A/N: For the first Epilogue, people have commented that it didn't tie in everything together well enough. So, I will explain why I wrote it like that and then post the new version of the Epilogue as a different chapter. Hopefully it helps tie everything together a bit better.
My reasoning for ending the Epilogue like I did was that the Doctor is a very reclusive person. After he "ended the time war" of series 1, he didn't talk about what had happened until Rose forced him to talk, same with Martha, Donna, Amelia and Clara. He doesn't like endings and death, as stated multiple times within the show. I did mention that the Doctor had a funeral by himself (Like he had for the Master after the end of season 3) for Vivian before coming back to pick up Clara. I didn't specify how long that was because he never told Clara how long it was in that conversation in the end. Clara had just lost the Doctor to regeneration and was focusing on getting her friend back. Clara would have brought up Vivian's death after the episode, but not in it. She was still so focused on her Doctor. And Clara only knew Vivian for a maximum time of a week. She knew the Doctor for longer.
Now that I have that out of the way, here is the Epilogue- Take 2.
Epilogue- Take 2
"Hello? Exit the box, and surrender to the glory of the Sontaran empire."
"Shush."
"Doctor?"
"I was being chased by a giant dinosaur, but I think I managed to give it the slip."
"Sleepy?"
"Sir?"
"Bashful? Sneezy? Dopey? Grumpy. Oh, you two. The green one and the not-green one. Or it could be the other way round, I mustn't prejudge. Oh, you remember, er. Thingy. The, er, the not-me one. The asking questions one. Names not my area."
"Clara."
"Well, it might be Clara. Might not be. It's a lottery."
"It is Clara."
"Well, I'm not ruling it out."
"Oi, big man, shut it. Oh, you've got a dinosaur too. Big woman, sorry."
"Doctor, listen to me. You, you need to calm down."
"I'm not flirting, by the way."
"I think something's gone wrong."
"Wrong? What's gone wrong? Have you regenerated? I remember you. You're Handles. You used to be a little, a little robot head, and now you. You've really let yourself go. Reduce the frequency."
"I'm sorry?"
"Your sonic lanterns, turn them down. You're giving her a headache."
"Giving who a headache?"
"My lady friend. Just an expression, don't get any ideas."
"How do you know?"
"Come on, Clara. You know that I speak dinosaur."
"He's not Clara. I'm Clara."
"Well, you're very similar heights. Maybe you should wear labels? Why, why are you all doing that? Why are you? You're all going dark and wobbly. Stop that."
"I don't think we are."
"Never mind. Everyone take five."
"What do we do?"
"I don't understand. Who is he? Where's the Doctor?"
"Right here. That's him. That's the Doctor."
"Well then, here we go again."
"And then?"
"Why are you wearing your veil?"
"And then?"
"And then we got swallowed by a big dinosaur. You probably noticed."
"How did it happen?"
"I don't know. I don't know. We were crashing about everywhere. The Doctor was gone. The Tardis went haywire."
"He's not gone. He's upstairs."
"Okay, he changed."
"He regenerated. Renewed himself."
"Renewed. Fine."
"Such a cynical smile."
"I'm not smiling."
"Not outwardly. But I'm accustomed to seeing through a veil. How have I amused you?"
"You said renewed. He doesn't. He doesn't look renewed. He looks older."
"You thought he was young?"
"He looked young."
"He looked like your dashing young gentleman friend. Your lover, even."
"Shut up."
"But he is the Doctor. He has walked this universe for centuries untold, he has seen stars fall to dust. You might as well flirt with a mountain range."
"I did not flirt with him."
"He flirted with you."
"How?"
"He looked young. Who do you think that was for?"
"Me?"
"Everyone. I wear a veil as he wore a face for the same reason."
"What reason?"
"The oldest reason there is for anything. To be accepted."
"Jenny and I are married. Yet for appearance's sake, we maintain a pretence, in public, that she is my maid."
"Doesn't exactly explain why I'm pouring tea in private."
"Hush now."
"Good pretence, isn't it?"
