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Authors Note: This is my first Doctor Who fanfic, my first fanfic to ever share with anyone outside of my close friends, and my first story of any kind to have gotten very much done with, outside of my head.

This is more of a prolougue than a real chapter. And I don't have a beta-reader or an editor, so constructive criticism would be much appreicated.
I really don't know what to think of my own writing...

Oh! And it might be a little confusing, but I'd prefer to explain after its been read. Want to see if my idea has any good shock value!


-Credibility; Prolougue-


The Doctor opened his eyes, and felt a familiar buzz of excess energy running through his body. He found himself lying on the floor of the Tardis, limbs sprawled out, and his, now oddly ill fitting, clothes in disarray.

Actually, his clothing was more than in disarray. Ripped in places, and with a very strong burnt smell coming from them, they looked like they’d been dragged through hell. It was obvious his last regeneration was complete, and it looked like he’d have to change his outfit again, and not just because they’d been completely destroyed.

He now found himself with quite a lot of extra room in his trousers, his jacket was sliding off his shoulders, and his trainers had fallen off completely.

“Well,” he said to himself, trying to find the silver lining, “this is definitely something new.”

He sat up, needing to get a better look at his new, drastic form. It was still hard to tell from a sitting position, but it looked like he’d lost nearly two feet. He was noticeably disappointed.

“This can’t be all bad.” He reassured himself, and then he smirked. “Maybe I’ll finally get to be ginger!”

As if on cue, a springy blond curl fell just into his line of vision. “Figures as much…”

The new Doctor pulled himself up off the floor, in a very wobbly fashion though, it must be said. And, unfortunately, he seemed just as short this way as when he was on the floor. But this was no time to be feeling sorry for himself! This was a new form! A new chapter! New opportunity! He couldn’t let vanity ruin this moment.

And with that little burst of optimism, he went in search of the only two things he could think of as a priority at that moment. Some new clothes and a mirror.

Uncharacteristically, he managed to find a mirror first. A little handheld one that, for once, he couldn’t remember where he’d gotten, oh well, this wasn’t the first time he’d had memory trouble after regenerating.

Speaking of memory trouble, there was something that had been gnawing at the back of his mind since he’d woken up. He couldn’t remember how his last “death” had occurred, not even a build up to anything potentially dangerous. He could remember what had happened to his last companion, he could remember things that had happened within the short period of time he’d spent by himself (which was pretty impressive, seeing as his entire physiology had just gone through a complete overhaul.). But after that was a total blank. The last memory he could pull up was completely peaceful, even downright boring. But…

He had had problems like this before, and they’d all worked themselves out eventually. Although, to be honest, some messier than others. Probably all he could do was wait this one out as well, and hope it wasn’t a bigger problem than it seemed.

He shook himself, and turned his attention back to the mirror. The face that looked back at him certainly wasn’t ugly; in fact it was kind of cute. It started with the mop of blonde curls that he’d discovered earlier, they somehow managed to hang just in front of his eyes without blocking his vision, those eyes where the grayest blue he’d ever seen. The nose was small and sharp, and so was the mouth, all in all definitely one of his nicer faces. But something was off, something was definitely off.

Something about this face and he knew what it was too. He knew it, he was positive he knew it; he just couldn’t figure out what it was he knew.

Then it hit him, it was young. This face was very, very young.

“What!” He squeaked. And that was just a whole new blow, his voice, though with the same familiar accent it had carried through everyone of his past incarnations, had become noticeably higher than when he’d been talking to himself on the floor, only moments ago.

He looked down at his, now nearly bare, new shape. Smooth, hairless, and slim, but with almost no muscle definition what so ever.

His head was spinning and he grabbed hold of the TARDIS’ consol to steady himself.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” And every word coming out of his mouth, in that high, unfamiliar voice, was another chip off his sanity.

He looked back into the mirror, now in a state of shock. If he was right, and it wasn't just another new issue with his uncooperative cranium, his body now closely resembled that of a pre-adolescent boy!


_

How was that? Awfull? I feel like it went very fast.

