(A/N: Because I started writing fan fiction with a Twelfth Doctor post in the early days of this blog, I thought it fitting with his departure approaching to write him a pre-regeneration scene.)
Everything felt so clean.
He knew that in fact, it was the regeneration healing and cleaning him, burning off any dirt and grime that may have been on him. He knew that soon, the tingles running down his spine would begin to sting. The regeneration energy pumping through his veins would begin to trickle down his skin until it all finally burst in a golden flash. It would radiate off of him and in one golden moment, he would be wiped away.
But until that moment came… The Doctor intended to enjoy his last few moments with this face.
His hands gently rested on the electric black guitar. Plugging in the amp, he began to play through one last time. As the guitar wailed out “Amazing Grace” and Beethoven’s Fifth rang out through the TARDIS, the Doctor smiled at times long past- at the thrills of running and falling out of airplanes and pudding brains. He remembered.
Run, you clever boy, and remember.
He finally settled on strumming out a sad song. He managed to strum out a minute’s worth before her laugh threatened to ring out through his brain and he had to just stop.
The neural block whined and moaned at him, distracting him, but almost seeming to ask, “How much longer will you try to remember her? How long will you gaze into the empty abyss feeling a loss that isn’t really there?”
Not much longer, it would seem.
Forgetting her had been like regenerating. She had disappeared in a flash of light, taking a piece of him with her. And now here he was, facing down the real deal.
He was done fighting. He had no more azbantium walls to punch, no more Clara to save, no more song left to sing.
He was ready to go.
And the new man was ready to carry on.
“Everything ends, and it’s always sad. But everything begins again too, and that’s always happy. Be happy.”