"I wear a veil to keep from view what many are pleased to call my disfigurement. I do not wear it as a courtesy to such people, but as a judgment on the quality of their hearts."
"Are you judging me?"
"The Doctor regenerated in your presence. The young man disappeared, the veil lifted. He trusted you. Are you judging him?"
"How dare you? How dare you?"
"Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor. Last of the five good 'uns. Stoic philosopher."
"Superlative bass guitarist. The Doctor really knows how to put a band together.
"And the only pin-up I ever had on my wall when I was fifteen. The only one I ever had. I am not sure who you think you're talking to right now, Madam Vastra, but I have never had the slightest interest in pretty young men. And for the record, if there ever was anybody who could flirt with a mountain range, she's probably standing in front of you right now. Just because my pretty face has turned your head, do not assume that I am so easily distracted."
"Whoo. Whoo. Sorry."
"Well, goodness me. The lake is ruffled at last. I often wondered what you'd be like when you lost your temper."
"Oi. Married."
"The Doctor needs us, you more than anyone. He is lost in the ruin of himself, and we must bring him home."
"When did you stop wearing your veil?"
"When you stopped seeing it."
"Argh. Argh. Oh. Halt. Sorry, I'm going to have to relieve you of your pet."
"You're what?"
"Shut up, I was talking to the horse."
"What are you doing?"
"Forwards."
"Left. No, no. Right, right, right, right. Sorry, it's my new hands. I can't tell them apart."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know. Maybe the smell?"
"I know. It's everywhere."
"Where did you get that coat?"
"Er, ahem, I bought it."
"From where?"
"Er, a shop?"
"No."
"Might have been a tramp."
"You don't have any money."
"Er, I had a watch."
"No. That watch was beautiful."
"It was my favourite."
"You swapped your favourite watch for that coat. That's maybe not a good deal."
"Well, I was in a hurry. There was a terrible smell."
"Okay."
"No. No, don't. Don't. Don't. Don't smile. I will smile first and then you know it's safe to smile."
"Are you cross with me?"
"I am not cross. But if I was cross it would be your fault and. Yes, I am cross."
"I guessed that."
"I am extremely cross."
"And if I hadn't changed my face, would you be cross?"
"I would be cross if I wasn't cross."
"Why?"
"Why? An ordinary person wants to meet someone that they know very well for lunch. What do they do?"
"Well, they probably get in touch and suggest lunch."
"Mmm hmm. Okay, so what sort of person would put a cryptic note in, in a newspaper advert?"
"Well, I wouldn't like to say."
"Oh, go on, do say."
"Well, I would say that that person would be an egomaniac, needy, game-player sort of person."
"Ah, thank you. Well, at least that hasn't changed."
"And I don't suppose it ever will."
"No, I don't suppose it will, either."
"Clara, honestly, I don't want you to change. It was no bother, really. I saw your advert, I figured it out. I'm happy to play your game."
"No. No, no. I didn't place the ad. You placed the ad."
"No, I didn't. "
"Yes, you placed the ad, I figured it out. Impossible Girl, see? Lunch."
"No, look, the Impossible. That is a message from the Impossible Girl."
"For the Impossible Girl."
"Ooo."
"Oh."
"Well, if neither of us placed that ad, who placed that ad?"
"You will be destroyed."
"Destroy me, then. And if you don't, then I'm not going to believe a single threat you make from now on. Of course, if I'm dead, then I can't tell you where the other one went then. You need to keep this place down here a secret, don't you? Never start with your final sanction. You've got nowhere to go but backwards."
"Humans feel pain."
"Ah. Bigger threat to smaller threat. See what I mean? Backwards."
"The information can be extracted by means of your suffering."
"Are you trying to scare me? Well, cos I'm already bloody terrified of dying. And I'll endure a lot of pain for a very long time before I give up the information that's keeping me alive. How long have you got?"
"All you can offer me is my life. What you can't do is threaten it. You can negotiate. Okay, okay, okay. Okay, yes, yes, yes, I'm crying and it's just because I am very frightened of you. If you know anything about human beings, that means you, you're in a lot trouble."
"We will not negotiate."
