Shaking slightly, he paused at the firing mechanics. After aiming his sonic at the lock that was only meant to be broken by the Lord President. Only. The Lord President was dead. They'd changed the combination since he was Lord President, but that didn't stop him. As soon as the Daleks finished killing everyone and sucking the life energy from the planet, they'd move on across the galaxy, like devouring monsters, sucking the life force from the universe itself. He could feel it pulsating, like a heartbeat, slightly out of synch. The TimeLords duty was to set it right.
Even though he knew he was an outsider, and had been kept in the dark, and something had been taken from the TARDIS for their purposes, he never did find out what it was – and the old ship just wouldn't tell him.
He pulled the lever – the lever that was never meant to ever have to be used. Locking his jaw, he fired the mechanisms, the planet's last defenses, against the Dalek fleet, flicking every switch. Staring at one last look at the warehouse, and the warnings still pulsing sadly, he ran into his ship, bolting the door.
And flicked a series of switches, not caring where he was going . Not anymore. Let the "old girl" decide. Sitting in his chair with his head in his hands, he looked up at the screens though his fingers – wondering briefly where he'd set the coordinates. But instead was old planet, glowing orange as the human's sun in the night sky. Surrounded by the Kastabourus constellation…
He walked slowly to the console, closing his eyes, blinking back the tears that threatened to course down his face. A single tear slid its way down his cheek, and TARDIS moaned softly. He sighed against the console, hanging his head, the tangled curly locks hanging in his face, tracing his finger along the old ship's controls…
Goodbye, old girl...
And the planet exploded into a fireball of dust and ash, as he TARDIS let out what sounded like a mournful whimper – and the Doctor screamed in pain as his two hearts felt as though they would explode from his chest, as the connection to his people was severed as though someone had cut off a limb or through an artery.
He leaned against the console and closed his eyes, feeling too crippled and heart-broken to move.
In mere seconds, the fires would reach him, and he'd perish with his people. As it should be.
TARDIS murmered at him, but he really wasn't paying attention to the old ship. Didn't notice he hadn't flicked the brake switch. The impact from the fireball of dust and ash sent the ship and her captain tumbling through space.
He may have not liked his home much, but it was still home. Now, there was no place to go back to. Only forewards.
All lost…he was the only one left… Gone from Time and Space itself. As though it had never existed.
He was too numb with pain to notice the fire spreading through the TARDIS.
And the Doctor, for one of the very few times of this incarnation…and for the last time, cried.
A/N: I'm not sure I like this, con-crit is welcome. So not an expert on Eight, like I am on Ten. But Eight just had to be written.