A/N: This story starts out roughly 65 years after the events of "Journey's End." I suppose it's kind of lame to write an epilogue to a fic I haven't even finished yet, but I actually wrote this story quite a while ago. I was going to hold onto it until the end of "One Life, Together", but I feel really guilty that I haven't been updating that fic more often, sooo here we are. Consider this a bonus. It even contains spoilers for "OLT." (Well, just one really: the new Doctor's "human" name. But you'll have to wait for him to choose it in "OLT" to find out the reasoning behind it. ^_^) You actually don't have to have read my other fic to read this; the name is the only real piece of continuity at this point. Reviews appreciated! Enjoy!
Rose and her Doctor sat on their little patio watching the sun set in the distance. The evening breeze ruffled their wispy white hair. Rose pulled her button-up sweater tighter around herself. She looked over at the Doctor, sitting on the rattan loveseat next to her, and smiled.
"You're awfully quiet tonight. Tired?"
"A bit, yes," he murmured. His age had begun to catch up with him over the past few years. Since the cells of his body had regenerated only 64 years ago, he had maintained a youthful level of health for ages past the point at which most men would have slowed down. In fact, many people had commented on his admirable longevity. But there was only so long he could outrun time in this human body, which was, unfortunately, susceptible to human ailments. He was now, according to his driving license, 99 years old—give or take 900 years.
He had been feeling something creeping up on him for the past few months, but he had done his best to ignore it. He didn't want to worry Rose, and there was no sense in dwelling on the feeling. He intended to live every second of his life to the fullest and not be distracted by fear of something as natural as death. But he knew what that creeping feeling was. His time was coming to an end.
"Rose," he began quietly. "We've had a brilliant life together, haven't we?"
She looked at him keenly. By now, she knew when he meant more than his words actually said.
"It's not over yet, love," she replied.
He met her gaze, and in his eyes she saw her fears confirmed.
"Not quite yet," he murmured. "But tonight is my last night."
Tears spilled out of her eyes before she even knew they were there. Her mouth dropped open in shock. His last night? She knew decades ago, the moment she learned that he would age with her, that it also meant he would die. But no matter how many years they had spent together, she would never be ready for it to end.
"How do you know?" she blurted shakily.
"I've felt it coming for months now," he replied, his eyes glistening. "I'm not sure how I know. The bit of Time Lord awareness I was left with, I suppose. I didn't say anything before now because there wouldn't have been a point. It would only have made our final time together painful. I wanted us to enjoy every moment of it."
"But you knew!" she cried. "I didn't know, but you did! How could you keep it from me?!" She took a shuddering breath. "How could you live with that on your own and not share the burden with me?"
He smiled at her then with so much love, there wasn't much room for sadness. She was his same old Rose, until the very end.
"Sharing it with you would have only made it heavier for me," he said gently. "I'm not afraid of death, Rose. The end of one life doesn't stop the rest of the universe from living on. Life itself never ends. And perhaps even one life doesn't end; perhaps it only moves on."
She laughed, and the sound made his heart swell. "You're amazing, Doctor. Only you could make death sound like just another adventure."
"Who says it isn't?"
They stared at each other for a long while, their hands clasped, smiling while tears trickled down their cheeks. Every line of each other's face was etched in their memories; every laugh that inspired a wrinkle was remembered. In nearly 70 years together, they had never wasted a second. It was a fraction of the lifespan of a Time Lord, and yet the Doctor felt he could not have lived more in a dozen millennia than they did in just a few decades.
"I'm not ready, you know," Rose whispered finally. "We could live forever, you and me, and I would never be ready for it to end."
He put a willowy arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. "Me either," he whispered.
They spent the rest of the evening as they always did. They changed into their nightclothes and robes and sat in the garden as darkness fell, warm mugs of tea in their hands, watching the stars come out. They remarked on a planet here, a constellation there, noting when one seemed brighter than usual. They shared stories that both of them knew by heart; stories of watching galaxies be born and walking beneath frozen waves 100 feet tall as the light of an alien moon poured down on them. They told more stories than usual, until the night air became chilling and their eyes demanded to close.
"It's time for bed, Rose," the Doctor said gently, rising from the bench they shared and taking her aged hand in his. "We can't wait out the night forever."
The pain she had been struggling to overcome all night dug its nails into her heart. "Why not?" she joked weakly, her laugh sounding more like a sob. Part of her wished he had never told her what was coming. But she knew that if he hadn't, she would never have forgiven him.