Thank you! I'm glad you like it!

As for spoilers, I don't really have any... sweatdrop
I have a vague idea of how the big picture is going to work out, but not in anyway I think I could effectively communicate to anyone who doesn't live inside my head.

I do have alot of little things worked out though. And I'm trying to write it so it resembles the flow of the TV show, so alot of its going to be a bunch of smaller episodic stories, leading up to the end when (hopefully) everything will be explained.

Hope that doesn't turn you off the story... sweatdrop

But I do know exactly whats going on directly after this, so hopefully it won't take forever to write. I'll work on it!

Yay hugs! *hugs*

And that would be great, if you'd like to help! I'm glad you still think this is a good idea! heart

But really, the first? I guess nobodies really all that anxious to replace #10, I wouldn't blame them hes fun. 3nodding

Ten is also easier to write for, as his character is pretty well defined by now. 3nodding

Yes, totally still a good idea. heart

Here, once its written. sweatdrop

heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart

Could you post the first half up and then do a break line and add more after you get done? razz

Or would that mess up with suspense or something?

Ok, I'm really not happy that this is all I got done... gonk But I just couldn't go without posting more after how long its already taken.
This thread has over a dozen posts and only a prologue, sadly, I think most of those posts are mine... redface

Oh well, short and not much happens yet, but I hope you like it.

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Various clothing items had managed to find themselves in almost every crack and crevice of the TARDIS, and it was still growing worse, the Doctor flinging one thing after another out into the open.

Wriggling his way into yet another pair of mid-20th century to early-21st century (earth) style pants, he found himself, once again, sorely disappointed. Exhausted and on the verge of pessimism, he flopped back onto the floor.

“Closer,” he mumbled at the ceiling. “To think, of all the things I’ve picked up along the way, I don’t have even one set of clothes that would fit a child.”

Although he couldn’t even fathom when he would have gotten the opportunity, or the whim, to pick up something like that. It was still turning out to be a rather large inconvenience, one he most definitely couldn’t just ignore. He could admit to being guilty of a wide array of quirks and eccentricities over the years (as non-linear as they may be), but public nudity was one he couldn’t see himself picking up… Not where it was still considered illegal, at least.

The Time Lord gave the small pile of usable clothes a quick once over before coming to a decision. Rolling up the pair of blue jeans he currently had on was about the best option he had, they fit around the waist which was, apparently, all he could ask for in this situation.

He added a t-shirt with thick horizontal red and black stripes, and a denim jacket, that was just different enough from his jeans, in shade and style, to be a horrendous eye-sore. That only left one thing…

He looked down at his bare toes, wriggling up at him. He could just imagine them saying, “Why Doctor? Why have you left us out here in the cold?” And hallucinations of talking toes was the last thing he needed right now.

“Not my fault.” He muttered, to his poor naked toes. “Okay, it’s a little my fault.”

There was no other option. The Doctor needed shoes and he wasn’t finding them in here.

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September 27th 2009, on the American east coast, and The Doctor wandering barefoot through a strip mall in the body of a child no taller than 4’8” at best.

It was with very little of his usual confidence that he pushed through the doors of the closest shoe store he’d found. The young woman behind the counter of the small shop looked like she was about to remind him of the “no shoes, no shirt, no service” policy, but then thought better of it. She probably thought the poor boy was homeless, he looked it.

The fingerless wool gloves he’d slipped on at the last moment probably had a lot to do with that, he just hadn’t been able to get over the feeling his outfit was missing something (other than shoes). Oddly the gloves had been the only thing he’d latched on to. Apparently he’d passed his peak for eccentric dress a few re-generations ago.

But that pitying look would just have to go ignored, he was on a mission.

Wandering to the back corner, the diminutive Time Lord began his search. And, in an action that would have surprised many of those who knew him and was a bit of a shock to him as well, he completely bypassed dozens of Trainers and Dress Shoes, and set his sights on a sturdy pair of black Hiking Boots.

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There is more to come! I promise! Lots and lots, and it might actually make sense(I hope)!