The Doctor now stood in front of the painting with Clara at his side. He took her hand in his own, grasping onto what she'd done for him.
"You saved me. Again," he said, turning his head to look at her. She was still intently studying the futuristic art piece before she returned his gaze.
"Just doing what I always do," she said with a small smile. "Need a moment alone with your painting?" she asked.
"How did you know?"
Clara turned to him and caressed his cheek before giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.
"Those big sad eyes," she chuckled.
"Ah."
"I always know." She began to head back to the TARDIS. "Oh, by the way, there was an old man looking for you. I think it was the curator," she said as she disappeared into the time machine.
When Clara entered the TARDIS, she found John leaning over the console deep in thought.
"Where's your new friend?" she said with a wry smile.
"Ah, she's having a nap…I think," he said, looking towards the corridor.
Clara walked up to the console, standing next to John.
"I see you lost the tweed and bow-tie."
He looked down at himself, now wearing his own much more comfortable clothes.
"Yeah. I think I've had enough playing Doctor," he sighed.
"How are you feeling? I mean…you really scared us. Scared me. I didn't know if you were going to regenerate after being..." she didn't want to say.
"I'm fine, really," he gave a humourless laugh. "I sadly think I know how you felt."
"What do you mean?"
"Citana," he said in a low voice. Clara raised an eyebrow while John shuffled nervously.
"After we met, some men jumped us. She was stabbed, and…died. Somehow I must have used some regeneration energy and brought her back. It was scary."
Clara placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Well, I'm glad you were there. I really like her."
John smiled.
Moments later, the Doctor entered the TARDIS with a smile on his face. Walking right up to Clara, he brought her into a passionate kiss.
"Ahem," coughed John.
The Doctor straightened as Clara giggled. "Ah, John. Sorry. How are you feeling?"
"Um, fine, I suppose. Of course, I've never regenerated before, so I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to feel. Also, a little confused how I've managed to keep this chin," he chuckled as he rubbed his jaw.
The Doctor looked to Clara. "Clara, could you give John and me a moment?"
Clara nodded, then gave the Doctor a quick peck on the cheek before hugging John.
"I'm glad you're still you," she said softly.
Once Clara was gone, the Doctor began pressing buttons on the console.
"Um, Doctor? What's going on?" he asked, getting more nervous with how uncomfortable the older Time Lord looked.
"It wasn't the first time," he said in barely a whisper.
"Wasn't the first time what?"
"That you've regenerated."
…
"Three years old and already reading! You're one clever little boy," said the Doctor affectionately. He sat next to John while listening to the small child read "Goodnight Moon" before bed. John smiled at the older Time Lord. They were sitting on the small bed in John's TARDIS room.
"Could I ever really see the moon?" asked John.
The Doctor froze as he was now tucking the boy in. It never even occurred to him that John had never been outside the TARDIS. Never seen the stars or planets, let alone been down from the cloud to visit the Earth below.
"You know what? You've been such a good little boy. Let's go see the moon."
John giggled as the Doctor picked John up and carried him to the console room. The Doctor sent the TARDIS to one of his favourite spots to see the moon from Earth. It was a small grassy hill with a few fig trees scattered about. The air was warm with a pleasant breeze.
John's eyes went wide when he saw all the stars in the sky and the bright yellow moon.
"It's better than the book!" John giggled. He began to run around one of the trees. Spinning in circles fast enough to make himself dizzy and fall over.
"Give me just a minute, John. I'm going to go grab a blanket from the TARDIS we can lay on.
The Doctor quickly went back into the TARDIS to grab a quilt. When he came back out, he saw John had already managed to climb one of the trees. Before the Doctor could even utter the words "be careful," one of the small branches gave way, and the little boy fell to the ground.
The Doctor reached his tiny body only a second too late.
"John!" yelled the Doctor. "No! John!"
He knelt down, seeing his injury. The little boy was whimpering. Not conscious enough to even cry. He'd hit his head on a jagged rock just so. The Doctor was panicking now. Would he regenerate? He knew he didn't have any more regenerations left to bring someone back from death.
Right before he went to pick up his tiny body, it began to glow.
The Doctor was relieved as hard as it was to hear the little boy's anguish during the regeneration process. When John finally came to, the Doctor could see the boy hadn't changed at all. He was peacefully sleeping when he let out a small sigh, releasing a golden light left over from the regeneration energy.
…
John was silent. He vaguely remembered the small hill and the tree. But in his memory, he'd just fallen and woke up in bed the next day.
"I just assumed I had bumped my head or something. I didn't realise I…I died."
The Doctor wiped a stray tear with the palm of his hand off his own cheek. "Erm, yes. You did. I…I think that's why I kept you locked up in the TARDIS and was so wary of you going out on your own. I didn't know if we'd get that lucky again. But, well, after the second time, I ran some tests.
