Slightly AU. Stolen Earth/Journey's End/End of Time etc. never happened. Obviously, I don't own Doctor Who, if I did these two would have a much better ending.
It was time. He had some minutes before it would happen, maybe even an hour, but when the sun would rise next morning, that body would be long gone. He would still exist, with different features, different traits, a whole different personality, but it really did feel like dying. The greatest irony? It was Christmas.
It had been a good life though, a good incarnation. He had done a lot of things he had wished for centuries. He had had some of the greatest companions, he had saved millions and millions of lives. And going like this, because of the radiation he absorbed to save a whole planet, knowing that all these people would live thanks to him, it was the best way to go he could ever imagine.
That didn't mean he would leave without saying his goodbyes first. He had the plan ready in his head. He wouldn't talk to them, he wouldn't make them go through the same pain he was. He would just make sure they were happy. Even without him. Happy and adventurous as always, longing to see what all those years they had in front of them had to offer. Even when he would be long gone.
The house in Chiswick was as luminous as ever. Laughs could be heard, coming from inside, as a family exchanged gifts next to a Christmas tree. A blonde middle-aged woman, an older man with white hair and a beard of the same color –he could really be Santa Claus-, a man in his late thirties, tall, with dark hair and a red-hair woman, heavily pregnant and with a huge grin on her face. Donna Noble. His Donna.
She seemed genuinely happy. Married, a baby on the way, it was everything she never knew she wanted. They travelled together for a long time, but she started requesting more frequent visits home. Because of her mother, because of her grams and in the end, because of Josh. She made the Doctor promise that he would drop by every now and then to say hello, maybe have dinner with them, spend a few days together. And with that she left the TARDIS and her old spectacular life behind, possibly for a greater one.
"I'll go get some firewood," Wilf announced inside the house, impossible for the Doctor to listen.
Sylvia, his daughter, argued, said he was too old, that it was too cold outside and all the other excuses, but he was way too stubborn. He dismissed her with something like "you're old, I'm not!" and he was out the door in a matter of seconds.
The Doctor was lurking in the shadows, hoping the old man wouldn't see him. But of course he did. He had served in the military after all, trained to detect every little movement.
The two men stared at each other for a while, one with utter surprise on his face, the other with a faint melancholy. It was obvious that Mr. Mott was trying to get over his shock and decide whether or not he would talk. But he saw it in the Doctor's eyes, he understood what was happening and all the messages he was trying to transfer to him. I'm going. Have a happy life. Die from old, old age. Take care of her. Take care of your great-grandchild. Take care of yourself. Merry Christmas, Wilf.
Finally able to react, he nodded and did the one thing he had learnt to do as a gesture of respect to his superiors. He saluted. And he may had had many years on his shoulder, but in that moment he looked like a twenty-year-old, ready to give his life for his country.
Both men went back into their homes. The human didn't mention anything to his grand-daughter. It's for her own good, he thought. The alien, even though he had such a huge house, had no one to say something to.
Next stop was the suburbs of Liverpool. In a little house, there sat a couple. An African-American woman with a grin and the eyes of someone in love, staring right at the man on the opposite side of her table, a man with sharp facial features and a determined look on his face. There were empty plates with traces of chocolate on them and two lit candles on the tablecloth. They both seemed to be completely enraptured by each other, not talking, just enjoying each other's company. That was when the man turned nervous. His hands were shaking a bit, he seemed to be stuttering. Drops of sweat formed on his forehead. He found the courage though. He went down on one knee and opened a small box with something glowing inside. Still, the diamond on the ring couldn't compare with the glow in Martha's eyes as he grabbed him and kissed him. They hugged for a bit and then he went out of the room, probably to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine, or whatever else was on the menu. She stood up and walked to the large window, unable to hold back her smile and occasionally glancing at the jewel on her finger, sometimes up at the moon.
She looked out of the window though, and she saw him on the opposite pavement. His hands in the pockets of his brown trench coat, a little smirk on his face. You made it, Martha Jones, you really did.
