At long last, the moment of my death has come.
Nearly five billion years of living have finally taken their toll. I have given the last of my strength to keep the New Earth motorway operational, keeping the last of the population safe until the effects of the Bliss drug had disappeared completely. Now, with one last burst of my failing strength, I open the motorway up, freeing all the trapped motorists and their families. I have given my life, so they can renew theirs. Now here I lie, on the floor, surrounded by my loyal servant, Novice Haim, my dear friend, Martha Jones, and the man I love more than anything in the universe. The Doctor. My beloved Doctor. I listen as the three of them talk amongst themselves. He has no clue who I really am and the worst part is…
I can't tell him.
Oh, believe me; I want to tell him just as I wanted to tell him when we were together on Platform One and in ward Twenty Six. I want so much to let him know that it's me. Let him know that I am still around, and I still love, and wonder, and worry about him. But, I can't.
Timelines, and all that.
And so, just like our meeting in Ward twenty six, I'm forced to keep silent about what I know and speak to him only in cryptic riddles, letting him know what he needs to know while at the same time being vague enough that I won't reveal everything that's coming, have him prevent it and possibly create a paradox. I can see my oldest and dearest friend watch my passing with a mixture of shock and disbelief. He can't believe it's really happening. I know just how he feels. After all this time, I figured I really would make it until the year One hundred trillion. I guess I was wrong. I guess there really wasn't another me running around on Malcasairo. I ache inside thinking back to that fateful day when we arrived on that planet. Professor Yana, Chantho, the Futurekind, the humans on their way to Utopia only to end up transformed into the Toclafane. I look at my friend and know that this version of the Doctor has yet to experience all that. It's bizarre, but I guess it illustrates the Doctor's point of time being wibbly wobbly. I can't even begin to tell you how hard it was not to blurt out that the Master was in his future. That the Doctor would be turned into an old man by him and trapped as his helpless slave for one hellish year. That my poor, sweet Martha would be forced to walk the Earth, forced to see the fallout from the Toclafane attack and tell the wearied survivors all about her friend so they could put right what the Master did. I wanted so much to warn them both, and it killed me inside that I couldn't.
I looked into the Doctor's eyes. The pain and the hurt there was more than I could bear. The Doctor was losing another friend, someone he cared about. I hate doing this to him, make him suffer one more loss after he'd already lost everything dear to him, but I have no choice. I have no more life left in me. Just like the Doctor, I gave everything I had to save the lives of hundreds of strangers.
I don't have much time left. I have to warn the Doctor about what's coming even if it must be in the form of a riddle. The Doctor is in deep shock now, refusing to accept that I am dying, and I know this riddle will shock him still more, but I must say it to preserve the timeline and give him a little bit of a heads up on what lies in store for him and Martha. Gathering my strength, I prepare to utter my last words to him.
"Don't go," he begs me.
"I must. But, know this, Time Lord, you…are…not…alone."
As my breath stills and my vision fades away, the last thing I see is the look of shock on his handsome face.
And then, finally, after all this time, I breathe my last and slip away, never to return. I have played my part in the universe, seen so much, perhaps too much as I told my Doctor. But now, at last, there is only peace and rest and a reunion with friends, family and four very special people.