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The Doctor is dying. Again.
Story of his life, really.
He sighed and studied the golden light shifting beneath his skin for a moment, mesmerized by the glow. He didn't want to die, to lose this body. He loved this body, he loved the way he felt in it, the way it could dance, the way it could run. But sometimes things demand change.
And Poppy is worth it. He thought of her smile, and he knew that she was worth it. Wilf was worth it, too. The townspeople on Trenzalore were worth it. The people on that spaceship falling into the black hole were worth it.
That's the deal. He's the Doctor, and he dies to save people. Because, as he'd told the god of death himself: he represents life.
He just wished he could have done more with this face. But he always thinks that, all fifteen or seventeen or two dozen or however many millions of times he's regenerated at this point.
He thought of Belinda, holding Poppy in the garden. He thought of Ruby, helping her mum take care of little Joseph.
He thought of Rogue, who he'd failed to save. At least so far. He'd have to keep trying, with his next face. Hopefully Rogue won't mind the change— but he's getting ahead of himself.
And as he stared out at the beautiful star that shone from his friend Joy, he thought of everyone else, too. He thought of Yaz and River and Sasha 55 and Jack and everyone else he'd ever loved, everyone else who had carved their permanent place into his hearts.
Most of all, he kept thinking about Rose. He tried not to think about her too much, these days, but he always wonders how she's doing in her parallel world. It was hard not to, seeing the face that loved her so dearly again.
He leaned out of the TARDIS and let the regeneration energy flow out, to start burning his cells and replacing them with new ones. Who knows, maybe he'd get to see this face again someday like he'd been able to with his last body. He'd like that.
He wondered if he'd ever have the courage to visit Ruby and Belinda next time.
He breathed out, and he thought of Rose.
He does wish that he could see her. Just one more time, maybe.
The monkey's paw curled.