He didn't do it often, and judging by the bulging wardrobe, it was time to do a clean out. It was strange, he mused as he eyed the many outfits hanging within, that each regeneration chose one or two changes of clothing but rarely ventured beyond those safe boundaries.
Maybe, he thought, as he fingered the lapel of Edwardian black mourning jacket and the ruffled shirt, it's because when your body could change at any minute having a familiar set of clothes was the only constant?
He smiled as he retrieved the long multicoloured scarf and the floppy hat. This ensemble was probably the most outrageous. It came at a time when the present incarnation felt a need to hide beneath layers of fabric, almost like a suit of armour, to shield himself against the cosmos while maintaining an outwardly jovial appearance. Finding the accompanying jacket he instinctively reached into one of the pockets and removed a half empty bag of jelly babies.
Wondering how you could tell if the candy went stale he pulled out a yellow one and popped it into his mouth. It was a bit dried out but still held flavour, one that he used to not be able to live without, it now it tasted like old memories and loved ones lost.
Teetering on the edge of melancholy he quickly moved on, finding the rainbow coloured suit jacket and wincing at the garish colours. That was one outfit he never understood why his past self had chosen. Opening up the garment bag he slipped the jacket and waistcoat into it and moved on. Shaking his head with a bemused smile as he did so.
He had made considerable progress until he reached the jacket with the dried out stick of celery still attached. This version of himself he had actually met while in his current incarnation. He smiled wistfully as he remembered the moment when, losing patience with his tendency to be exceedingly verbal, he had gotten told off and advised to shut up. He held the jacket to his face, gently rubbing the material on his cheek like a child with a cherished blanket. But then caught himself and grinned ruefully, grateful to be on his own so no one could see his actions. Deciding not to bag that particular coat, telling himself that it needed to be aired out a bit first, he hung in back in the wardrobe.
As he did so his hand brushed the black leather jacket and he went dead still. The memories of the Time War, standing in the burning ruins of the Citadel the thick smoke choking him as his eyes burned with tears.
The fall of Arcadia, the mighty races extinct in a hearts beat and being the only one left standing as the bodies lay strewn around him. Knowing that he was responsible for their deaths.
His knees buckled as he gripped onto the side of the wardrobe, still lost in the visions of destruction he tried to get control of himself even as the tears spilled out of his stinging eyes.
Next thing he knew he was curled up on the floor, using the leather jacket as blanket and moaning softly.
Coming back to his senses he sat up with great effort and decided that instead of house keeping what he really needed was a good cup of tea instead. He rose to his feet and took a deep cleansing breath before gingerly hanging the leather jacket up in the still bulging wardrobe and leaving the room.
It's good to see old friends, he rationalised as he started the kettle to boil, but it's best not to overstay the visit.