InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "<3"

The Eleventh Doctor thinks bow ties are cool. (the11thhour) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2011-07-24 17:27:00

Entry tags:

the doctor (10), the doctor (11)

WHO: Doctor²
WHAT: Technically, it's Ten getting medical attention, but you can't really stick two Doctor's into one TARDIS without crazy ensuing. It's impossible.
WHEN: Late afternoon.
WHERE: The TARDIS.
RATING: PG for now.

Tweed jacket tossed over one of the railings off to his right, the Doctor tugged at the leather braces running over his shoulders, the sharp snap of them being pulled upward and released twinging lightly against his skin. Distractedly, the oldest of the youngest (physically, at least) of his regenerations twisted a knob at the central console of the TARDIS, not particularly directing the TARDIS in any which location, but doing so out of the need to be doing something with himself. Why? The Doctor was all out of sorts, that was why. Another him had been tossed into the woodwork, hailed straight on into Lawrence from a time so recent that the Doctor could still practically taste the radiation poisoning that had done him in. Those final moments of his tenth regeneration had been dark. Angry. Filled with more sadness than he could bear, because he hadn't been ready. Not him. Not ready to change, not ready to go. To move on and become another, with different thoughts and feelings and perspectives on all things, ranging from the ones that mattered the most to which option was most sensible for supper (fish sticks and custard, without a single doubt).

The man that he had invited into his TARDIS - their TARDIS, if he was really going to be fair, which he (in that moment) honestly did not want to be, because he already had enough trouble trying to fight River off when it came to being in charge of his own ship - was not going to be terribly pleasant. His former self had his moments (many of which were absolutely brilliant), sure enough, but as of now, coming out from all of that, the Doctor didn't much expect for the past to greet him with open arms and a wide grin on his face.

Not that, generally, he would have wanted to hug any of his older selves anyway.

Nonetheless, the tenth of the Doctor's was currently venturing his way over to the blue police box, which had been carefully placed just off the end of a sidewalk a few blocks from the local park. Knowing himself - which he did - the directions that the Doctor had given the other Doctor would have been more than enough for him to manage finding the TARDIS, so the Doctor found that all he could do now, besides fidget and worry, was wait.

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dominustemporis
2011-08-08 04:10 am UTC (link)

If there were one thing the Doctor understood without question in this new world, it was how justified Rose was in her anger at him. He'd been a high-handed old fool again, leaving her behind. He should have waited. At the very least, he should have said goodbye. She had deserved some sort of closure. Still, he wasn't certain he could have managed a life with her and his other self in the TARDIS. It was bad enough, watching the woman he loved grow old while he continued on, ageless by comparison to a human's lifespan. How much worse would it have been to watch his other self fade, as humans did? What else could he have done? He didn't know, and it didn't matter, not anymore.

Rose, brilliant, wonderful Rose, had given him more than he deserved by allowing him back into her life. He wondered if he were taking advantage of her kindness by accepting that invitation. Would it do more harm than good to attempt to reconcile all that had come between them? He didn't know, couldn't see that clearly when his own personal timeline was involved.

"She's not the one who needs to come around," he found himself saying. "It's me. I'm the one who made the mistakes. I'm the one who needs to make amends."

When his other self stepped forward to help him with the equipment, the Doctor silently stepped back, sore arm cradled close against his side. "Do I really have a choice?" he said, flashing a tired smile at his counterpart and the offer of assistance. "Another second or two in that booth and I'd have shown up here already regenerating. Isn't that so?" He cast a glance at the readouts and shook his head. Everything had happened so quickly after he'd opened the door to the chamber. He'd done his best to simply do, not to think. No chance for regrets, that way, and no chance to yet again take the coward's way out. For a moment, he felt sympathy for his older self. What he must have gone through, before he changed. The Doctor was sick at the thought of it.

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