The smile on the woman's face was gone, however. She was smart, she was a doctor too. And she knew that man across the street, she knew what that visit meant.
She was in a tight dress and heels, jewelry and make-up and hair in an impeccable bun, but that didn't stop her from bring her hand to the side of her head, in a perfect salute. She was a soldier, after all. She had fought aliens and saved lives, she had saved the whole world, even though no one could remember.
Her fiancé had returned and the Doctor was back in the TARDIS and off to another planet, a different century.
He was in an intergalactic casino. There were tables all over the room and the dim lighting, as well as the smoke from the things many aliens were smoking made it difficult to see, but the Doctor recognized the other man, even though the time agent was playing cards at the corner table and the time lord was standing a few meters away from the door.
"You've lost almost everything, Harkness," said a huge alien who looked like human, apart from his purple skin and the thorns he had instead of hair. "Find something to bet, or I'll have to kick you out."
"Wait, wait," the Captain protested, sounding slightly worried. "What about this vortex manipulator?" he asked. "I know people who would kill for these things," he mentioned, sadly smiling to himself and his immortality, which could be both a gift and a curse.
"You're on," the purple one agreed. "Mind if I ask how you'll get back to your century when you lose this?" he teased, looking at the time-travelling machine which now lay on the table.
"Don't worry about me, dear, I have my ways," Jack replied with his casual wink.
The Doctor turned around, ready to leave. Jack was fine, as always. And he was sure he would find a way home, even if he lost his means of transport in a stupid card game. He knew he wouldn't die, he knew who he would turn out to be in a few millennia. There was no reason to make himself known now, as he was sure they would meet again many times in the future.
The moment he was about to step out of the den, he felt someone pulling his coat. He looked down to see a tiny woman in a similarly petit black dress. Her skin was too pale, she had short brown hair, red lips, no nose and a folded piece of paper in her hand.
"This is for you, sir," she said in a squeaky voice and offered him the note. No sooner had he taken it in his hands than she vanished into thin air.
The Doctor curiously unfolded the paper. Just a couple of lines were written in a leaning handwriting.
I was much better off as a coward… but thank you. Farewell, Doctor. May we meet again.
The alien turned to face his old friend, just to find another salute waiting for him. He had left his game, the vortex manipulator back on his wrist and his opponent nowhere to be seen. The Doctor nodded his lips a slim line, before disappearing out of the casino and back to his blue box.
There was only one last destination. The pain in his chest was growing, the regeneration was approaching more and more. And it was the hardest decision he ever had to make.
He made it though. He found the supernova. He was really there, in Pete's World. Or rather his projection was, as his true self was safely in his ship, orbiting around a burning sun. But he wasn't at Bad Wolf Bay. Just a random street. A random street of London.
Why such precision? Because even though he had promised to himself and to the rest of the universe that he wouldn't try to find her again, he did. He knew he couldn't travel to the alternate universe, he knew it would have torn the fabric of reality apart. So he just found a way to see her again without having her travel to Scandinavia. He could have done it years ago, but he was afraid, he was uncertain. He wanted more than anything to see her again, but what for? He wouldn't be able to hold her, feel her close to him. What would he even say to her? However, he had finally reached a time which was not for doubts.
The parallel universe was pretty much the same as the other one. It was around Christmas, few people were out. The only difference was that it was colder. The roads were covered with a small layer of snow and the Doctor was pretty sure that his breath would create a small cloud as he exhaled, if he did walk these streets. He couldn't move around, since he wasn't really there, so he just hoped that the studies and calculations of all those years were right. That he was standing on the right spot.
And they were. A few minutes later a figure appeared, passing the intersection some meters away. Short, blond hair, characteristic walking; it was definitely her. She would have gone on, not noticing the man who was so close, but yet so far, if he hadn't found the courage to talk.
"You goin' my way, doll?" he asked, but his voice was missing the chipper tone it had when he first spoke it, what it seemed like centuries ago.
