Chapter 24: Time to confront fate and say "Hello".
"If you are renewed by grace, and were to meet your old self, I am sure you would be very anxious to get out of his company." ― Charles H. Spurgeon
Once the Other explained his plan the Doctor was flabbergasted. It was interesting of course, brilliant too in its formation, but it didn't involve just him. There was a risk it wouldn't work either, a big risk, but almost at once the Doctor decided he wanted to try. He had questions and comments the two men discussed at length before the Doctor was satisfied.
"Okay, do it," he said decisively.
"You're sure?" the Other asked. "It's probably going to hurt and she'll be more than a little angry with you – with me too. Not looking forward to that, I have to say."
"It you do it right I'll be the one copping the flak," the Doctor pointed out. "And yes, to answer your question, I'm sure."
"Very well," the Other agreed.
"There's just one thing, before we do this," the Doctor said.
"Just the one?" the Other smiled. "What is it?"
"The Kelad? Seriously, you couldn't think of a better name than that?"
"You don't like it?" the Other laughed. "I thought it was quite clever myself – Dalek spelt backwards. I was hoping it would raise suspicion about who they really were, but in the wrong direction. If you'd known they were Gallifreyan at the start you would have dug your heels in and not gone along because you would know there was no way they'd hurt you or River. No amount of subconscious pushing from me would have gotten you here."
"True," the Doctor allowed, "and I did think for a time that they were a future version of the Daleks, what with the armour and the uniformity and all that true path nonsense. That would have been a whole new world of trouble, which of course you knew I'd not be able to ignore."
"It served its purpose then," the Other smiled. "No more delays … well, we can delay as long as we like I suppose, but I'm sure you're anxious to get back to your wife, who, if I haven't already said, is one hell of a woman."
"I'm sure that once she'd forgiven us both she'll appreciate your approval," the Doctor said sarcastically. He stopped, suddenly serious. "You'll take care of her, if this doesn't work completely as intended?" It was all well and good taking a cavalier approach as though the deal was done, and done successfully, but there were real and serious risks in what the Other proposed, with even more serious consequences. In moments the Doctor could literally cease to exist ... the only thought that offered comfort and held back imminent panic was that River wouldn't share the same fate, that the Other would make her continuing existence as fulfilling as possible.
"You have my word my friend," the Other promised. "I'll look after both of you, for as long as it's needed."
The Doctor nodded, relieved. On the one hand he barely knew the man before him but for what counted, his knowledge was intimate ... the Other was as loyal and true a friend as there had ever been. He'd committed lifetimes to avenging Omega and the Doctor knew he would do the same for him. Thankfully the commitments they were making didn't require anything quite that extreme.
"Oh, and no changing my name," the Doctor added. "That's my regeneration you're hijacking – you let go of the Other and become the Doctor. I'm not as well-known as I used to be but it'll smooth the way for you with the people who can help you the most. Don't be too proud to ask for that help either ... take it from me, its a lonely life without companions, especially for a madman with a box."
"Agreed," the Other said. "'The Other' belongs in the myths of Gallifrey's past. There's no place for him out in the real world. As for the rest of it, I've been isolated for far too long already ... I'm looking forward to some actual, real, conversation."
"My subconscious not entertaining enough for you?" the Doctor quipped.
"Too entertaining, if truth be known," the Other retorted. "Seriously, you never saw the allure of just putting your feet up for a few weeks?"
"In theory, perhaps," the Doctor chuckled as he continued, "but the universe always seemed to have other ideas. Perhaps you'll have better luck with that than I ever did."
"I certainly plan to give it my best shot," the Other agreed.
"Good," the Doctor nodded. "I'd appreciate it if you'd go and see the in-laws too. Amy and Rory deserve to know what happened. I can't disappear and never return, not with them. Tell them everything – no lying or pretending I'm still around, okay. I don't want unfinished business to weigh them down."
"I'll pay them a visit," the Other agreed. "It might smooth the way a bit with River too, once she's calmed down enough to listen, if you can tell her I'm taking care of her parents too."
"It might," the Doctor nodded, even though that hadn't been his reason for requesting the favour. Well, that was as much delaying as even he was capable of. It was time to proceed - time to confront fate and say "Hello" ... hopefully not following it just as quickly with "Goodbye"! Shaking off those less than positive reflections, the Doctor held out a hand and shook the Other's firmly when it was offered. "Good luck," he said.
"You too," the Other replied.
The Doctor closed his eyes. "I'm ready," he announced.
