He was old. So very, very old. He had seen so very much, and lost even more. But for all of that, everything seen and lost, gained and destroyed, it was a good life. He had to admit that it was. However, all life must someday come to an end. He knew this better than anyone.

He didn't want to die on a battlefield, he had seen enough of those. No, this time, he wanted to decide how he died. He had never been given the option before. But this time, it would be different. This time he would not be coming back. This time, he would be dead for good.

He closed the door softly behind him. "Well, it's just you and me now, Sexy," he murmured softly. Just him and the ship that had been his most faithful companion throughout all of his travels. But it was not her time to go yet, only his. She could still travel, still see more of the universe. After all, that's why she had stolen him in the first place, right? Steal a Time Lord and see the universe? How could he abandon her now?

But he's not abandoning her. His time is up. That's not the same as abandoning... Is it? When you can no longer stay, you don't need to feel guilty. Or so he tells himself repeatedly. In quiet mutters that she can oh so barely hear. In soft undertones to his whispers to her about how wonderful she has always been to him. How she has always taken him where he needed to be. It's in his apologies for ever yelling at her for not taking him where he wanted to be. She hears his quiet crying sometimes, the muffled gasp of 'I don't want to go', repeated over and over as a mantra. But this time, it's not because he wants to do more. This time it's for her. All for her. She should feel flattered. Or loved. She isn't sure which. But then again, she never was good with those confusing emotions.

Instead, she feels pain. Sadness. Her thief is suffering, and she doesn't know what to do for him. She can't hold him, or touch him, or even talk to him. But she wants so badly to do something for him. Anything to comfort him.

He does not want comfort. He seemingly does not want anything from her. She wonders briefly if he no longer has a use for him. And then she realizes part of him has already died. And that now he needs her more than ever. He is forever and always her thief. She has always been there for him before. She will not fail him now, not when he needs her.

"What do you think, Old Girl, blaze across the planet Midnight or see how Olympus has been doing in the last 1200 years?" He leaned against the console, looking worn and beaten down. She can't stand to see him this defeated. Then she has an idea. One that just might work. It's too crazy to not work.

He suddenly shifted at the control panel and started flipping switches. "Midnight it is!" He said with forced excitement. She let him plot the course; waited silently, patiently. And then, as she had done so often before, took him where he needed to be.

As he stepped out into London's crisp night air, he felt a twitch of irritation at his TARDIS. He had wanted to see something beautiful before he left, not fight another war. He turned and walked a few blocks to a nearby park. Looking up to the sky, he was once again mesmerized by what humanity saw each night, what they were limited to. Everything else they had to imagine. All the planets he had been to an all the things he had seen were just a dream to this short-lived race.

"Oy! Old man!" The shrill voice punctured the otherwise silent air. He turned toward the woman, a sharp retort on his tongue. It never made it out. "Are you lost?" Donna asked as she walked toward him. "You're standing in the middle of the street gawking at the stars. You're worse than Gramps was." She sighed fondly, shaking her head.

He stared at her for a second before blinking. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little confused. Where am I? And what year is it?" He couldn't stay. She could not- no, must not -remember him. But she didn't know him. And he was so very tired. And lonely. Ever since his last companion- No. No he was not going to think about that. And he refused to think about the loneliness. He needed to leave.

"You don't know what year it is? Did you hit your head on a rock or something? It's 2018, in Chiswick." She walked over to a nearby park bench and sat down. "Get over here and sit down before you fall over." He smiled softly at the order and did as he was told. "Do you have any family over here? I can call someone to pick you up." Donna rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a phone before looking at him and tapping her foot expectantly.

He looked away and pulled absently at a coat button. "I don't have any. They're all gone now," he whispered.

She didn't blink. "Well what about friends then?"

"They are all gone too. I'm the only one left..." He was going to add more, but Donna interrupted him.

"Well then what are you doing wandering the streets at midnight?!" She screeched.

