A/N: This is not meant to be taken seriously in any way. It was just a spur of the moment idea with no thought to a real plot. And yes, there is funny at the bottom...or at least I hope so. For GKingofFez!
Running. That's all he'd ever done. Run from the responsibility, from the Timelords, from the monsters. To the farthest reaches of the universe he fled, taking shelter on whatever world's would welcome him and hide him. He loved all of them. The worlds and people who helped him and kept him safe. But all good things have an ending, and more often than not those good things end from a barrel of a gun.
They had always been there, always tormented him with their heinous existence. A cancer on the life of all creation slowly draining the life of all others they come into contact with. With their cold, sterile shells. Their shrill, hateful voices shouting at the universe itself. Devoid of all emotions, all feelings, anything that would have given them a cause to really live. And they had chased him, the last of his race fleeing from a never ending enemy. Constantly being stalked by the greatest hunters the universe had ever seen, whether by nature or design. The Daleks.
They had come for him after the War. His people failed...he failed. Gallifrey was gone. Not gone in the sense of it's civilization being destroyed, gone as in destroyed, surviving only as a cluster of rocks and asteroids gravitating around a poisoned star. Oh yes, the great star of Casterborus, poisoned with the same foul radiation that permeates the skin of their scarred world. They had sought to ensure no others like the Timelords would ever rise to power from the dead system ever again. Once that was done, they began their march across the universe, burning a swath across all the worlds that opposed them. To be fair, they were hardly picky. Sure, some worlds survived, but only to serve as a labor force, constructing the Dalek's horrid ships and weapons.
Soon, they had nearly won, the universe theirs, but the last Timelord had one last recourse. Alternate Realities. One of the golden rules of the Timelords, to never endanger the infinite web of Verses by traveling between them. Unfortunately, that rule became moot after the Daleks won. For decades after the war, he had traveled from parallel to parallel, hoping to find some way to stop them, end them once and for all. But all was for naught when the Daleks followed, conquering even more worlds. Soon all of existence would fall, but he wouldn't live to see it. Because this is his end.
This is the day the Doctor dies.
They had found him on a small planet, hiding with the local population as he worked on another trick to stop the Daleks. He heard their ships overhead as he worked. He knew he had to leave. He ran from his small hut the village leader had given him to his last and oldest companion, the TARDIS. He reached for his key, running with all his might to the tree line where he had hidden her. Just as he crossed the field separating him from his ship, a massive blast of heat knocked him from his feet, sending him tumbling into a pile of rocks. As he gathered himself up, holding his bleeding and most likely fractured skull, he looked up and saw his TARDIS, his lifelong friend and oldest love...burning...or what was left of it. All that remained was the base of the blue box, slowly being charred from the fire.
He was trapped. Even the death of his TARDIS didn't matter right now. He was perhaps the only person, the only being in existence that could have stopped them. Now, he was trapped, cornered, and without help. No more running, no more hiding...no more living. This was his final fight. Only there was no fight to be had. As he sat there, bleeding and staring at his once beautiful ship, they had come. Two dozen demons come to drag him off to hell. He acknowledged at some point they were talking, no, ordering him to kneel. He did. They were still screaming at him, something about the futility of running and fighting. He didn't care. He failed. He failed the universe, his people, Earth, everyone. The greatest protector of all time, had failed. He took notice that they had stopped yelling, and instead encircled him, their blasters at the ready. This was it, his final moment. The last thing he would hear before his death, before the death of all life, was the most wretched phrase he could ever hope to hear. One that had been repeated several times over in these last few centuries. One little word, that burned him to his core.
"EXTERMINATE!"
The Daleks that had gathered together to exterminate the doctor now gazed at his lifeless body. All of them were of the highest rank; Admirals, Commanders, Generals, even the Supreme Dalek himself came with to ensure the death of the Dalek's most hated foe. And so he did. The Doctor was dead and gone, the Timelords, Humans, Sontarans, Cybermen, Zygons. All that opposed the Daleks had been eliminated. The rest of the Verses were well on their way to conquest. The whole of creation was their domain now. Their prime directive was complete. They had won. Extermination complete.
"...WHAT NOW?"
The supreme one turned to face his admiral.
"WHAT?"
"THIS ONE WISHES TO KNOW WHAT WE ARE TO DO KNOW, SUPREME ONE!" The question was a reasonable one, however the following one caused some complications. "WE HAVE EXTERMINATED NEARLY ALL LIFE, ALL WORLDS! WE HAVE ACCOMPLISHED OUR DIRECTIVE! WHAT NOW?"
He...he didn't know. For all their blustering about extermination, the Supreme One never once really considered what would happen when they accomplished their goal. I mean, Daleks lived to kill. What do you do when a killer can't kill anymore?
"...and just like that, you've got a happy little mountain. Shoot, I lived in Alaska for over a dozen years..."
"THIS PAINTING IS INSUFFICIENT! WE HAVE RUN OUT OF TITANIUM WHITE! REFILL! REFILL PALLET!"
"...We have to leave the island Locke! We can't stay here anymore!"
"INCORRECT! THE LAND MASS YOU CURRENTLY OCCUPY HAS SUFFICIENT NUTRITION AND LIQUID SUPPLY TO KEEP ORGANICS LIKE YOUR SELF ALIVE FOR MANY CYCLES! EXPLAIN LOGIC! EXPLAIN!"
"What do you mean, why's it got to be built?" he said. "It's a bypass. You've got to build bypasses."
"INCORRECT! BYPASSES ARE WOEFULLY INADEQUATE! DALEKS WOULD SIMPLY DESTROY ALL STRUCTURES IN OUR WAY!"
As it turns out, there is quite a bit to do, after you exterminate all life.