I do not own Doctor Who. I just love it.
Something Important
The achy, time-worn body was gone. That was good. I had tired of that dreary old thing centuries ago. I reveled in my last moments with the young, healthy body I'd missed taking for granted. Ran my hands slowly over the tweed, wiggled my toes in the well-worn shoes. Adjusted the bowtie one last time. Not a fez in sight. Well, nothing's perfect.
My musty, old-fogey clothes lay discarded in a heap on the floor. I'd flung them off, quick as a wink, upon entering the Tardis. They just weren't stylish enough for my final appearance. Clara and the Tardis deserved better. And I would give them all I had in my final moments.
I climbed the stairs slowly, savoring every single second. I'd always moved so quickly, talked so quickly. Just my nature, I suppose. Now, though, now I wanted to take the time to move just so, to speak just so. To take my time.
I wasn't stalling. Just. Taking these last, final moments and wringing all the perfect goodness from them so that I would have no regrets when my time was done. So I could let go completely and embrace this new gift of regeneration absolutely.
And there she was. Clara. My Impossible Girl. Precious. Beautiful. Petite. Full of perfect fire. It had been she who had brought me back from my dark despair. When I had hidden away in my Tardis in the clouds. When I had thought I could bear no more. She had brought me back to myself. She had never abandoned me. She had always believed in me. She had kept me from dropping off the edge. Her dedication had held me up so many times.
There she was, once more seeking me out. Lacey white blouse. Black button-up cardigan. Short, red plaid skirt. Black-tighted legs and chunky-heeled shoes carrying her slowly down the stairs once again in search of me, her Doctor.
I walked smoothly 'round my good, old Tardis. Sexy thing, she was. Always had been, always will be. My Tardis.
My shoes made small noises that Clara's keen hearing nevertheless picked up on. Of course she would. She missed nothing, not one thing. She turned slowly toward me as if she feared that with a quick movement I would vanish like a hopeful dream. So young. So beautiful. So Clara.
I stood before her, my form young, lithe, and lanky once more. I was glad she could see me like this just one more time. I had so hated being old and infirm. To shake with age and weakness. I always wanted to be strong and capable. For her. For all of them I had sworn to protect.
I smiled at her shocked, hopeful face. Her intelligent, liquid eyes in her pale, oval face framed by her tousled, dark hair. Oh, my Clara.
I stood tall and proud before her in my waistcoat, my vest, my pocket watch. My trousers I'd never cared were a wee bit too short. My cool bowtie.
And she smiled. Such an angelic smile, teary though it was.
"Doctor!" she proclaimed in relief and moved back up the stairs.
"Hello," I said warmly, and, I admit it, somewhat hesitantly.
This was to be our last conversation. I hated goodbyes. Avoided them whenever I could. But there was no avoiding this one. And I had better make it a good one.
I could feel the regeneration coursing through my bones, through every cell. There wasn't much time left. I clasped my hands together, enjoying the feel of the skin I was in. It would be different soon. I was feeling everything I could in these last moments.
"You're young again," she said. "You're okay." Reassuring herself that all was well once more.
"You don't even change your face," she concluded in wonder.
I released a small laugh, rubbing my hands together, and glancing fondly around at my Tardis.
"Started," I affirmed. "I can't stop it now. This is just the reset," I explained as I moved toward the console.
I dared not look in Clara's eyes for a moment. I could feel the comprehension dawning in her face, reflected in her pained expression.
"A whole new regeneration cycle. Oooh!" I declared, drinking my last draught of the creamy delight of fish fingery custard. Ah, good old fish fingers and custard. I was gonna miss those. I could feel the regeneration coming on. New body, new taste buds. Probably wouldn't like them anymore after this.
I heard her chuckle at me. Her silly old Doctor and his antics. Yes, my dear girl. Yes.
"Taking a bit longer," I expounded, putting the blue and white striped bowl of savory ambrosia down carefully on the console. "Just breaking it in."
I continued moving around, feeling suddenly shaky and wobbly as the regeneration gained momentum. I had only moments left in this form. Such important moments. Moments to relish and moments to waste in this oh so important final farewell. All the time in the worlds and no time at all.
My strength waved in and out. One moment, I felt like I could leap the stars. The next I could barely summon the energy to pull a level and press a few buttons on the Tardis console. I lay my head down on it for a moment, unable to fully suppress the groan in my throat.
My Tardis. Always there. Come on, Sexy. Give me just a little strength. Only a few moments more, Old Girl, eh?
I raised my head again and hid the fire in my veins from Clara, my Clara. Wouldn't do to frighten her too badly. She'd be well frightened enough in a moment when the Doctor she knew disappeared forever and was replaced by a total stranger.
"It all just disappears, doesn't it?" I speculated thoughtfully. "Everything you are. Gone in a moment. Like . . . "
Oh, how to describe it so that she might understand? I smiled. Yes, that was it.
". . . breath on a mirror."
Clara moved forward slowly, fingers touching lightly, as if holding herself together against the dread beginning to unravel her.
"Any moment now, he's a-coming." I said with a small smile. She had to know. I must prepare her as much as I could. I owed her that much. And so much more.
She asked the question I knew she would. The one written all over her face.
"Who's coming?"