He winced, but still had to smile. After all these years she was still his Donna Noble. "Oh, just wanted to go for a walk is all. Look at the stars... They're so pretty on a clear night, you know."

Her face softened into a sad smile. "Just like Gramps, you are. He was always looking at the stars. He was convinced there were aliens. Anytime something a little odd happened he'd start running around the house yelling that the aliens were here." She laughed softly and look up at the night sky. "He died still believing there was life out there."

Wilfred was dead? He wondered briefly if it was a good death, or if he had failed the grandfather as well. "I.. I should be going now." He said softly, "I'm so sorry for your loss." He stood slowly and took a step.

"Not so fast, Gramps." Donna grabbed his sleeve and handed him a scrap of paper. "No one ever loses everyone. You still have family. Ring me up if you ever need anything, you hear?"

He looked down at the number in his hand. "Thank you," he whispered as he walked away.

"Hey Gramps!" She called after him. He turned and looked back at his former companion. "Take care of yourself, ok? And never stop looking at the stars. Who knows, maybe Gramps was on to something."

She smiled to herself. Her thief had a spark of life again. Maybe this would work after all.

He grumbled. This was not Barcelona. This was most definitely not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be in Barcelona. But no. He was in London. Outside a fish and chip shop. Admittedly, the chips smelled wonderful. Perhaps he would go in and try some. Yes, that sounded like a good idea. Since he was herewith nothing to do anyway. Then he would go to Barcelona.

As he snagged his order from the counter and turned to find a table, a movement on his left caught his attention.

"Excuse me, Doctor?"

He turned further to see who was addressing him. "I'm sorry, I think you've mistaken me fo-"

"My Doctor. No, I have not mistaken you. I would know you no matter whose skin you showed up in." Martha grinned up at him from her table with Mickey. Two young children were bouncing up and down next to them, asking who this new person was.

Mickey tried to explain to the bouncing bits of popcorn that this was an old friend of theirs as Martha convinced him to sit down. He didn't want to. He shouldn't stay here. Donna was a fluke, a mistake. He didn't know why he had run in to her, and why there was no abnormality or invasion. But he couldn't be that lucky twice. It was just impossible.

Time.

She just needed a little more time. The transmission (or such as it was) was almost finished.

Just a little more time, and everything would be ok.

Her thief would never need to worry again.

And there would be no more pain.

He leaned against the console, thinking about his fish and chip run. He hadn't expected to run into Martha. Not that he had expected to run into Donna. Or Sarah Jane, for that matter. And each time, he had expected the world to need saving. But... it hadn't. Everything had been fine. Sarah Jane and her son were living an almost normal life. Well, normal for them, anyways. Martha and Mickey were happily married, and were still in U.N.I.T.'s reserve squad. Jack was still with Torchwood. Everyone was... fine. They shouldn't be fine... Should they? He's always had to save them in the past... Do they no longer need him? He wondered if his hearts should feel so tight and heavy just at that thought.

She hoped this would work. It had to work. He had to let go just enough. She had to time this just right, because if he let too much go, he would never be happy... and she wanted her thief to be happy. To be able to rest for once in his life. To have the life he had never been able to have, but had so often dreamed of. Not that he would ever admit to dreaming. But she knew. She had heard his whispers, had seen how he watched others longingly. Had felt his dreaming after he lost someone.

She was so close.

"John, have you been having any strange dreams lately?" Rose asked one morning at the breakfast table.

He looked up from his cup of coffee and raised a brow. "I'm half Time Lord. When do I not have strange dreams?"

She huffed at him. "Not those kinds. The important kinds. The kind that mean we should be doing things. Now."

"You mean Bad Wolf ones?" He asked, now completely serious.

"Sort of. But not the world-coming-to-an-end ones. It's like... " She chewed her lip, trying to find the right word. "It's like the TARDIS is trying to talk to me. Like it needs something. It's almost like that time I looked into it and saw the time vortex. There was a pull, more like a mental tug, that there was something wrong with her Doctor. It wasn't just me trying to save him. She was too." Rose looked down at her tea.