"Second time?" exclaimed John in shock. "Wait? Are you telling me I fucking died more than once? More than twice! When?"
"Remember when you'd gotten ill in the monastery? I told you it was some kind of food poisoning?"
John thought back to the horrible place. "Yeah, that was awful. I just remember you saying I had a high fever. I was vomiting so much it looked like blood." He then paused. "But then I woke up one morning and felt right as rain…."
"You'd succumbed to the fever," said the Doctor grimly.
"But I don't understand. Aren't I Gallifreyan? How did I get sick?"
"You not, though. Not technically. Yes, you're a Time Lord, but I hadn't thought about the fact you never actually grew up on Gallifrey and had the proper environment and diet to be immune to most diseases. 13th Century Cumbria was the first place you'd been outside Victorian London or the TARDIS. You'd fallen ill not too long into our stay there. It was my fault. I wasn't thinking about how exposing you to a new environment would affect you at such a young age. You'd spent most of your time in the sterile environment of the TARDIS before that."
"I guess that makes sense." He paused. "Is that why you were so distant with me? Why you pushed me away? You felt like it was your fault?"
The Doctor scrunched his nose. "Eh, well, that and the fact you'd started maturing," he chuckled nervously.
"Oh, right. That was fun navigating on my own," John said as he rolled his eyes.
"Sorry. Give me Daleks or Cyberman any day. But, when the child you're looking after comes to you asking why his…well, anyway. I'd rather face the threat of death."
"Why does that not surprise me." John gave the Doctor a firm pat on the back. "So, you said you ran tests? What did they say? Why still this body? How many regenerations do I even have?"
The Doctor pulled around the view screen and pulled up a chart. "Well, for starters, since the flesh took hold of the DNA from my current regeneration, whatever happened when you were stabilised, allowed you to take on my Time Lord DNA with the ability to regenerate but only to your current form. So you'll most likely continue to age another 5 or 6 years, then just sort of...stick."
"Ah, okay. That's not so terrible. And unless there is another tragic childhood death in my past that you're not telling me about, that means I've burned through three regenerations already. Don't Time Lord's only have 12? Jesus, I'm only twenty-one, and I've already used three lives!"
"Right, but here's the thing. Time Lord's only have twelve regenerations because the lot currently stuck in the pocket universe only allowed twelve. You've never even set foot on Gallifrey or even had to go through the vortex or any training or anything!"
"Okay. Right. Yeah." John paused. "I'm not following."
The Doctor looked directly into John's eyes. "You don't have a set number, John. You'll just…" he waved his hand around. "Just keep on keepin' on…." The Doctor thought John may have frozen in time with how still he was. "Are you okay?"
John slowly looked back at the Doctor. The older Time Lord could have sworn the young man's eyes were welling up. John took a seat on a step.
"I…I mean. Not that it's nice to know I won't meet an untimely death...I," he paused. "I don't want to keep on keepin' on. I mean, not forever, at least. I'll have to watch everyone…everything die. And then just be alone."
The Doctor sat next to him.
"I'll even have to watch you die, Doctor. I don't want this. I really don't want this. Isn't there something you can do?"
"Unfortunately, no. And believe me. I've even looked into it because having lived over 1000 years, I thought you might say that. The only real option I found would be to use the chameleon arch and change you human, but because you originated from the flesh, it would kill you if we tried. The human DNA wouldn't be stable, and you'd be….goo…again."
"Silver linings," whispered John.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I guess if and when I want to retire, I'll just, you know. Pop on that ugly thing and melt like the Wicked Witch of the West."
The Doctor sat back. "I mean," he looked at John. "Just wait till you at least get a few more years under your belt," joked the Doctor.
"Eh, I'm not planning on liquifying anytime soon," he smiled. As much as he hated the thought of having to "end things," himself. It was comforting to know that there was a way out of an endless cycle of regenerating as morbid as it was. "I think I'm going to have a nap. Maybe try and process…everything."
The Doctor nodded and watched as John left the console room. He then sent the TARDIS back to the flat before retreating into the depths of the time machine himself. If the Doctor was honest with himself, a nap actually sounded really good. When was the last time he actually went to bed? His face turned red. Went to sleep in a bed.
Hesitantly, the Doctor opened the door to Clara's room. He smiled when he saw she was passed out on the bed with a book in her lap. He made his way over to her, took the book and then brushed some of her hair out of her face. After taking off his shoes and other unnecessary and uncomfortable bits, the Doctor climbed into the bed.
It wasn't long ago that Clara had been lying in this bed with him sitting nearby, worried sick that she'd never wake up again. The Doctor held onto her tightly as he closed his eyes. "I love you, my Clara," he whispered before falling asleep.
…
Citana sat up a bit disoriented. "Ouch!" she cried after hitting her head on the top bunk.
