Chapter Nineteen, Part Three: Black Pudding the YoungerMature

“Why are you wearing a blue bathrobe anyway? Did you kill Rassilon in it? Well, I hate to break it to you Sunshine, but he’s not dead. Are you going to say something else, or has the metre expired?” 

His face grows longer, angled; his green-black eyes sparkle blue. His skin turns bright and warm, his structure melting into that of the immortal First Lord President of Gallifrey- Rassilon of Prydon. 

But the Doctor is staring at the yellow smudge.  

Stumbling back a half step, he clings to the statue of Rose’s elbow and lowers his head, his searching brows crossing in adamant denial, as is their usual habit. But he... can’t... surely he didn’t... did he... 

Did he? 

Did he? 

... did he? 





But then, who is... that... standing there...

Didn’t he?

The End

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