"You don't have a choice. I tell you what. I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."
"We will not answer questions."
"We'll take turns. I'll go first. Why did you kill the dinosaur?"
"We will not answer questions."
"Why'd you kill the dinosaur?"
"We will not answer questions!"
"Then you might as well kill me, because I'm not talking again till you do."
"Within the optic nerve of the dinosaur is material of use to our computer systems."
"You burned a whole dinosaur for a spare part? No. No, hang on. You know what's in a dinosaur's optic nerve, which means you've seen them before."
"Where is the other one?"
"How long have you been rebuilding yourselves? Look at the state of you. Is there any real you left? What's the point?"
"We will reach the promised land."
"The what? The promised land? What's that?"
"Where is the other one?"
"I don't know. But I know where he will be. Where he will always be. If the Doctor is still the Doctor, he will have my back. I'm right, aren't I? Go on. Please, please, go on, say I'm right."
"Ah. Hello, hello, rubbish robots from the dawn of time. Thank you for all the gratuitous information. Five foot one and crying. You never stood a chance. Stop it."
"SS Marie Antoinette. Out of control repair droids cannibalising human beings. I know that this is familiar, but I just can't seem to place it."
"How would you kill me?"
"Sister ship of the Madame De Pompadour. No, not getting it."
"How would you kill me?"
"Why don't you have a drink first? It's only human."
"I am not human."
"Neither am I."
"Please come in."
"I'm not interrupting?"
"I should be glad of your company. What can I do for you?"
"Ah, well, that's exactly what I was going to ask you. Seems like I'm stuck here now. Got a vacancy?"
"You would be very welcome to join our little household, but I have it on the highest authority that the Doctor will be returning for you very soon."
"Whose authority?"
"Well, the person who knows him best in all the universe."
"And who's that?"
"Miss Clara Oswald. Who perhaps has, by instinct, already dressed to leave."
"I just wanted a change of clothes. I don't think I know who the Doctor is any more."
"It would seem, my dear, you are very wrong about that. Clara? Give him hell. He'll always need it"
The Doctor had entered the TARDIS to see Vivian's body laying on the TARDIS floor. He stared sadly at it, holding back his tears. He would not cry. He was a Time Lord and Time Lords did not cry.
It all happened so fast. His coming death and then the granting of the new regeneration cycle, he had forgotten about Vivian. Or how only one Time Lord could be granted a new regeneration cycle at a time. It took too much energy. Vivian let it go to him rather than her.
The Doctor closed his eyes and opened them again, steeling himself for the preparation for the funeral.
The Doctor stood on top of the highest peak of the Mountains of Castoberous. He had piloted the TARDIS to the highest peak, built a burial pyre and laid Vivian on it, conforming to the tradition of a Time Lord burial. A Time Lord's body, even a dead one, is a miracle and could not be risked leaving in a coffin.
The Doctor said the burial rites in Gallifreyan and then lit the pyre. The flames grew hotter and taller. The night wore on as the Doctor kept his vigil. After his vigil, he left in the TARDIS to pick up his wayward companion.
"You've redecorated." Clara stated as she entered the TARDIS.
"Yes." The Doctor stated as he watched his companion look around the newly redecorated TARDIS.
"I don't like it." Clara stated, "My god. I've just remembered. Where's Vivian?"
"I'm the Doctor. I've lived for over two thousand years, and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes, and it's about time that I did something about that. Vivian didn't make it. She was dead by the time we landed in London. That's where I was. Burning the body. I'm the last of the Time Lords again." The Doctor breathed out and changed the subject, "Clara, I'm not your boyfriend."
"I never thought you were." Clara said, going along with the change in subject.
"I never said it was your mistake." The Doctor set the TARDIS flying then shows off the red silk lining of his dark blue Crombie coat. Those trousers are a tad too skinny for my taste, especially with the black shoes, "What do you think?"
"Who put that advert in the paper?" Clara asked.
"Who gave you my number? A long time ago, remember? You were given the number of a computer helpline, and you ended up phoning the Tardis. Who gave you that number?"
"The woman. The woman in the shop."
