as he lurches forwards, groans loud and long as he crumples into a heap on the floor.
'I can't- I can't keep it back anymore, it's starting-' He tells Clara and she kneels over him, cupping his cheeks.
'Just one second, chin boy.' She tells him.
His thumb wipes a stray tear away as she leans towards him.
She feels his arms wrap around her waist and she chokes back tears as she realises that this is the first time he's ever held her in this way.
'Show me the stars.' She whispers, and then he kisses her, hard, and he leaves intoxicating traces of salt and sadness on her lips. She likes to think that she can taste a thousand universes on his mouth.
She loses her breath, runs her fingers through his hair, because, after all, it's the only chance she has.
Her heart pumps colour instead of blood; malachite, emerald, indigo-blue.
She thinks that if she could only exist in this moment, forever, she'd take it and be happy. Because this is how it's meant to be; her and her Doctor, running together, always.
And then a blast of energy tears her away, leaving her gasping and crying and her arms feel terribly empty. He turns his head to look at her and his eyes are a stranger's, shining gold coins in his skull.
'Clara.' He says. He stands, leaning against the console, and spreads his arms hesitantly. One hand reaches towards her and then falls again. 'My Clara.'
And then his head is thrown back and she has to shield her eyes as a supernova erupts from his hearts. Rays of light stream out from his hands and his head, surrounding him in a golden aura.
The golden light expands and grows brighter until she has to cover her face with her hands, burying her head against the floor.
She thinks it's only fitting that someone like him should end in such a dramatic way.
Because the Doctor dies the way he lives; majestically, beautifully, and wonderfully. Shining light into every corner of time and space.