Fear, yes. Dread, yes. Tears in her voice, yes. But bravery too. Whether she realized it or not. There was Clara-bravery in there as well. My beautiful, sweet girl.
"The Doctor," I told her.
"You." She almost whispered it. "You are the Doctor."
She was fighting it so hard. Fighting it with everything she had. Yes, my dear girl, I love you so.
"Yep," I agreed. "And I always will be."
Understand. I must make her understand. I must do this right. Must not leave this undone.
My hands were glowing with regeneration power. I showed one to her. The time was almost here.
I must . . . get . . . this . . . right!
"But times change. And so must I."
She was beginning to break apart. Her tears were going to breach those thick, dark lashes at any moment. If they did before I got my thoughts properly in order, their salty sorrow would distract me from my final mission in this form: taking care of Clara.
I racked my brain, trying to find the words to console her, to help her understand and accept what was happening. I wanted her to move on, to remember me, but move on, and be happy. I couldn't let go until I knew she'd be okay. These words were so important that I speak now. I must get this right. For her. For my Clara.
I struggled to think. My thoughts were racing. My blood was racing. He was, indeed, a-coming.
Then she ran giggling by in her long coat and red toboggan and rain boots. I turned and watched her run up the stairs, aghast.
"Amelia?!"
I called out, clenching my fingers into my hands, struggling to contain the regeneration for just a few more seconds. Just a few.
I barely registered all the pictures covering the walls of the Tardis. Drawn by the loving hands of children. So many. Yes, of course, she would bring them back. My Tardis. Reminding me of all the good I had managed to accomplish in this form. Oh, how I loved her. And all of them.
And this one.
It all made sense. Of course, she would come back. The Girl Who Waited.
"Who's Amelia?" Clara drew me back to the present with her quavering, melodic voice.
Yes, of course. They had never met. They should have. They would have got on like a house on fire. The universes wouldn't have needed me at all. Amelia and Clara. They would have taken care of it all together.
I continued watching little Amelia Pond, running giggling through my Tardis as she never had in real life.
"The first face this face ever saw," I responded absently, captivated by my little girl with the superhero name to go with her indomitable superhero personality.
I tried to keep track of her, but she seemed to be everywhere at once. Amelia, my Amelia. You've come back to me at last.
Suddenly I knew exactly what I was going to say to my Impossible Girl Clara. Something she could carry with her. Something meaningful to help her. Something to give her peace.
I spoke slowly, calmly, without frippery or theatrics. I gave her all I could in those last few precious moments.
"We all change. When you think about it, we're all different people all throughout our lives. And that's okay. That's good. You gotta keep moving. So long as you remember all the people that you used to be."
She could take that. She could use that to move on. To live. To enjoy her life. To be whole.
"I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me."
I smiled my clever smile, content with my words. And looked her straight in the eyes. My Clara shook her head slightly, breathing deeply. Whether from continued denial or deep emotion, I did not know.
For at that moment, I felt someone approaching, coming down the stairs. Slowly. In her black shoes and black tights. Her green and black dress. Her leather jacket. Her dark nails, sparkly wedding ring, and slender gold watch. That beautiful, long, ginger hair. Her face was so solemn, so lovely.
I saw it all. I drank the sight of her in. Oh, I had missed her so.
Fleetingly, I felt sorrow that Rory and River were not present as well. They would have been a welcome sight in these my last moments.
But this, then. This was between Amelia Pond and me.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and continued toward me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I could only watch her and wait for her to close the space between us. She did. When she smiled and her eyes lit up, I smiled back in happiness and relief.
I had done well. She was proud of me, my Amelia Pond. And it was oh so good to see her one final time.
"Raggedy Man," she spoke to me in a soft, loving voice.
Slowly, she raised her right hand and gently cupped the side of my face. Her skin felt so warm. So real.
I reached out with my trembling right hand and caressed that thick ginger hair. She spoke her last to me.
"Good night."
And she was gone in the blink of an eye. I stood with empty space before me, my hand still aloft. Gone again. Oh, it hurt. It hurt so badly for a moment that I almost forgot my important message to Clara a few moments before. My head dipped and I bit my lip in anguish.
It was done. I loosened my precious bowtie with one hand and pulled it off slowly. Oh, what I wouldn't give to feel a fez atop my head one last time. The savory taste of the fish fingery custard lingered in my mouth.
It was time to let go.
I held the bowtie up and gazed at it for a long moment. Brown with tiny white dots. Just a piece of fabric, really. Shouldn't mean so much, should it?
With a twinge of loss, I let it fall at my feet. It crumpled there as Clara, her lovely face stricken with the reality of what was happening, moved slowly toward me.
I smiled my goodbye at her and closed my eyes. I willed my body to . . .
"No, no!" she cried suddenly, rushing at me.
I opened my eyes once more as the incredible energy rushed through me, consuming every cell, every fiber of this form. I reached out my golden hand to touch hers as she begged me, pleaded with me.
"Please don't change," she whispered.
But I must. She would be okay. It was time.
And then . . . I let go.
Goodbye, Matt Smith, my Doctor. Thank you for giving us a meaningful, beautiful, farewell message to carry onward. I hope I have done your performance justice in this simple outpouring.
Thanks to my Big sis for your glowing review! I know you and I love you!
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