Rose turned. Her hair looked as if it was floating when she moved and her face was completely calm- until she saw him. Her face twitched, not knowing if she should smile or cry. Not knowing if that was real. She hesitantly took a few steps towards him.
"Coming home from work, I presume?" he asked, looking at her formal attire. "Look at you, all dressed up. Still fighting aliens?"
"Yeah, I'm Head of Torchwood now. Apparently denim jackets and pigtails don't make people respect you enough," she said, letting out something between a chuckle and a sob. "Is… is this a dream? Am I hallucinating or something?" she finally asked, putting a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Oh, no, no. It's really me. Just thought I would save you the trip to Norway," he answered, with the bitterest laugh that had ever come out of his mouth.
"Oh. Okay. How long has it been for you?" She knew she didn't have much time and whatever the reason of his visit, she would seek the answers of some questions that have always bothered her, at least since their roads parted.
"One and a half century, give or take. You?"
"Wow. That's a lot. Me? Much, much less," she replied and silently blamed herself for being so weak. For all the nights she cried herself to sleep because she wouldn't see him again. Just for five petty years. She couldn't even imagine what it had been like for him. "And… and how many after me?" she managed to let out one of the most important questions.
"Two." He found no reason to lie. "And good old Jack, of course. You would have loved them all, you really would." An awkward silence followed. "You? Was there anyone?" It was his turn to learn everything he wanted to know.
"Nah. Not really." Not after you, she thought to herself. "And I have a little brother to take care of now," she continued, reminding him of Jackie's pregnancy. "Mickey found someone though. She's a really nice girl. I think they're pretty serious."
"Well, way to go Rickey boy, I always knew you-"
"Can we… why, Doctor?" she interrupted him. "Why are you here, why now, how much time do we have, why are you doing this to me?" she shouted in the empty street where no one could listen, a few tears eventually streaming down her face.
She was blaming him. Because all those years, she was trying to get over him. Start a life of her own, be someone without him. It had been half a decade. She had managed a few things. And just when she thought she could go on, when she didn't break down every time someone mentioned an alien they had once fought together at Torchwood- there he was again.
An excruciating pain suddenly went through the Doctor's chest and he fell down to one knee, holding onto something that wasn't visible in the projection. Despite her previous outburst, Rose instinctively moved closer to him, worried, just to be reminded he couldn't actually touch him or do anything to help him.
"I'm dying, Rose. Well, not actually dying, you know how this thing goes," he whispered, not lifting his eyes to look at her. "And I just thought… I thought I should say goodbye."
His head shot up and their eyes met. And he knew. He knew she didn't really blame him. She could never blame him for being in her life, for this unexpected visit. Because she would never forget all the adventures, everything they went through together. All the laughs, all the running, all the fights. The times they spent hanging around in the console room, or locked up in different rooms, waiting for the other to talk and make things right. Because after those two heartbreaking goodbyes that were never actually said, the story of the Bad Wolf and the Oncoming Storm deserved a better ending. Because he was and would always be the love of her life and nothing could change that.
Rose brought her hand to her mouth and choked back a sob, as she looked down at his palms that were suddenly glowing with a golden aura. "No, please, don't go, please!" she screamed. "I love-" she started. Even if he never got the chance to hear it from him, she wanted it to be the last words in his mind before he changed. But she was interrupted.
"Rose Tyler," the Doctor spoke and stared right into her eyes. "I love you."
The last thing she saw was him catching on fire and then the connection was lost. He was back somewhere in space in another universe, dying. And she was there, in an empty street of London, crying like she had never cried before, with no one around to talk to.
However, something was different. All these past years, something was missing inside her. There was a hole in her heart, like a missing piece of a puzzle that longed to get in place. And the gap was finally filled.
Because Rose Tyler and the Doctor did have a better ending than an unfinished sentence on a Norwegian beach, after all.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This is my second published fic and my first ever attempt to write something about DW, so some reviews and feedback would be lovely!