.oOo.
Doctor Who
{Something Old}
:Chapter One:
"Even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away...and I'm dead." –the Doctor
Of all the ways to die, death by radiation poisoning was definitely not at the top of the Doctor's list. And now it had happened to him again. He leaned against the wall, half hidden in shadow, sweat cooling his brow and his two hearts trying to outrun each other.
Everything hurt now. But the faint sound of familiar laughter came from around the corner, easing his mind and his muscles, and for a fleeting moment the agony searing his nerves receded enough to allow him a faint smile as Rose came trundling into his view. She didn't know him now, but she would.
The Doctor's chest heaved, and he tried to bite back an agonized cry, but it tore itself out through his teeth anyway. Rose turned, and saw him.
"You alright, mate?"
The Doctor had to smile. Even before she'd met him, and gone through so much, she was still such a brave little soul. So kind, and compassionate, and not scared in the least of the strange man lurking in the dark.
"Yeah," he managed to reply.
"Too much to drink?" she asked, and he grinned crookedly at the irony.
"Something like that."
"Maybe it's time you went home," she suggested.
A lump rose in his throat, and it was a moment before he could reply. Oh, if only...Home meant so many things now. The TARDIS, waiting patiently around the corner. The empty place in the sky where Gallifrey once twinkled. The little flat just across the road, where for one shining moment, the Doctor had had something like a family...
"Yeah," he said, his voice hollow.
"Anyway, Happy New Year," Rose grinned—that bright, wonderful grin he'd come to know so very well—and she turned to go.
"And you," the Doctor nodded, but he wasn't ready for this moment to end, and he sought for something else to say to her. "What year is this?" He already knew, of course, but he just needed to hold on to her a little longer...just a little longer...
Rose turned again, and cocked a brow at him, smiling incredulously at him. "Blimey, how much have you had?"
"Oh..."
"2005, January the first," Rose went on, spelling it out like she thought he was a bit of an idiot.
"2005," the Doctor repeated, and Rose nodded, her smile indulgently amused.
"Tell you what..." he said, and a spark shone briefly in his dark eyes. "I bet you're gonna have a really great year."
"Yeah?" Rose said.
The Doctor gave her a crooked grin. Rose gave him a considering look, and smiled brightly—one last time—before she turned to run towards her building, pausing at the door to look back at him…and then she was gone.
He was never going to see her again.
His smile died, and the Doctor put his hand against the wall, leaning heavily as he made his slow, painful way back towards the TARDIS. His vision was starting to blur, and his hearts were thundering in his ears now, but he refused to die out here in the middle of the street. Home. He needed to get home first. He needed to reach the TARDIS.
In the back of his mind, the first tremulous notes of Ood song began to resonate. For an instant, he was back on the Ood-Sphere with Donna, crouching in front of a filthy cage while a handful of terrified aliens huddled with their brains in their hands…
Another wave of agony rolled through him, and the Doctor collapsed with a strangled cry. The Ood-song grew louder, stronger, and he struggled to look up through the haze that was his mind, trying to focus while his thoughts scattered like roaches in the light...the regeneration was already starting to take a hold of him, changing the synapses in his brain…
Ood Sigma stood alone in the street, translator in hand.
"We will sing to you, Doctor," he said in a voice programmed to put you at ease. "The universe will sing you to your sleep."
The Doctor closed his eyes as the first notes began to softly sound within his head, haunting and beautiful and so sad. Vale Decem...Farewell, Ten. Vaguely, he wondered why an alien song had been written in Latin. Or why it sounded so familiar, even though he knew he'd never heard it before. And yet, even as he listened, the haunting notes began to calm his fraying nerves and drive back the burning beneath his skin. With a singular determination so very unique to this young (but so very ancient) body, the Doctor hauled himself back to his feet and found the strength again to stagger back towards the TARDIS.
A wave of warmth and comfort rushed through his senses as he stepped into his beloved ship. Exhausted, he leaned on the door for a moment, feeling the steady pulse of machinery gently vibrate through his bones. Hearts beating their way out of his chest, he finally pushed away from the door, slipping out of his worn leather coat to keep it from getting damaged during the regeneration. He could feel it building, and looked down at his hand as it began to glow an ethereal gold.
He wasn't ready.
The Doctor moved around the console, half leaning it for support as he punched in coordinates, and watched as the central column slowly rose and fell as the TARDIS flew into orbit around Earth. It didn't matter where he was going, or where his new self would end up—he just wanted to know he was going. He could at least start a new adventure, even if he wouldn't get to see it to the end.
It wouldn't be long now. He could feel his body dying all around him, cell by cell by cell. And as the golden light enveloped him, the faces of all those bright, shining companions flickered behind his eyes, like an old home movie playing in his head. A deep well of pride rose up in his chest as he remembered them, every one, and what they had done with their brilliant lives. He was glad he had visited them, glad to have seen them one last time with these eyes...even if they broke his heart.
He wished Rose was here, like she was last time.
He wished anyone was here, Martha or Donna or Sarah or Susan...he'd even take the Brigadier. Because he was dying alone now, and the heartache of it all was eating him from the inside out because just once he would have liked to hold on to someone...and not have to say goodbye.
Another wave of love swept through his mind from the TARDIS as he sucked in lungful after lungful and tried not to hyperventilate.
"I don't wanna go," he said to her, in a small, choked voice. Not for the first time, he wished she could answer back. Then the world was blazing gold and his spine arched in agony, his head thrown back and his arms spread as a rush of brilliant fire raced up through his medulla oblongata, shattering his mind to pieces—and the last thing he heard, before his soul burned out completely, were those achingly familiar notes singing him to sleep…
Hello, all. I'm happy to say my muse has finally circled back around to this story, and so with a few edits in regards to what's happening with the show so far, I've decided to keep going. I've always really liked the idea of a multi-doctor fic - my favorite episodes are the ones where the Doctor crosses his own timestream - so I've decided to write my own. Every Doctor up to the Eleventh will be incorporated, as well as multiple companions, not ALL of them, but quite a lot. There is also an OC, but I think most of will realize pretty quick she isn't exactly an original character.
Anyway, buckle up, enjoy the ride, and please let me know what you think!
Raha