For some reason, the Characters listed None, Donna Noble. There is mention of her, and others, but she doesn't play a role in this story.
Well, here I go again. Instead of finishing up my Metacrisis Victorious chapter, my mind decided to go with this tidbit. I am not one to stick to canon, so this will be a one-shot with the the 14th Doctor. Maybe...most likely....aww, who knows?
Well, wasn't this just wizard!
The Doctor was inspecting himself in the full length mirror in the TARDIS after his most recent regeneration.
He was a man again and it just felt....weird. Hairy manly hands, a five o'clock shadow and thin sideburns. He could feel the slight heaviness of his very manly bits between his legs and he ran a hand over his chest. No more breasts, just a thin chest with tiny nipples supported by broad shoulders.
His clothes had changed with him, which had not happened since his second self. Oddly, the outfit looked similar to what he had worn during his tenth self only....more Bohemian. Not quite as slim cut and actually a bit naff, he reckoned. Plaid! Really?
"Am I Scottish now?" he muttered. No, he had his old Estuary accent, not a brogue.
He examined his face which was now older looking than his younger former self. Wrinkles deeper around his eyes, a bit of a sagging jawline and was that the start of a wattle on his long neck? Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat , it was! If he were human he would guess his age to be in the fifties somewhere. Thank goodness he wasn't human!
The Doctor ran his hands through his thick coif and shuddered. He was bewildered, confused and nothing made much sense at the moment. The great Time Lord brain trapped in his skull was sizzling and popping not unlike pop rocks on the tongue.
Old memories swirled in his mind, thoughts of people that he rarely had thought about anymore. Rose, the Metacrisis version of himself, Donna, Martha, Jackie & Pete Tyler, River. All dead now, he thought sadly. Buried and gone to dust....
Rose!
If she had been with him, she would have known what to say. She would have comforted him in her arms, given him reassurances. She had loved him and he, her.
The Time Lord clutched at his achy head and felt the soothing touch of the TARDIS in his mind. It was a comfort as much as it reminded him that once again he was alone. He didn't want to be alone anymore.
He was too old for the carefree days of seeing the universe by himself. He needed someone in his life now, someone flesh and blood to explore the unknown with. Just one individual...perhaps another human. He loved humans and he loved Earth and he had just regenerated on Earth.
The Doctor looked away from the mirror towards the console of the TARDIS. It looked so familiar and he realized he didn't like it now. The golden, rock like columns arching up from the floor looked like an enormous dead spider lying on its back. Ugh. He hated spiders...especially the ones on Metebelis 3.
What was I thinking? Maybe I should redecorate...
Another sizzle in his brain and he winced, once again overwhelmed. Thoughts, images and feelings swirled in his mind like a violent whirlpool and nothing made sense anymore. He staggered over to the warmth and comfort of the console of his beloved ship.
Gripping the panels with an iron grip, he looked up at the domed ceiling as a tear slipped down his rough cheek. He felt his hearts thundering in his chest and thought he might burst apart at any moment.
"WHO AM I?!" he cried out in anguish.
Once again, the TARDIS reached out to comfort him the best that she could.
Fin
The Doctor was inspecting himself in the full length mirror in the TARDIS after his most recent regeneration.
He was a man again and it just felt....weird. Hairy manly hands, a five o'clock shadow and thin sideburns. He could feel the slight heaviness of his very manly bits between his legs and he ran a hand over his chest. No more breasts, just a thin chest with tiny nipples supported by broad shoulders.
His clothes had changed with him, which had not happened since his second self. Oddly, the outfit looked similar to what he had worn during his tenth self only....more Bohemian. Not quite as slim cut and actually a bit naff, he reckoned. Plaid! Really?
"Am I Scottish now?" he muttered. No, he had his old Estuary accent, not a brogue.
He examined his face which was now older looking than his younger former self. Wrinkles deeper around his eyes, a bit of a sagging jawline and was that the start of a wattle on his long neck? Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat , it was! If he were human he would guess his age to be in the fifties somewhere. Thank goodness he wasn't human!
The Doctor ran his hands through his thick coif and shuddered. He was bewildered, confused and nothing made much sense at the moment. The great Time Lord brain trapped in his skull was sizzling and popping not unlike pop rocks on the tongue.
Old memories swirled in his mind, thoughts of people that he rarely had thought about anymore. Rose, the Metacrisis version of himself, Donna, Martha, Jackie & Pete Tyler, River. All dead now, he thought sadly. Buried and gone to dust....
Rose!
If she had been with him, she would have known what to say. She would have comforted him in her arms, given him reassurances. She had loved him and he, her.
The Time Lord clutched at his achy head and felt the soothing touch of the TARDIS in his mind. It was a comfort as much as it reminded him that once again he was alone. He didn't want to be alone anymore.
He was too old for the carefree days of seeing the universe by himself. He needed someone in his life now, someone flesh and blood to explore the unknown with. Just one individual...perhaps another human. He loved humans and he loved Earth and he had just regenerated on Earth.
The Doctor looked away from the mirror towards the console of the TARDIS. It looked so familiar and he realized he didn't like it now. The golden, rock like columns arching up from the floor looked like an enormous dead spider lying on its back. Ugh. He hated spiders...especially the ones on Metebelis 3.
What was I thinking? Maybe I should redecorate...
Another sizzle in his brain and he winced, once again overwhelmed. Thoughts, images and feelings swirled in his mind like a violent whirlpool and nothing made sense anymore. He staggered over to the warmth and comfort of the console of his beloved ship.
Gripping the panels with an iron grip, he looked up at the domed ceiling as a tear slipped down his rough cheek. He felt his hearts thundering in his chest and thought he might burst apart at any moment.
"WHO AM I?!" he cried out in anguish.
Once again, the TARDIS reached out to comfort him the best that she could.
Fin