"Then there's a woman out there who's very keen that we stay together."
The TARDIS lands, "How do you feel on the subject?"
"Am I home?"
"If you want to be."
"I'm sorry. I'm, I'm so, so sorry. But I don't think I know who you are any more." Clara stated. Her cell phone rings.
"You'd better get that. It might be your boyfriend."
"Shut up. I don't have a boyfriend."
"Well?" The Doctor asked, stepping out of his TARDIS and closing the door.
Clara, sniffling, turned around, her cell phone gripped strongly in both of her hands, "Well what?"
"He asked you a question. Will you help me?"
"You shouldn't have been listening."
"I wasn't. I didn't need to. That was me talking. You can't see me, can you? You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here, standing in front of you. Please, just, just see me."
Clara walks forward and studies his face carefully. Then she smiles a little, "Thank you."
The Doctor frowned, For what?"
"Phoning." Clara throws her arms around his neck.
The Doctor didn't put his arms around Clara, just held them outright, stiffly, "I, I don't think that I'm a hugging person now."
"I'm not sure you get a vote." Clara said.
"Whatever you say."
"This isn't my home, by the way." Clara stated and she let go of the hug.
"Sorry. I'm sorry about that. I missed."
"Where are we?"
"Glasgow, I think."
"Ah. You'll fit right in. Scottish."
"Right. Shall we, er." The Doctor hesitated, then spit out what he was trying to say, "Do you want to go and get some coffee, or chips, or something? Or chips and coffee?"
"Coffee. Coffee would be great. You're buying." Clara said, looping her left arm with his right one.
"I don't have any money." The Doctor stated, looking down at his companion, his impossible girl.
Clara smirked, "You're fetching, then."
"I'm not sure that I'm the fetching sort."
"Yeah, still not sure you get a vote."
After the coffee trip, the Doctor and Clara came back into the TARDIS and he dropped his companion off at her home. The Doctor paced around in the TARDIS, trying to get a lock on his anger. He was alone again. He had just found another one of his race and he had just about killed her.
The TARDIS lights flashed in annoyance and the Doctor roared at it, "I know it wasn't my fault." The lights flashed again, "Oh, sod off." He yelled, kicking the TARDIS with his foot. The TARDIS jerked around in retaliation, not stopping until he fell on his bum.
"You're not helping." He growled.
A light flashed and said, "New message."
The Doctor was up in a flash, "New message?" He muttered. Then loudly he said, "Play."
A holoprojector appeared with Vivian's elderly twelfth regeneration. She smiled and the recording started to play, "Hello, Doctor. I bet you're wondering when I recorded this. Currently you are asleep on your workbench after fixing too many toys. You really need to sleep more often. Anyway, I know I'm due for my death soon. I can feel it. There's still a chance for you to gain another regeneration cycle, so I hope that works. I'm sorry about how my younger self acted towards you. That's all the apology you're going to get. But, I think it's time I told you about the Gifted. I kept it secret from you this whole time because I know you hated soldiers. I count as one.
"The Gifted is a program started by Lord Rassilon at the beginning of the war. The main goal was to train Time Lords from birth to death in the ways of an obedient soldier. We got sent on the most dangerous missions that no one else would do. I've drawn up a detailed missions report that shows every mission the Gifted were sent on. It's in the hold below the TARDIS counsel, written with pen and paper so it's in-hackable. Do something useful with that information. I'm sorry that I'll be leaving you alone, but I think it's about time that I go onto my next adventure.
"To Clara, take care of him. He can be stubborn and make mistakes. I'm giving you a job. That job is to help him. He is still the same Doctor, even after regenerating. Take care."
The hologram fuzzed out and the lights dimmed. The Doctor just stood there in silence. He closed his eyes, breathed in and out, then opened them again. He would show Clara her part of the recording the next time he saw her.
The Doctor went to his room in the TARDIS, changed into pajamas about a dozen times until he found the right ones, then flopped onto his bed and immediately began to snore. The TARDIS dimmed the lights and locked his door, doing everything she could to help her grieving Time Lord.
The End.
