* This is going to be a sort of rewrite of Series 2 through at least Series 4. Throughout the story, if anyone has any ideas or constructive criticism, I'm all ears. Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 1 - The Christmas Invasion Part 1

He was the most powerful Time Lord in the universe. He was the only Time Lord in the universe.

Also, given that he was the only one with a TARDIS, the only one able to see timelines, the only one with a plan most of the time, wouldn't that also make him the most powerful being in existence? Nothing in this universe or any other should have the ability to bring him to his knees.

Except passing out after a regeneration.

To be fair, he was doing quite well, despite having taken in the heart of the TARDIS to save his companion. Exhaustion was to be expected, if, of course, just a bit humbling. He despised feeling helpless as his unconscious form was hauled to Jackie's flat, but he convinced himself for the moment to temper this seemingly new kind of ego. The Daleks had been defeated once more, and while that was a huge victory in and of itself, nothing compared to knowing that she was safe.

His brave, beautiful, jeopardy-friendly, pink and yellow human wasn't just safe; she saved the entirety of the universe. All he did was save her.

Not only was she alive, but she seemed to genuinely be okay, too.

Even in a deep sleep, he still had some awareness, able to pick out certain voices around him. He shouldn't be able to hear anything at all with how knackered he was, but he chalked that up to a combination of the overall mysteriousness of regeneration and, of course, superior Time Lord biology. However, it was odd that out of all the talking, confusion, and doting that was happening around him, only one voice was actually clear compared to everything else.

He could hear Jackie and the idiot boyfriend fairly well, but it depended on how close they were to his bedside and even then they sounded pretty muffled. He couldn't always quite hear them, but he could make inferences through his companion's side of the conversations. Her voice was startlingly clear. In fact, it seemed that no matter where she was in the flat, he could always hear her. Which made things very easy, for her voice was the only one he cared to seek out.

Aside from her voice being heavy with confusion, she sounded no worse for wear. He never doubted his ability to take the heart from her, but he was still incredibly relieved that she didn't seem like she was suffering from any kind of side-effect. Not that there should be, but she did harness all of time and space briefly...he would have to run some tests later on both of them to be sure-

He writhed on the bed for only a second before he felt regeneration energy pass from his lips. She was somewhere on the bed with him, using what felt like a stethoscope to check his hearts. She was looking after him. At this, he felt warmth spread all through him. Suddenly, she moved off the bed and the flat fell into a peaceful silence. It was the first bout of silence he'd had since regenerating into this form. It was downright unnerving not being able to hear her, though he knew she was safe.

His subconscious was clinging to her presence when he should be resting. He wasn't going to wake up otherwise. So, reluctantly, with the self-reassurance that she was somewhere near, he allowed himself to completely nod off.

He still had his eyes closed, but he was wrenched from a dreamless sleep. The flat sounded like it was whirring madly. Screams and chaos, destruction this way and that. He tensed. One of the cries belonged to his companion, and he was laying there like a useless lump! The door to the bedroom swung open, then slammed close. Everyone was in the room with him now, a panicked energy coming from all sides.

He heard glass, plaster, and then wood being obliterated, and the screams of Jackie and Mickey stabbed at his ear drums. Something was attacking them and it was coming closer and closer. His hearts were frantic. Where was she? Why couldn't he hear her anymore?

As if in response, he felt her hand curled around his own for the briefest of moments and he was instantly relieved. Then, her fingers were replaced by a familiar metallic device, and her hand left him altogether. This jarred him, so much so that any muffled sounds were starting to become clearer, the darkness of his unconsciousness brightened, and other senses began returning to him. He was waking up.

"Help me." Her words were barely above a whisper, but the fear behind them rang loud and clear.

He clenched the sonic screwdriver in an iron grip and bolted upright, aiming at…a homicidal Christmas tree. Well…they've seen weirder. Without hesitation, he set the sonic to a dismantling setting, and the tree immediately short circuited and fell apart. He didn't budge from his position, even though his companion sighed with relief from behind him. He refused to move away from her until their assailant had completely ceased movement.

Once it had stopped, he sprung from the bed ready to investigate, to figure out who was controlling the tree. He found Roboforms dressed as Santas…Still not the wierdest. He raised the sonic at them, daring them to make another move. He was more than ready to protect her – er, them. He only relaxed when the Roboforms teleported away, but to where?

He didn't have much time to relax as more regeneration energy tore from his mouth. He collapsed on the balcony, his entire being feeling like it was being ripped and crushed and burned all at the same time. He had awakened to soon, and now he was in a coma.

At first, he thought she had given up on him. She pretty much dumped him onto the TARDIS grating and left him there. However, as he fought the Sycorax leader, he stole a glance at her almost every chance he could, not only to keep her in his line of vision should this fight go wrong, but also silently asking her what she was thinking. And when she passed him another sword and smiled brightly at him, that's when it occurred to him.