"Oh, right." She rubbed her brow as she got out of bed. "That's odd," she said as she looked at the wardrobe. "Have the clothes changed?"
Citana made her way to the wardrobe and found that the clothing items were different from when she first entered her grandparents' old room. Each item could have been picked by Citana herself. She smiled. "Thank you, Sexy," she said with a chuckle. She remembered one of the last stories Nana Amy had told her about the Doctor and how he would call the TARDIS "Sexy."
Now clad in a fresh set of clothes, Citana began to wander around. She was hungry, so if her luck would continue, she'd stumble upon the right room again. Sure enough, the first door she came to led her to some type of weird space-y kitchen. With an alien making breakfast too!
"Um, hello," said Citana softly. She didn't want to scare the man.
"Oh!" exclaimed the Doctor as he turned around from the stovetop. "Oh?" he pointed at Citana. "Who are you?" He then slapped his hand to his forehead. "Oh, right! You're John's um, friend…er, lady….lady friend?" He wasn't quite sure what to make of John's "friend" wandering around the TARDIS. The Doctor thought she was just some intern from UNIT John befriended, but given she was still around the next day…
"I'm Citana." She moved closer to the stove to see what the Doctor was making. "Omelettes? And two, I see?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "Would one of those happen to be for a cute little brunette, or do you just have a big appetite?"
The Doctor took the finished omelettes off the stove. Had his hands not been preoccupied, he would have been nervously adjusting his bow-tie.
"Um, one's for Clara. She…she's still asleep."
The Doctor could feel the young girl intently watching him. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn't place it.
Citana had so many questions. Mainly involving a tall ginger woman and a kind male nurse. She just didn't know how to bring it up. From what she understood, something had happened to her grandparents that prevented them from travelling with the Doctor anymore. At first, she thought it was just a clever way for Nana Amy to convince a little girl why the raggedy man wasn't around anymore. Then as she got older, she'd realised he was never really around in the first place.
And now, here he was. Making eggs.
"Doctor?" she began, only to be interrupted by a rather obnoxious yawn.
"Good morning," said John as he made his way into the kitchen. He turned to Citana. "Erm, Citana. If you want, we can leave the TARDIS to get breakfast. We're actually in my flat right now." He then seemed to lose all confidence. "Or, not. I mean. Here is fine. Or, I mean. You don't have to eat at all. I can take you back to New York…."
"New York?" questioned the Doctor as he glanced over Citana.
"Umm, yeah. That's where we, uh, met. On accident actually but, well, she um, didn't really have anywhere else to go so I…."
Citana cut him off. "John, it's okay. I can speak for myself," she gave him a smile to show she wasn't annoyed. Instead, merely just saving him from saying something stupid.
"He saved my life, and I basically forced him to bring me to the TARDIS," she said with a chuckle.
The Doctor still had a serious look on his face. "What year?" he asked, clearly trying to sound casual as he turned his attention to the tea he was now fixing.
"1996." Both Citana and John replied at the same time.
The Doctor seemed to mumble something. Citana could feel the tension in the room, but John seemed to be oblivious.
The wheels in the Doctor's head were turning. Something was happening but, he didn't understand what.
"Well, I'm sure your family must be missing you," he said, still trying to sound casual.
"Been missing me for a while now, I expect," she sighed. "I…I sort of ran away. A few years ago, after my, well, after my grandmother passed away."
The Doctor turned his body to her and slowly took a sip of tea. John was now staring at the strange way Citana and the Doctor were looking at each other. John was about to say something, but the Doctor spoke first.
"Your grandmother must have been a great woman to cause a young girl to leave home because of her passing. I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to lose anyone, let alone someone who means so much to you."
'Why are they being so weird? Oh, right. Because he is weird, but, Citana?' thought John as he grabbed his toast.
"Doctor, I need to tell you something," blurted out Citana. John nearly choked on the very dry bread he had just ingested.
"Sorry," he coughed. "Citana? What could you possibly need to tell the Doctor? You just met him." John was panicking a bit, not really knowing why.
"Sorry, John. You wouldn't understand." She hadn't meant to snap at him, but she was nervous because John was right. She didn't know the Doctor at all. How would he react?
She didn't see John's face because her eyes were still focused on the Doctor who seemed to be studying her. If she had been looking at John, she would have seen the hurt he was trying to hide. He ended up quietly slipping out of the room without either the Doctor or her noticing.
"It's not like she's your girlfriend, idiot," John mumbled to himself as he made his way to his room in the TARDIS. Why was it bothering him so much that Citana wanted to talk to the Doctor? Was he simply jealous? John sat on his bed and ran his hand through his hair. What did she need to tell him?
John sat at the small desk in his room, put his head in his hands, and groaned. It's not like he even fancied her, right?
"Shit," he sighed as he rubbed his face. "I fucking fancy her."