"So... You think the TARDIS is asking for your help?" John asked softly.

"I think... I think she is asking for OUR help. For the sake of the Doctor. But they are in the other universe, and-"

"And you crossed there once before. So we can do it again. Now then, to Bad Wolf Bay for further instructions!" Rose laughed and followed him up the stairs to pack a bag.

She smiled. It was working. They were coming, and soon everything would be alright. Her thief would be taken care of, with no guilt, and no regrets.

"Now then, Old Girl, I say we should go visit Ood Sigma. He always said there was room in the song for me... perhaps it's time I try." He sighed, and fiddled with the switches.

Just one more stop. That's all the more she needed.

Vwoit

Vwoit

Vwoit

"Ahhh." The Doctor breathed as he stepped out of the TARDIS. "I love the smell of snow in... the... morn..."

John held up a hand and waggled his fingers. "Hello!" Rose stepped toward him warily, turning him around and checking his coat. "Are you in one piece?" She asked. He swallowed and nodded, unable to force his throat to work. "Are you sure about that. No Sontaran bar brawls that Jack didn't inform us of?"

He shook his head. "No.. No I'm fine. Really. How... How did you get here? On the.. No.. In the library..?" His head spun a little. He was in the library. The library owned by the Vashta Narada.

The library he had failed to save River in.

"Why.. How..?"

Rose turned from her inspection of the TARDIS door. "She called us."

He shook his head. "But you are supposed to be in the parallel universe. You can't be here. He shouldn't be either. You'll tear a hole in the-"

"Doctor, you once burnt up an entire star just to tell me goodbye. The universe can deal with being scratched while I do the same for you."

He stared at her. "What do you mean, 'she called'?"

"The TARDIS. She called us. You can ask her yourself, if you want." Rose nodded toward the console. "John figured out a way for her to better control the voice interface." She steered him inside. "Well, go on. Talk to her." She motioned to John, and they both silently stepped out.

"Sexy?" He whispered. The voice interface flickered, and then shifted to an image of Idris. He grinned, and then turned somber. "why did you call them? Do you... do you not want an old time traveler anymore?" He looked at the floor, almost afraid of the answer.

She tilted her head, trying to process the correct emotion. Her eyes grew wide. "No! I mean yes! I mean- oh bother." She put her hands on her hips and huffed. "You are my Thief. My thief that I have loved so dearly and had so many adventures with. But all adventures must come to an end, and travelers grow weary."

She was hurting him. She could feel it. But it had to be done, she just had to find the right words.

"You don't want to leave. But you aren't leaving me. I will be fine. You-"

"No! I am not leaving you!" He shouted. "And I don't know why you want me gone! Am I just too old? Haven't brought in enough pretty boys lately?"

Rose slipped back in and took his arm. "That's not what she's saying at all. You have always done so much for everyone else, at the expense of your own life. She doesn't want you to burn out like all the other Time Lords. She brought you here. She didn't tell me why this place was important. All that matters to me is that there is something here you need."

"And what will happen to her?!" He bellowed. "She gets to sit here and collect dust and slowly die while I go live?" He slammed a fist on the console. "No. I'm not doing that to her. I don't know why you're here, but I'm not letting her die."

John stepped forward. "You aren't leaving her to die. You're leaving her with us. We will take care of her, travel with her. We still run that Earth's version of Torchwood, remember? She won't e alone."

He was silent for a moment, processing what they were offering him. He didn't have to fade away. He didn't need to abandon his girl.

He could be with River.

Forever.

He still had a data chip. Just in case it was ever needed again. He could save himself to CAL's library.

...He didn't have to die.

She watched him anxiously. She had worked so hard for this. He couldn't reject it. Her thief needed his wife. He had lost her so very long ago.

He looked at all of them, and then focused on Rose. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" He asked softly. She nodded and squeezed his hand. He took one last look at the inside console, and ran a hand fondly over all the knicks in the door before turning and walking out.

"Hello, Sweetie."