She hadn't given up on him, that is, the previous him, but she had given up on this him. That thought really shouldn't have been in any way positive, but he really should've told her about regeneration. She had no idea who he now was. He had no idea who he now was. It only made sense that she was skeptical and didn't quite have a connection with him. Yet, he most certainly still had a connection with her. In fact, it was quite a strong one, too. He even tried to coax her into some light bantering after he won the swordfight.

When they touched back down to Earth, after he tersely dealt with the Prime Minister, Jackie had invited everyone to Christmas dinner. As upsetting as the destruction of the Sycorax ship was, they all still agreed that some sort of celebration was in order after the world had been saved yet again. He definitely noticed how Jackie was looking at everyone more than him when she made the invite. It was the assumption that he wasn't going to do anything so domestic.

They all walked back to the Powell Estate to prepare dinner. Everyone except him passed by the TARDIS. His smile was fond, but he still scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He opened a blue door. Even if he wasn't invited, he still needed to get out of the jimjams.

"Aren't you staying?" The voice, the one that he found he was unable to ignore, stopped him completely. He poked his head out from the doorway to look at her. She stood a couple feet from him, her lower lip bitten between her teeth, eyes full of uncertainty.

He swallowed, at a loss for words. "Well, it's just…well, I didn't think your mum…" He paused. "It is her home, after all."

She blinked. "She invited you, didn't you hear?" He shrugged. She crossed her arms loosely. "Well, you can come, if you like. I know it's not something you normally do-"

"Do you want me to come?"

She gave an amused half-smile. "Course I do, that's why I'm asking."

"Right." Why wasn't he able to find the appropriate words? He had one hell of a gob less than an hour ago. He shook his head. "I just have to pop off to the wardrobe room." He glanced down at his attire. "I'm guessing Howard'll want these back."

She giggled. "You know, I thought the same thing at some point, but then mum told me with everything that's happened today you probably ought to keep 'em." Her gaze swept over him, and he couldn't help the foreign feeling of self-consciousness. "You don't think it suits you," she asked with another cheekier giggle.

He scoffed with a light grin. "Oh yes, Daleks and Slitheens will certainly be running scared when they see me wearing this."

She too gave a grin. "Maybe not, then. Anyway, see you at dinner!" And she sauntered away, not seeing the widening smile on his face.

With one more look in her direction, he closed the door and sprinted to the wardrobe room with newfound elation.

He opened the door to Jackie's flat and peered inside before stepping in. When her eyes landed on him, on his pinstripes and long coat, she couldn't help the wide welcoming grin that spread across her features. To him, her happiness was absolutely infectious and his own smile threatened to split his face.

He only took a couple more steps forward before Jackie's delighted squeal pierced his skull and he was being pulled into a crushing hug. He pretended to be offended and made a false grimace, which Jackie instantly saw through and when she called him out on it he simply grinned good-naturedly and joined everyone at the table.

They passed plates of food around, shared holiday stories from times long past, played with Christmas crackers, and, oh yes, his cheerfulness was most certainly genuine to the point where he felt it practically radiating from himself.

They paused with the Christmas crackers and resumed eating. Every now and again, his palm felt a bit scratchy. After checking his hand and finding nothing, he shrugged and switched the fork to his other hand. Maybe this regeneration was telling him he was a lefty now. However, the sensation didn't go away. He once again inspected his hand, front and back, between the fingers. His right hand did have to regenerate again after it'd been cut off. Had something gone wrong?

"Did one of the crackers get you?"

He snapped his attention to her. "Eh?"

She lifted her right hand to reveal a tiny paper cut on her palm. "Did you get a paper cut, too?"

He swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. "No." She asked him what he was doing, then. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "New hand and all that, you know? Lovely new hand," he said hoarsely, plastering on a playful grin and wiggling his fingers.

She chuckled bemusedly at his antics. Shaking her head, she stood up to help her mum with some dishes. Before she left for the kitchen, he was about to ask if he should help, but when she stepped closer to him to take his plate, they made eye contact for a short second and suddenly he couldn't speak at all anymore. She didn't seem to notice his state of shock as she casually collected the dishes and took them to the kitchen.

Images of gold particles pouring from once-hazel eyes flashed heavily in his mind, the very energy of all of time and space threatening to burn her, take her away from him. There was no hesitation in him, not a care that he would regenerate.

She wanted to keep him safe, her Doctor. Just as intensely, he wanted keep her safe, his Rose. So powerful was his desire to keep her safe that he hadn't really had time to stop and think on the stranger points of this day. Like how he was always aware of her presence, or how she was able to awake him from a deep sleep with only two words.

The Doctor buried his face in his hands and audibly groaned. The groan wasn't out of anger or frustration, but out of sheer shock and uncertainty.

Rassilon help him, he had imprinted on Rose Tyler.