I remember my last death. Actually, I remember all of them. Each life, each death. I saw the building of Rome and the day it fell. Battles and peace treaties. The very suffering of any friends I made, passing on as I continued to live.
My ninth life I spent fighting in the battles that led to the freedom of America. Planning and fighting and killing until my luck ran out. A few drinks the night before, willing to get through the next day. A bayonet in the back at the battle of Yorktown, left behind by the survivors. Outliving them in the end, new life, new face.
My tenth life took me through the French revolution. The people revolting against the monarchy. Bourgeoise dropping dead anywhere you looked. Luckily I didn't lose my life by the blade of a guillotine. Everyone thought that once the king was gone it would all get better. It didn't. Plague and illness came upon the country. Thus my eleventh life began.
My eleventh life was the most eventful. Almost dull until a met a group of friends. Ten people that changed the course of French history. Les Amis de l'ABC. Upon first glance they didn't look like much. A rag-tag set of school boys wanting to change the lives of the oppressed. They became the closest friends I ever had. I knew I wanted to save every one of them. It ended by saving one, so now I am the me from now.
*flashback*
June 5th 1832. The day one person died and another was born.
The barricade had risen. Not that I actually helped build it. It wasn't there, then it was, the red flag of the revolution flying at the top. There wasn't much time for us before the fighting started. Bullets rained and people fell, but our group continued living.
The night fell and we sang. Sang to all those times we shared and the people we'd met. Hoping that come this time tomorrow we would be victorious.
The next morning the fighting started again, and that's when everything changed. I was fighting one member of the National Guard when I caught sight of another pointing his gun directly at our glorious leader. He hadn't noticed me so I took my chance. The golden man couldn't die now. He had to win the revolution. I moved faster than id done before, swinging the barrel of the gun around to my own chest, just as the trigger was pulled.
In every death I had felt pain, whether it be in battle or by disease. But nothing could prepare me for the expressions on my friends faces when they saw me stand up, covered in my own blood, looking perfectly fine. Most just stared, some let out small gasps of shock. Apollo, as I liked to call him tried to get me to sit down. They all stopped with five words.
"Get inside now, it's starting"
None of them knew what I was talking about. Of course they didn't. It's not like they'd seen or
even heard of regeneration before. But that's what was happening right now.
Regeneration is painful in itself. Your entire DNA being rewritten, leaving behind the person you used to be and becoming someone else. Same software, different case. Then it's over, the pain lessens.
I don't know how long I'm there. Standing on the right side of the barricade.
"Legs, arms, fingery things. My voice sounds weird, wait. Long hair. iM a GiRl!"
I'm taking in this odd revelation, then I hear a voice behind me, and a gun being raised to my head. I knew it was Apollo instantly.
"Who are you and what have you done to my R?"
"Hold up. Your R?! I've never been 'your R'. But I'm still me"
Apollo looks completely confused, a natural reaction to the after effects of regeneration.
"I swear to you Apollo. It is me."
"Prove it."
"What?"
"Prove to me that you are you. Tell me something only my R would know"
"I...right. Last night, you weren't worried about the National Guard, you weren't worried about dying. You were worried about failing our friends, letting them down when they've helped you throughout the entire thing"
Then he's hugging me. Crying into my hair. Curse getting shorter. Seeing him vulnerable made me realise something. I had to end it. I had to save them all.
Stepping back from the hug, I turn my eyes to the haphazard pile of furniture separating us and our oppressors. Making my way towards the small opening in the barricade, I try to ignore the pleads of my friends.
Once I reached the other side, I was faced with the National Guard. Near to twenty guns all pointed at me. Triggers pulled, my body riddled with bullet holes. Pained cries from the other side of the barricade. Turning to smile at them, I gave a silent command to hide. My body was under strain, willing itself not to release regeneration energy whilst Apollo could still be hurt.
Energy burst from me. Bright light engulfing the soldiers closest to me. The light faded, those that were hit had vaporised, the rest fled. We had been the final barricade and we'd won. I let the heavy feeling take over me and I fainted.
When I came to, the first thing I registered was the fact I was lying in a warm bed. Someone must have moved me from the barricade and given up their place of rest for me. I didn't have to wait long to find out who it was. Apollo.
"R. You're awake. Don't scare me like that again"
Internally I'm laughing. He was scared for me?
"I'm sorry if I spooked you Apollo"
Then he's laughing, and it sounds beautiful. I made him happy. Something my previous life could never achieve. Almost as soon as he was happy, he was sad.
"I know you are still Grantaire, but do you still love me?"
"Apollo. What sort of question is that? Of course I love you, I never stopped loving you"
And he's kissing me, and it's like I'm in heaven. The golden god I have loved for so long, curled into my side like a little puppy.
"Tell me about you R. The real you"
"My chosen name is Rene or or Renee now I suppose. I'm around 700 years old although I look about 22. I'm a child of time and I come from a far off planet called Gallifrey."
"Do you miss home?"
"Sometimes"
"Could you take me there?"
"No I can't"
"Why?"
"It was destroyed a long time ago. At the end of a very long war"
"I'm sorry. You must have lost your family"
"Not exactly. One of my very close friends helped me escape"
"Where are they now?"
"Travelling"
"What they called?"
"The Doctor"
"Doctor Who?"
"Just 'The Doctor'"
"So why'd you pick your name?"
"The meaning of my name is 'reborn'. I guess it fits, seen as each time the old me dies a new person is born"
"It's a very pretty name. Suits you"
"You're very pretty Apollo"
"I...thank you? I think you're pretty too"
He kisses me again and I melt, more love than I have ever felt fills me. We fall asleep curled together on his bed, content with what we have and the love we found.
June 5th 1832, upon the barricade. The date and place that one life ended and another began.
A/n: there are a ton of references in here. If you can find them all, very well done you are a great Whovian. Doooweeeoooo mes amis
