Written and published before the 50th Anniversary Movie, and before the Christmas special, and that other episode that was mentioned.

It is mostly canon, but it's me imagining Clara wasn't there for Eleven's regeneration. I'll have this story as canon as possible, meaning in my storyline, Clara will still have adventures with Twelve, as I know Jenna-Louise Coleman has signed up for the first season of Doctor Who without our dear Matt.

Please keep these things in consideration.

Disclaimer: Has Captain Jack met River Song? Did Donna Noble travel with Nine? No? Then I don't own Doctor Who.

Summary: Eleven is regenerating. The TARDIS knows just what he needs, and takes him to see his reward before Eleven dies.


The Doctor dropped Clara off at her home as soon as the adventure came to an end. He knew that she had seen something different in him – something wrong, and something ill.

He didn't want to tell her he was dying. She'd feel bad, blaming herself, especially as she knew herself as the girl who saves the Doctor.

Actually, it was not her fault. He allowed her to do it. But that was because it was the only way. She didn't know the power of what that terrible machine would do, but it was definitely fatal. He had lied to her, assuring her that he had a plan, everything would be okay, and to just do it.

The injections went straight to his heart. The Daleks around him had laughed, actually laughed.

"No, I have a plan. I can save myself."

Clara didn't know rule number one: the Doctor lies.

The killing was slow, and it was still happening.

The pain was a somnambulant of the nightmarish adventure. And he tried not to think about it (and thus it will not be written about).

If the new him was anything worth anything, he would come back and take Clara on more adventures. But right now, he couldn't have Clara on his back. She didn't need to know. No, she really didn't.

Dear Clara, he thought as he flew through space in the TARDIS. What a peculiar way of seeing the world she had. "It's smaller on the outside." He chuckled at the memory.

All his companions were precious in their own ways. Dear Donna, Martha, Amy and Rory, and Rose.

Rose. Never a day went by without his thinking of her. Clever, clever Rose. What a compassionate, feminine heart. Gentle and tough at the same time. He could never help but smile when she smiled.

Another spasm of pain hit his left heart. Gritting his teeth, he clutched the console. He tried to ignore it, but each day since the incident and since he dropped off Clara, it only got worse.

He threw himself into his work. Maybe that way he could forget the fact that a new Time Lord would walk in his place very soon. He fixed the chameleon circuit –and regretted it, but luckily he was sure it would break soon anyway. He made a Void Stuff Detector, which he installed onto the console.

He invented a gravity switch, and then threw it to the TARDIS floor, remembering that Louis Pellopter invents it in the year 2069.

Throughout all this he was mad at himself for being so afraid of death and things that grew old. That was the responsibility, the curse, of a Time Lord. It was what he must bear. And that was why only one species had bothered ever to meddle so much with – and be in so much control of – time.

The Doctor grandiosely opened the TARDIS doors. Sitting down, his legs hanging over the edge above God only knows how many kilometers of space, he stared out at the stars and the earth in the distance.

He was wondering what to do next. There were so many people he wanted to see but couldn't before he died. Also, as he contemplated the stars, he thought of the fact that he, in his new body, with his new characteristics and character, but still with his same mind; he would have to look at these stars again. They were beautiful, yes, but it already was "just a backyard", more so because now he was alone. Space, although majestic with its nebulas and cascades as its jewels, had been seen so many times by the same lonely man in all his eons of life. And then it was seen and seen again, and after a while, it becomes something that's just there.

When he could show these wonders to someone, he saw them, too; it was like seeing them for the first time. Not so at the moment.

Again, he had to regenerate alone. Alone, dying, passing away with no one to say goodbye and greet the outcome. But it was better than Clara having to see him now, still sweating from his recent spasm of pain. If the reader had seen their recent adventure, he would understand his impetus and its consequence.

Out of the blue, he heard a noise. It was a noise that he had really not wanted to hear, especially not now. The Void Stuff Detector started bleeping.

"What?! What?! You are never supposed to do that. No, no."

He desperately fiddled with the console, not daring to believe. But it was true.

"No, not the end of the world! Not again!" In a less intense situation, he would have laughed. But not this time. Another void in time and space? Another crack to a different reality? This was bad – this was very, very bad.

No, he could not laugh now. He was furious.

"Why?!" he kicked the console. Were all his sacrifices in vain? He had lost the girl he longed most for because of a void like this that he had sealed up to save the universe. Rose.

It wasn't fair.

The TARDIS suddenly spun out of control. It was getting sucked into the void! That would kill him with no chance of regeneration. He screamed.

The TARDIS doors, still open from his earlier meditation, revealed that the void stuff was not on its own, but woven through the time vortex. The void, which was devouring the time vortex tunnel, caused fierce lightning to strike the TARDIS. It sucked at everything that was loose in the TARDIS.

All the Doctor could do was grip the metal bars around the console, his feet lifted and his body threatening to be pulled towards the void-vortex. Around him, papers flew out, various books, Barbie dolls, his timey-wimey detector: all had been lying about, and all shot out of the hurtling TARDIS. Out went the gravity switch. (It travelled through the vortex until it landed at the feet of said Mr. Louis Pellopter, in 2069.)

And then, with a thud, everything was still.

The TARDIS had landed.

"Impossible," the Doctor said when he realized he was still alive. He felt and examined himself. Yes, all limbs were there, no broken bones, his head seemed to be intact, and his bowtie just needed to be straightened.

"Now, where am I?" he wondered. He tapped some keys on the console and stared at the screen.

"Okay, so not in the void anymore, eh? That's good news. And I'm on…Earth. Back on Earth."

He frowned. "This doesn't add up."

He tapped a few more keys, checked the screen again, and then –

"Oh. Oh."

He raced to the TARDIS doors and flung them open.

"Oh."

He was staring at a world that was known as Earth; that could've been Earth; that practically was Earth – except that it wasn't.

"Impossible," he breathed, "Absolutely incredible."

He had landed in a parallel world, and had done it safely. Although this cued the end of the world, for now he was okay. The TARDIS had landed in an alleyway created by a wall and the back of a small building of some kind, its green paint weathered and faded. He would see what the building was later. It was a cheery afternoon on this parallel earth, and the sky was clear. However, something tugged on his memory. No he hadn't ever seen this place before. Not on The Earth. He tasted the building. It wasn't that either. He then commenced licking his finger and holding it up in the air.

No. It couldn't be.

Sonicking the air, he circled around and raced back to the console. He inputted the results of the sonicking onto the TARDIS, and then did some other spacey-wacey technical stuff. After a bit, his eyes brightened. Immediately he set off for a particular Norway beach of this parallel world.

He ran outside. He sniffed. He rushed back in and landed behind the green building again.

No way.

But it was.

A specific taste, a specific tingle in the air that made this parallel world unique; it made this world special.

"What are the chances?!" he marveled. "What single drop in a billion oceans!"

Hello, Pete's World.