"Do you know exactly what's going to happen, or when?" she asked, not knowing what answer she hoped for.
"Not exactly, no," he answered, stroking her cheek. "I only know that in the morning, I'll be gone. And I want to spend my last night the way all the most wonderful moments of my life have been spent—next to you."
She drew him close to her then and held him as tightly as her fragile arms would hold. She wished she could be strong for him, but she couldn't bear this loss. She sobbed into his shoulder until she found it hard to breathe and her exhausted body finally ran out of tears.
The Doctor led her inside and lovingly helped her into bed before climbing in himself. They lay facing each other, their heads close together on one pillow, the tips of their noses touching. She reached out a shaking hand and caressed his cheek, and he put an arm around her waist, pulling her just a bit closer to him. Their legs entwined, and their eyes stared deeply into each other's as if they were young lovers together for the first time.
Despite her grief, Rose felt exhaustion begin to overtake her, and she knew she didn't want her last waking moments with her Doctor to be full of pain. She thought of all they had done and seen and been together; the planets they'd visited; the worlds they'd saved; the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren they'd welcomed into the world; and she smiled—a smile full of love, memories, and joy.
"I love you, Doctor," she whispered, her tired eyes still fixed on his.
"I love you, Rose," he whispered. His eyes seemed to glow with the light of the stars.
Rose blinked slowly, watching that light as long as she was allowed, willing it to never fade. "Doctor…"
"Yes, Rose."
"…take me with you."
Danny Wilder Jr. stood with his wife and children and his sister, brother-in-law, and nieces in the cemetery where his father had asked to be buried. His father had briefly considered cremation, thinking perhaps he would like his ashes scattered into the wind; but he had decided instead to be buried in a simple casket. He had said he was tired of going where the wind took him, and he wanted his body to be a part of the earth as the Earth had become a part of him.
His mother had been there when his father made the decision, and she had smiled adoringly at his words and reached out to take his hand. That was years ago, when his aging parents were still far enough from death that such plans were still simply precautions to spare their children the pain of making the decisions later.
He swallowed heavily and squeezed his wife's hand, afraid to look at her for fear he couldn't hold back his tears. His father would have gently scolded him for fighting his emotions, but he just couldn't deal with them right now. They were too fresh and overwhelming. He had known this day would come, and with each year that passed he had known it grew closer. But he still wasn't prepared. No one could ever really be prepared to lose a parent. And especially not to lose two.
He felt the lump in his throat swell as he looked at the names on the tombstone in front of him. As much as it hurt, he knew in his heart that this was the only ending the two of them would have wanted.
Daniel "Doctor" Wilder and Rose Tyler Wilder
1978–2071 1987–2071
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return."
No one at the service for Daniel and Rose noticed the strange man who stood alone at the opposite end of the cemetery. He waited silently until the last family members had left the grave site and the gravediggers had finished their work. Then he made his way solemnly over to where the family had stood.
He read the names over and over, as if tracing the lines of the letters into his memory. He knelt as he read the epitaph, and he brought his hand down to touch the loose dirt at his feet. He sifted a bit of it through his fingers, watching it scatter in the breeze. He thought of how brief a human life really was in the scheme of all time and space. How brief, how fragile, how tiny, how seemingly insignificant…how magnificent, and how irreplaceable.
He leaned forward and, after a moment's hesitation, brushed his fingers over the words on the tombstone. Even this stone would not last for more than a few fleeting centuries, but generations of this couple's descendants would be able to find it here, and it would help them remember.
He rose and was about to turn when he felt the brush of the wind on his face, almost like a caress, and he heard a sound like a faraway song or the echo of a laugh. He knew his time here was short, but the sound held him there for a few seconds more as he wondered what it could be and where it could be coming from. As he wondered, he stole one more look at the names in front of him, and in particular, one name: Rose Tyler. A smile played at the corners of his mouth and grew wider as warm tears ran slowly down his face. He let the tears come and felt the pain in his heart flare strong and hot. But then he heard that echo of laughter dancing away on the air, and the pain slowly, slowly diminished.
Still smiling, and without reaching up to wipe away his tears, the man turned and left the cemetery. A few minutes passed before there was a strange whirring sound, and the breeze suddenly changed direction. Then, as life continued on all around it, the cemetery became peacefully still.
A/N: The song quoted on the Doctor and Rose's tombstone is "Nature Boy" by Eden Ahbez, an American poet and songwriter. You might recognize it from Moulin Rouge. It seemed fitting.