[When word got out that the Doctor’s younger self was missing after the mission, this Doctor was ready to move forward. It was only a matter of time before the two had to separate from each other’s timeline. He knows how the other’s story ends. As long as one of them can be here to look after Clara and keep River company.
In the dead of night, the Scotsman walks into the lab to find the other.]
Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence again.
[He tosses down a packet of biscuits, the equivalent of jammie dodgers, as he paces around his predecessor’s workstation.]
[ The Doctor's mouth twists into the slightest of smiles, but he continues with his tinkering as he speaks, right up until something is dropped down before him. ]
The very end.
[ He sets his tools down and glances down at the packet of biscuits, pushing up the goggles that had been covering his eyes. Silly to feel so stupidly sentimental about something like this, but there you go. Humany-wumany. He looks up to meet his other self's eyes. ]
I made sure to call her, knowing what I know now. Knowing what you knew.
He can feel his hearts nearly fall to the pit of his stomach. For that moment, the mechanical hums around the lab went up twenty decibels louder. For him to know that his younger self is at the cusp of regeneration drains the colour from the Doctor’s already pale skin. His feet pull him around the workstation and closer to the man he once was.]
I was barely able to stand upright, let alone talk. Every fibre in that body was burning on a molecular level so how—?
[When the Doctor finally approaches the other iteration, he slightly bends forward and cups his palm against the other’s cheek.]
[ The Doctor — this one — shakes his head. It's a small movement, subtle. ]
Oh, I remember, I was there. And it hurt too, like it always does, I thought — this is it, this is the end, but. [ He presses his lips together in a thin line. ] Suppose you could call it cheating. I think this station brought me back here and it's put me in some sort of stasis.
[ He puts his hand over his other self's hand, the one at his cheek. It's warm — almost too warm as the regeneration energy still takes its time to cool down a bit. ]
My hearts are beating just a bit too fast, still. [ He can almost hear them, like drum beats. ] But I don't feel like I'm dying. Not anymore.
[The Doctor keeps his hand there, feeling the warmth of his other self radiating off his cool fingertips. In some ways, he can feel the distant breath of him. Lost. Terrified. A lost old man who was ready to accept his fate until a clever, impossible girl came along.]
Nine hundred years.
[His eyes divert away to the other side of the lab.]
They never stopped. [Beat for breath.] I only had about two hundred more years in me. Surely, I would’ve been bald by then.
Nine hundred years. [ The Doctor repeats. ] And oh, I felt those last years of it, too. Bald and very wrinkled and not half as good as you look now, I assure you.
[ The Doctor's mouth twists into a teasing smile. ]
The reset was — nice. Helpful. [ He sighs then. ] I don't know if I was ready to go or not. [ There is a difference between being ready and being resigned to it. ] We never really are though, are we?
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action; kicking down the door to this tim horton's
In the dead of night, the Scotsman walks into the lab to find the other.]
Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence again.
[He tosses down a packet of biscuits, the equivalent of jammie dodgers, as he paces around his predecessor’s workstation.]
…How far?
jesus sorry this is so late
The very end.
[ He sets his tools down and glances down at the packet of biscuits, pushing up the goggles that had been covering his eyes. Silly to feel so stupidly sentimental about something like this, but there you go. Humany-wumany. He looks up to meet his other self's eyes. ]
I made sure to call her, knowing what I know now. Knowing what you knew.
don't even sweat it twinny 😌
He can feel his hearts nearly fall to the pit of his stomach. For that moment, the mechanical hums around the lab went up twenty decibels louder. For him to know that his younger self is at the cusp of regeneration drains the colour from the Doctor’s already pale skin. His feet pull him around the workstation and closer to the man he once was.]
I was barely able to stand upright, let alone talk. Every fibre in that body was burning on a molecular level so how—?
[When the Doctor finally approaches the other iteration, he slightly bends forward and cups his palm against the other’s cheek.]
Have I cheated the regenerational reset?
no subject
Oh, I remember, I was there. And it hurt too, like it always does, I thought — this is it, this is the end, but. [ He presses his lips together in a thin line. ] Suppose you could call it cheating. I think this station brought me back here and it's put me in some sort of stasis.
[ He puts his hand over his other self's hand, the one at his cheek. It's warm — almost too warm as the regeneration energy still takes its time to cool down a bit. ]
My hearts are beating just a bit too fast, still. [ He can almost hear them, like drum beats. ] But I don't feel like I'm dying. Not anymore.
no subject
Nine hundred years.
[His eyes divert away to the other side of the lab.]
They never stopped. [Beat for breath.] I only had about two hundred more years in me. Surely, I would’ve been bald by then.
no subject
[ The Doctor's mouth twists into a teasing smile. ]
The reset was — nice. Helpful. [ He sighs then. ] I don't know if I was ready to go or not. [ There is a difference between being ready and being resigned to it. ] We never really are though, are we?