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He can feel it. The vibrations coursing through his body. Cells dying, changing, new ones forming. He'll be dead soon, he knows that. Oh, he'll live on. The Doctor won't quite leave the universe to it's own devices just yet. But this him, the Raggedy Man and the Chin Boy. That man will be dead. Regeneration has always been painful, how could it not? His body was rewriting itself, morphing in to a new face, a new person. It was always going to hurt. He just didn't remember it hurting this bad.
It worries him. In the midst of pain and the haze of golden light, he worries. Is this his last turn? Will his last breath be, quite actually, his last? So much had happened since this face began. He'd died already. Did that not have an effect?
His jaw tightens as he resists the urge to cry out, his hands curling in to fists at his side as he archs his back and throws his head down to the ground. Clara stands in the corner, her own back pressed to the TARDIS' walls as the old girl hums in mourning. Her thief is in pain. He always is. And there is rarely, if ever, anything she can do to ease it. To help him.
She cries alongside The Doctor, her mournful song echoing through all of time and space. Everyone can feel it, that tingle down their spine. The Doctor is dying.
Again.
He's so close to his end that the TARDIS doesn't want to let him leave. She doesn't want a new thief, a new man pushing her buttons and piloting her wrong. A new face means he's getting older. Older and closer, and then what will she do? She hums softly, vibrating beneath him as she tries so desperately to keep him together, whole. He cries out, turning over to claw at the ground as slowly, the energy rips from his body, and he screams. Clara closes her eyes, turning away and facing the wall. She can't watch this. She's seen so many, witnessed every single one of his regenerations. Of his 'deaths'. But this time it's different. It's harder.
He reaches out, desperate for some form of comfort as he whispers the word quietly, eyes losing focus as his hand beging to tremble.
"Please."
His eyes close as the regeneration continues. He's fighting it, oh, is he fighting it. He thought he hadn't wanted to go before. Now he's determined not to. As he reaches outward, Clara shaking her head as she chews on her lower lip, still facing the wall, fingers ghost over the back of his hand. He looks up, eyes dark and glistening with tears as River crouches beside him. She doesn't say anything, simply moves to sit beside him as he finally, finally, lets go.
She's clutching his hand tightly as it changes between her palms. It's so, odd. Strange. But she won't leave. Not until he's finished. Until he doesn't need her anymore. She looks up, meeting Clara's eyes as she sniffles and shakes slightly. They've been through so much today, and now this. Reaching out as the light begins to fade, and The Doctor's gasps turn deeper, his groans come out gruffer than normal, she holds her free hand up and nods. Clara bites her lip, stepping forward tentatively as she slowly lifts her arm, her palm meeting River's and she lowers herself to the ground beside the Doctor.
He's breathing heavily, his eyes open and while they're a different colour, they're still his. Still old and burdened, tired but - there's something there. A flicker of light. She smiles softly, still mourning Chin Boy as she greets Pinnochio. Tapping his new nose lightly, he slowly smiles, albeit a small one. He turns his head to River as she tilts her own. He can see the sadness in her eyes, the slight pressure on his hand as she slowly lets go. He knows, somehow, that he won't see her again. Not for a long while. Until she herself has processed the change and can muster what she can to venture from The Library again. He nods, letting her know that it's okay. He understands. She smiles, and it's as she stands that the words tumble from her lips.
"Hello, Sweetie."