16th Doctor's Adventures

Introduction

Regenerations could never be forgotten. There was no greater exhilaration to be had by a Time Lord, or any living being for that matter, than a Regeneration. Transcending mortal bounds; they became a rushing kaleidoscope of starlight. A supernova made-flesh. A living affront to the laws of the cosmos. As the jets of glittering golden light died down, time slowed to a crawl along with it. The sparks that now danced around the TARDIS looked oddly soothing, like gliding silver comets. With every heartbeat that reverberated inside her chest, her senses began to sharpen and focus. Awareness came flooding in. Her beloved time machine was burning. It was worrying, of course, but manageable. For now, the Doctor had different priorities.

"Still not ginger," she chuckled weakly, tugging down a lock of hair. "Goodness gracious, my elbows are sharp. Whose idea was that?" Her voice was crisp, warm and gentle, like anything above a whisper would shatter it.

Sparks flew further up, the bullying heat was starting to smother her. The Doctor clicked her fingers, trying to coax out a memory. "It's got a name, hasn't it? One syllable. Mostly orange...Fire! That's it. We're on fire." With that, she casually sauntered around the blaze and toward a compartment in the walls. Behind a hexagonal tile was a modern-day fire extinguisher. A few whooshes of pale foam later, and the fire was soundly dealt with. "There we are." she concluded.

Then a thought entered her head. "I could use a sit-down. A deck chair would be splendid," she announced, hastily pulling one out from another compartment in the TARDIS wall. "A bit of furniture named after where it belongs. If everything was named like that, you'd never lose it." She allowed herself a sentimental smile. "I'd be called the Friend Doctor, then."

Before she could set up the quaint human contraption, something occurred to her. For the first time in a long time, she really had time to think. Oftentimes, Regenerations were a chaotic rush of babbling, burning and a crashing time machine. Now there was nothing, just the familiar hum of the core and the occasional beep of esoteric gadgetry.

With the deck chair was still unfolded in her hand, she leaned against it like a crutch and caught her reflection in the glass of a TARDIS console. Age and sadness haunted her eyes; two tired orbs of pale blue. The horrors and wonders they had seen were uncountable. The weight of eternity was beginning to suffocate her. As thoughts were given time to fully form, she felt a great melancholy heaped on her shoulders and the Doctor let out a laboured sigh without even meaning to.

"It's strange...I feel faint. like the echo of a sound I can't remember...the last after-images of a star that's long gone." The words resounded off the cavernous interior of her beloved time machine. "I'm not sure how much of a Doctor I can be anymore..."

A thunderous crash shook her into focus. Sparks reignited all across the TARDIS. Shrill sirens erupted from the central console. Hairline fractures spread across the walls like a spider's web. Panic, however, was the last thing she felt. In fact, she laughed. "I thought I fixed you, young lady!  Of course not, the universe has to change its mind," she smiled. The Doctor put down her beloved deck chair and stood upright In the clothes of a stranger, gazing up at the hectic mesh of noises and lights. She puffed out her chest and lifted her head with a steely glare. Ready and content. 

"Come on then, universe; have at thee."