It was Christmas time again on that bloody timeline. The Doctor used to be so joyful about it before. Christmas time was about spending time with family and friends, a time of celebration. He remembered the Christmases he had spent with some of his companions. Rose in the Powell Estates, Gwyneth on the Titanic — the space ship, not the water ship, even if the story was quite the same in the end — the Ponds in their house with the door as blue as the TARDIS, and a couple of times with Clara. You would think it was good memories of good times if there wasn’t that hint of bitter sweetness, melancholy and sadness specific to the memories you got of the people you had lost a long time ago.
The Doctor hated Christmas for it always remembered him of disasters he had stopped and companions he had lost. His Christmas always ended in a terrible way. Most of the time, with a regeneration. That year wasn’t any different from the other years. That year was even worse in his opinion. He had promised himself to never take another companion. He had an oath to respect and had to guard a vault. He was a professor in college and that was the perfect cover for a man with an knowledge on almost everything like he was. But he was missing space. Terribly. He had always been a man on the run so becoming a settled man wasn’t one of his best decisions.
However, there had been Bill. Oh, Bill Potts. So ridiculously human and so different all at once. All smiley and sceptical. Honestly reminded him of Rose. Chips lover, bright, clever mind — though she still was a stupid ape at times, they all were, those humans! He couldn’t help himself. He already had the moralistic Nardole, but he wanted — needed — someone who would help him change his mind, who would help him out of that routine he had gotten bogged down with the years passing. What an adventure it had been! All in delicious and breathtaking unforeseen developments, all in old fellows coming back to life, all in disasters that always led him to his end.
Nothing really changed after all. Times moved on, things evolved, but the world was still working the same. It always sank in the madness of a war. And the Doctor was done fighting in wars. He was no warrior. He was just an idiot, passing through and helping out, sharing his knowledge and saving people and planets. He never asked for the troubles he always had gotten into. He never asked for the oncoming storm reputation he had. But that’s how his timeline had always been written and he had never seen anything coming. Watching his own timeline or walking into it would have been breaking the laws. Not that he cared much about the laws anyway.
“Times change and so must I” had he said in one of his previous lives. Maybe the times had changed, but he was too old now to notice any change around him. Those eyes had seen too much. Those hearts had lost too much. That body had handled too much. Now was the time to let it go. He had lost his companion. He had lost his best friend. Nothing was holding him back anymore. What was the point of fighting when every battle was already lost? He was so sick of it all. He couldn’t bear the rudeness of the universe toward him anymore. That self didn’t have faith anymore. It was time to change, to see the world with brand new eyes, to have a new perspective.
So there he was, on the edge on regenerating after one last hurrah. He was alone again, but it didn’t matter right now. Being alone was a good thing. He was gonna start it all over again with a new face, new personality, new habits. He was gonna meet new people, see new worlds, rediscover things he had gotten used to, travel through the stars with no real purpose. Oh, those were good projects. He could already feel the excitement running through his veins and mixing itself with the burning regenerative energy that was rewriting his cells and creating a new body. And in the midst of misty mind and numbness of body that were always accompanying the regeneration, he smiled. He could never quite give up on the surprises life could bring him.
There was one thing the Doctor hadn’t seen coming in his plans for the future and he could see it now that he was discovering his newly regenerated body. He ran his long and thin fingers through his mi-long blonde hair, stroked the skin of his face and checked his new outfit. Something sober. His new face would already be a source of lapse in concentration, no need to add more with a fancy outfit. A simple black hoodie, with jeans and a grey coat were just fine to start with. It looked a lot like his past self style. Better start slowly for the first adventures and the first meetings. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Everything was ready. He was ready.
The Doctor had planned it all before his regeneration. Absolutely everything. He just hadn’t seen that times indeed had changed. He hadn’t seen that the future would be female. Things promised to be interesting, because from now on, the Doctor was a woman and she was so ready to conquer space and time.