His perceptions shifted and he was back on the ground, under the blue sky of Trenzalore, with the sounds of River struggling to break away from the Kelad soldiers holding her in the background. He'd spent hours in that space between moments but no time had passed. The pain was intense, the poisonous energy of the Silence working its way through his entire body, killing cells as it spread. He groaned, writhing and twitching.
"River," he called out, his voice begging the Kelad to let his wife approach. "River!"
"Doctor. I'm here," River dropped down beside him with a metallic clunk. "Don't fight it," she pleaded. "Let the regeneration happen."
"I'm … trying," he got out weakly. He looked at her and imagined it was her face he was seeing, her blue eyes smiling down at him, her wild mess of hair shifting in the breeze. "Forgive me," he said.
"Of course I forgive you," River exclaimed. "It's hardly your fault you got shot."
"Not … for … that," his voice was weaker now. "Hurts," he whispered.
"I know, my love, but it will be over soon," River promised.
"Need … you to … get back ... now," he was barely audible now. River knew how it worked, how dangerous the last powerful burst of regeneration energy could be in the final stages. She got up.
"Everybody move back," she urged, putting her arms out as she herded the Kelad out of the way.
The Doctor cried out. Bright golden life force burst forth, from his hands and feet, and from his open mouth. He screamed and screamed as it went on and on for far longer than a normal regeneration would, until suddenly it stopped, like a light being switched off.
When it did, a new face wasn't the only, and by no means the most dramatic change that had taken place. Madam Kovarian was still present with her lone remaining Silence minion, but the waste and destruction of the field had been wiped clean. The Kelad had disappeared, all of them, just gone as if they'd never existed. River was gone too but where she'd been standing was a small blue cube, about a half a meter each direction. There was a blue glow coming from within, and if you looked closely you could see circuits inside where it flowed like blood in a living being. On the outside were etched symbols – circles and lines and other markings that only one person alive would be able to read.
In the distance a blue police box stood, waiting.
Panting, the man slowly got up from the ground, dusting off his tweed jacket and pants. He was tall and lean, like the eleventh doctor had been, and a much closer match than any previous incarnations. It was almost as if they shared a family resemblance, like they were brothers, or father and son, or other close relatives.
"Hands, fingers, all accounted for," he commented, doing a visual and sensory inventory. "Hair, yes, and plenty of it. That's a relief. Other body parts?" He glanced down at himself. "Not bad, if I do say so myself, although the tweed has to go. The bow tie too. I'm sorry Eleven, but bow ties are definitely not cool."
His hazel eyes sparkled with life and a few wisps of yellow energy seemed to hover in the air, surrounding him as though reluctant to part ways. The breeze wafted through his brown hair, stirring the long strands so that they brushed the collar of his jacket and fell forward to obstruct his vision. He brushed them back with long, slender fingers ... his movements creating an impression of capability. In fact, everything about him suggested that there wouldn't be much he couldn't achieve if he put his mind to it. "Yes, a haircut, definitely," he muttered, brushing the offending strands back again, "a shower - hot water, how long have I been without that?! - and a change of clothes. I wonder what he left me – must go and check."
He spun around, clearly looking for something. When he saw the cube on the ground he gave a satisfied nod. "Thank God," he exclaimed, bending down to pick it up, running his hands over it and cocking his head as if listening for something. After a moment he smiled, nodding in satisfaction. "You know, I really wasn't all that sure the plan would work."
"Excuse me," Madam Kovarian interrupted imperiously. "Who are you?"
"Why, I'm the Doctor of course," the man smiled. "I'm the Doctor and you're Madam Kovarian and your reason for being here is finished. Look around – the fields of Trenzalore. The Eleventh has fallen, the question has been answered, and what do you know, we're all still here. It looks like you were wrong after all. Silence did fall but it never meant what you thought." He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her intently.
He couldn't start the twelfth incarnation of the Doctor with an attack on an unarmed woman – could he? No, no, much as it pained him, there was no other recourse but to let her go. With a sigh he settled for giving her a disgusted and hopefully menacing look instead. "I'd suggest you go and find another occupation because you're out of business in this one. And be warned, make it as small and as insignificant as you can because if I ever come across you again, you won't walk away."
He turned his back to her creating exactly the right impression - she was of so little consequence he'd already forgotten her – certainly time was precious enough that wasting any of it on one such as her would be criminal.
Walking briskly, the cube clutched protectively under his arm, he continued. "Right, where was I? Oh yes, hair and wardrobe first and then something to eat. I'd forgotten how draining a regeneration is. Custard … yes, that's definitely still my favourite … I think."
So saying, the man took off in the direction of the TARDIS, his long legs eating up the distance quickly. When he got close he snapped his fingers and the door swung open, closing only after he'd disappeared inside.