"Tell you what? I bet you're gonna have a really great year."
"Yeah?" Rose smiled, and each of his hearts skipped a beat. Their rhythm was painfully uncoordinated, reminding him that he didn't have long.
"Oh," he winced. His smile faltered, and he gripped his chest in pain.
"Are you sure you're fine?"
"Yes, yeah, I'm great. Lovely." He smiled again, every inch of his face hurting with the effort.
"Doesn't look like it. You need me to call somebody?"
"I need to be alo- Ah!" he cried, gritting his teeth. Don't die. Don't regenerate. Not yet.
"Listen, I'm gonna go find someone to help you. I'll be right back, alright?"
As soon as she turned the corner, he began to move towards the TARDIS. The world ended over and over as the ground spun around him. Pain spread through his body in so many ways- stabbing him, burning him, pushing him to the ground, twisting his arms and legs, and breaking his hearts, only to mend them and break them again. It seemed an infinity later when he reached the TARDIS doors.
"You there? I got-" She arrived just in time to glimpse the door of a blue police telephone box shutting with a slight creak. Wait- a police box from the 1960's? What was it doing here?
"Hello?" she called, thinking this bloke probably had way too much to drink. "You in there?"
No reply.
"Listen, it won't do you much good to lock yourself in that box. No one's gonna arrest you. I just want to help... Hello?"
She knocked on the door. Four times. A quick reminder. The Doctor kept silent, able only to grit his teeth and fail at stopping the silent tears. He mouthed her name, and even managed to soundlessly form those three words he'd never said to her. The three words he'll never say.
"He's locked himself inside!" he heard her say. What a silly mistake it was to come here. You daft, thoughtless old man.
Slowly, his ears stopped registering the shouting, the knocking, even the... music? Yes, there was music, and it was growing louder. He was not sure when it had started, but he recognized it. He knew it like the palm of his hand, which had just started to glow, faintly gold. Soon, he won't know it any longer.
The sound of the Ood continued, growing louder than her voice. Was this the last time he'll ever hear it? And here it is- was this the promised wave of regrets, stronger than ever before, that plagues old men when they die?
They think it's just some party music. Maybe they'll think this is just a party trick.
He pulled the lever, and she was left knocking on thin air.
"I never told you..." The night sky was endless, and he was no longer with her. He could have done so much. He should have said much more.
"I don't want to go."
