6 – The Last Goodbyes

In the moment it took the angel to speak, the Doctor felt all the pain that was being kept from him. He turned out of Wilf’s embrace and headed toward the TARDIS.

“Come, come, Wilf!” he said, trying to put on a positive façade for the old man, “Let’s go see how the world fared this time!

He landed the TARDIS outside the Noble home.  Sylvia was standing at the door as they left the TARDIS.

“Oh, she’s smiling,” the Doctor said seriously. Sylvia smiling was rare and frightening, “As if today wasn’t bad enough…Anyway…don’t go thinking this is goodbye, Wilf,” he said, his eyes shifting around the neighborhood, “I’ll see you again…one more time.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, “When’s that?”

“Just keep looking,” the Doctor responded, “I’ll be there.”

“Where are you going?” Wilfred asked.

“To get my reward,” he replied sadly, his eyes filling with tears again. He stepped into the TARDIS and took off before Wilfred could see the sorrow in his eyes.

He saved Martha and her new husband, the idiot Mickey from the Sontaran. Pulling Luke out of the path of an oncoming car, he saved her son for Sarah. He set Jack up with Alonso. He met up with Joan’s beautiful great-granddaughter and spoke with her. At Donna’s wedding, he left her a gift. He even got to see Rose before he’d ever really met her. He got his goodbyes, his reward.

But he knew time was up. He knew that Metatron, his new hitchhiker, couldn’t handle much more of the pain he was holding back. 

“Let go, friend,” he said quietly, “I know it’s time and you are tired.”

“Yes,” Metatron sighed.

The pain became overwhelming. He could barely walk. Putting one foot in front of the other, he stumbled toward the TARDIS.  He fell in the snow in the middle of the road.

“Do you want to remember, Doctor?” Metatron asked, his voice stronger, “Do you need to keep them in your hearts? Or shall I wipe that memory, those memories? A fresh start? I will be here. I will be your companion in this. But I can take away those memories of hurt and longing.”

“If I come back, I don’t want to remember them…those I-I’m losing,” he said with a grunt, “but I don’t want to become like the Master.”

“I will not let that happen,” the Archangel said, “I will be your compass until you find a new companion. Once you’ve found the one.”

“And once I have?” the Doctor asked, the pain growing more intense, “What happens to you then?”

“I will always be here, but you will know only when you ask for me…I will hide in the corners of your mind unless you talk directly to me. It is all I ask for…all I wish.”

“But what about the me I am?” the Doctor asked quietly, suppressing the agony of physical pain he was feeling, “The me I’ve become? There’s too much of me to not remember. If I survive this meltdown, I need to remember who I was.”

“Your memories of you…of your previous regenerations will remain, but this one will remain a blur and their faces will not cause you pain.”

“Good, then,” he said, “Let’s get on with it.” 

When the Doctor looked up, Sigma Ood stood in the middle of the street.

“We will sing to you, Doctor,” the Ood said sedately, “The universe will sing you to your sleep.”

He heard the voice of the universe as he stood back up and plodded markedly to the TARDIS.  Gritting his teeth against the pain, he forced his steps closer to the TARDIS.  Sigma finished his farewell, “This song is ending, but the story never ends.”

He closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. Taking off his coat, he flung it onto the support. As he stepped further into the TARDIS, he saw the regeneration energy beginning in his hands. He set the TARDIS in motion, more concerned that he was not in 2005 when he regenerated than anything else.

“I don’t want to go!” he cried, but he knew it was too late.

“I’m sorry, child,” Metatron said, coming back stronger, “I cannot hold any more of this back from you.”

“I know,” the Doctor replied, “It’s time.”

“I’m sorry,” Metatron said sadly, “this is going to hurt.”

As the energy flowed through him, it was different this time. Instead of a gentle warmth that overpowered him and gradually changed his face and body, the energy shot out of his body in a huge beam. The power of that energy poked holes in the TARDIS, causing her to rebel and buck and roil. The pain was overwhelming as his body changed and he screamed at the sheer agony of it until it suddenly stopped.

 
“Legs! I’ve still got legs,” he said, kissing his new knee, “Good…Arms…Hands…Ooo, fingers…Lots of fingers,” he touched his ears, “Ears, yes. Eyes, two,” he touched his nose and measured a remembered distance, “Nose, I’ve had worse.” He touched his chin, “Chin, Blimey! Hair. I’m a girl! No. No. I’m not a girl!”  he pulled his long hair down so he could see, “And still not ginger. And something else…Something important…I’m…I’m…I’m-”

There was a loud crash from deep inside the TARDIS that shook it roughly about.

“Ha! Crashing!” he shouted excitedly.

The Archangel was thrilled at the new ability to be excited about impending doom and danger. He helped the Doctor by throwing his energy into flipping switches and keeping the Doctor with the new face standing upright. The Doctor was just as excited, running about, pulling levers, and peering at the monitor, laughing all the while. He looked up to the top of the TARDIS as the machine plummeted to Earth and yelled,

“Geronimo!!!!”

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