He
knew what was happening.
He knew it would happen sooner or later,
and he was ready for it.
He wouldn't fight, he wouldn't try to
prevent it or make his life last longer. He only sat there, almost
silently, as he waited for death to come.
He was dying.
And he
knew it.
The Doctor wasn't depressed; he'd had a nice,
long life; full of adventure and fun. He wasn't scared to go.
But
he was slightly sad. The universe- No, the galaxy- was losing it's
last Time Lord, the last person who actually stood up against the
rules for once, who knew how to rebel, change lives. The last person
actually able to fight the Daleks.
But were they still around?
He
didn't even know if any of his companions were still alive, and
doubted it. He was an old man of way over 900 now, and could no
longer keep up.
But he'd had a happy life, a fun life, a long
life.
The Doctor smirked and blew a ginger strand of hair out of
his face.
Ginger.
Finally!
Although, he'd have to say his favorite regeneration was his
tenth. His ninth had too big of ears, and he was an easy target then
for a rude joke or comment. But his tenth life was thin, active,
hyper, and hair. Lots of hair.
The
Doctor shifted in his seat and groaned loudly.
Was this death?
Then it hurt.
The urge to sleep was so bad, his eyelids trying to
close on him.
No, no, not yet, let me say goodbye…He said
silently to himself, quietly to himself, in his mind.
He leaned
forward, a weak mind in a weak body, and reached a hand out to the
console of the TARDIS, patting her lovingly.
"Old girl,"
he began in a soft, mellow tone. "The years have been kind to
us."
The TARDIS hummed slowly in response.
The Doctor
wasn't the only thing dying. His ship was too. She was too old, and
like him, just simply couldn't keep up.
"I want you to do
one more thing." The Doctor murmured quietly, weakly standing up
and shuffling 'round to the other side of the console. Like good
old times, he began flipping and flicking the switches.
And even
though it was a struggling strain, the TARDIS obeyed his command. The
TARDIS, his TARDIS. His one true love.
The TARDIS didn't
complain, she didn't stop and pretend she wasn't listening. She
did as she was told. The TARDIS started up.
The Doctor felt as
though he couldn't hold himself upright anymore, all he wanted to
do was sleep…sleep…No! Not yet!
But then his legs gave out
under his own weight, and he came crashing to the floor.
He landed
on his back with a thud, sprawled out there, staring up at the high
ceiling and gasping for air.
The
Doctor would die with honor.
He would not die fighting. He would
not die saving a planet, or freeing a group of slaves. He would not
die after getting an award for helping in a war. He would not die
admitting his love to a woman.
That was silly, dying just because
you liked someone.
He would die with his own type of honor. He
would die accepting death naturally. He would die in his own
ship.
But now it seemed lonely.
The
Doctor felt like a fish out of water, still breathing heavily and
lying on the floor, his body was aching.
He tried to suck in air,
but when he exhaled, a long goldenly wisp of energy came out with
it.
The energy was his dying soul, freeing itself. The energy
floated around the TARDIS a couple of seconds, and then slipped
through a crack and into space. At least a little of him would still
be out there.
The Doctor watched it all with a large, crazed grin
and a dazed look in his eyes.
Then, something happened. His mind
and body were racing, like he wanted to do laps but he couldn't. He
could see memories flashing before his mind, too quickly to make any
sense of them.
The energy, the goldenly-orange energy, engulfed
his face, molding it and twisting it as though he was clay. He could
feel the rest of his body shifting and moving too, changing.
He
was going through all his lives one last time, not on his own free
will though, and re-living old memories…
The Daleks…Meeting
Rose…Leaving Gallifrey…Fighting Daleks with Ace…Destroying the
Cybermen with Sarah-Jane…More Daleks…The Daleks had ruined his
life.
The
memories were going faster and faster and becoming blurrier and
blurrier. Like he was on a wild ride on the fair that that simply
wouldn't stop.
Then, his last body, the white-haired old man,
which he was now.
And then he changed back, back into his present
form.
The TARDIS continued to hum slowly as the lights began to
fade. She had used up the last of her power.
Both were going.
But,
The Doctor…He couldn't…He needed to see his friends. Needed to
be with them…But he couldn't.
Still lying on his back, The
Doctor looked up at the console, eyelids flickering open and closed.
"Thank you." He murmured quietly to the TARDIS. And
then he gave one last shuddering sigh.
And all was still.
All
things were still inside the TARDIS, but outside was a different
story.
All the stars in the whole of space and time seemed to
dim, the planets losing their luster. The need to be explored.
And
then something exploded. It was more like a sonic boom really. The
TARDIS's dying commands.
The fabric of space and time was
twisting and turning, bending and re-shaping itself but only for a
moment. The TARDIS was that powerful, and yet it had never showed
anybody except her master.
It was as though the dark night sky was
melting and re-forming, a heat wave sweeping over everything above
Earth, and then a blast of icy air. That's what it was like.
In
London, lonely London, The Doctor's favorite city on his favorite
planet, there was a graveyard. A large graveyard with hardly any
gravestones to call its own.
The Doctor wasn't buried there. The
TARDIS is, even though it too is dead, still floating through space.
The final frontier. For space and time would surely end, but not as
soon as the Earth.
But the gravestone was there so nobody would
forget. An almost vain act that one would think someone like The
Doctor would do.
Then the fabric of space and time changed.
Slowly, someone faded in front of the gravestone. A woman. And then
more.
Like ghosts, the people slowly faded in, puzzled and
looking around without the slightest idea of what was going on.
Ace,
Sarah-Jane, Rose, Liz, Jamie, Harry. All of his companions had
suddenly just appeared.
Some of them knew each other, but were
still clueless on why they had all been brought here.
They all had
about 30 seconds each to look at the gravestone standing alone upon
the hill. And they disappeared as time sorted itself back out.
The
gravestone held only five words on it.
Five words meaningless to
any normal human that walked past.
The
Doctor.
The
Lonely God.
