Forever
There was nowhere left to go.
The Dalek had shot him at the same time as he set off the bomb. They would all be destroyed, for good this time, and so was he. He was gone. Then why had he still been there?
He'd looked around, startled. He was there, in the TARDIS, just sitting, as if this going to be a normal regeneration. He knew better. He was on his last regeneration, his last life. He was going to die tonight.
But not before he got to say good-bye.
Like anyone's life, there were a lot of bad things about being a Time Lord, especially being the last one, but there where a lot of good things, too. There was this. When he died, he got to go back, visit all of his companions, send them off properly.
Now there was only one place he wanted to be.
He'd started with the first ones, the ones who helped in the beginning, and they where less heartbreaking, really. He'd said good-bye to them a long time ago. Martha was the first one that truly hurt. He wasn't allowed to talk to most them. He just got to see. She'd gotten married, had children, grown old. Torchwood had been her home until the end, she and her husband's. Wonderful. Beautiful.
There where a few other stops before his next close friend, just acquaintances he'd picked up, races he had saved. He saw the end of the Ood, after a long and prosperous reign, before he went to see the woman they had prophesied to him.
Donna was just as happy as Martha was. Same sort of set-up, really. Husband. Children. Old age. And she wouldn't remember him at all, even if she'd seen him. She had no idea how important she was. His heart broke at the sight of her, but at the same time rejoiced. She was so happy, so blissfully unaware of what she was missing.
More races, more people, more friends, all happy. The ends and beginnings and middles of lives he had touched, had traced along his finger and curved into place, fixing where they stood and where meant to be, then one of his most uplifting stops. One where he was allowed to talk. The man he was meeting was as much an anomaly in time as he was, and the laws of universe made exceptions for people like that.
"Doctor?"
"Oi, wasn't sure you'd recognize me."
"The TARDIS is a bit hard to forget, really…"
He smiled solemnly up at Captain Jack Harkness, who knew what was coming, undoubtedly. It must be written across his face.
"I'm dying, Jack."
A pause.
"Is it worth it, living forever? I'd just like to know what I'm missing out on."
Another pause, then-
"Not if you don't have someone to live for, then no."
He nodded, trying to figure out what point of Jack's life he was in. It had probably been years since Ianto died, and the Captain still couldn't forget his great love.
He knew the feeling.
"I guess this is good-bye then. Hey- not too much flirting while I'm gone!"
"You forget, Doctor, how long I'll live. I'll probably see you again, other regenerations of you, in the future."
"True," he sighed, "You won't tell me that I'm dead, will you?"
"Don't worry, your secrets safe with me."
He smiled, turning to leave, but suddenly felt a hand catch his, turn him around, before a warm kiss was planted on his lips, warm and soft.
"Goodbye, Doctor," Jack whispered, and for once, he could hear the pain in the man's voice.
"Live well, Jack," he answered, and turned again to continue. There was more to see, more to say goodbye to.
Like Rory and Amy.
They couldn't see him, of course. Amy had gone blind with cataracts years ago, anyway. They where both set to die soon, in about three weeks they would die in their sleep, within three hours of each other. They were lucky. Neither had lost their minds in the aging process. As he watched, Amy reached a hand out, searching for something, and Rory took it, pressing a shaky kiss to the tender skin, and they both smiled softly.
"Hello, Pond," he whispered, watching from a distance with a smile, "Finally a ginger, you know. Finally, the last time around, I get to be a ginger."
He felt the tears coming as he left two of his greatest friends for the last time.
He visited the others, of course. The species, the races, the plants, the acquaintances, the companions. Everyone he'd ever met flashed before him, some slowing down to let him look carefully, others whizzing by at lightning speed, but all he got to say farewell to.
There was someone missing, though. Something he couldn't quite place.
As he stepped back into the TARDIS, leaving Lindsay and Meg, his last companions, his last friends, to their lives, he'd known what it was time for.
Rose.
It was a bit of a stretch, making it to the alternate universe, but a dying Time Lord can work some incredible science, and if his TARDIS can pull a few strings… he just might end up on a beach by Bad Wolf Bay.
And he did.
"Nice hair."
He cringed at the joke. Of course. She didn't think there was anything wrong. Why would there be? He did get to see her, every so often.
"Rose," he sighed, smiling at her. She'd aged a bit, since the last time he'd come, and the breath was knocked out of him. She was so beautiful he could hardly think, more beautiful than he remembered, and he knew what had always been true- that he would never love anyone the way he loved Rose Tyler.
"What are you doing this time? Burning another sun?" she said, with such forced casualty it stung in his bones.
"I'm really here this time, Rose, but not for long," he said, "You're my last stop."
"Last stop for what?" she asked, making her way closer to him, concern creeping into the corners of her voice like angry shadows, ready to tear away her joy.
"My last goodbye," he whispered, pulling back the collar of his t-shirt. No one ever thought that a Dalek's shot left a mark, but it did, a small one, but a mark none the less. He showed her that mark now, and saw the last of her fake smile fade. "Dalek got me on my last regeneration. Wiped them out, though! Forever this time, I'm sure of it. Nobody will here from them ever again, most likely."
His voice cracked, realizing that no one would ever here from him again, either. He probably wasn't even alive anymore; this was just his last wish for life helping him hold on to this moment.
"Doctor…" she said, tears already in her eyes, and he just smiled sadly.
"Still isn't me, is he?"
"Never will be," she shook her head, then wiped her tears away, "Why couldn't you just come with me? Why couldn't I come with you? Why…"
"Rose, please," he whispered, pulling her into his arms. There was nothing he could do to stop her pain, but he could try to shorten it. "You can't change this. No one can. Everything's time comes, Rose, and everyone dies. Eventually, even planets and universes and time will end up dying. This is my time, love, and I wouldn't change it if I could.
"I'll tell you one thing, though," he said, now through tears, holding his love close, "I am sorry that I lied."
"Lied about what?" she murmured through sobs, and he cleared her tears with soft finger tips, turning her chin up toward his.
"I said I wouldn't get to spend the rest of my life with you. I guess now I do."
That had seemed like a good thing to say at the time, even if it was a lie. He knew he'd have to leave, have to take the TARDIS and bury them both somewhere safe, out of sight, and peaceful. Maybe even earth, who knew. Either way, he'd have to leave her eventually.
And eventually he had.
He didn't know how long they stood on the beach, just holding each other, but eventually, he felt a familiar pull in his chest, the pull of death, which he'd felt so many times. He didn't know how many times Rose kissed him for the last time before letting him go with glazed and starry eyes. He was really dying now, and he'd left, slipping into his ship and saying his last farewell to his one and only home, ever since the destruction of his people.
"Time to say goodbye to you, is it?" he asked, "You are my home, I guess. You've always been there, through all of the pain and the love and the death. You've seen it all. We both have. I really don't want to leave you, you know. You might just be the best friend I've ever had."
He knelt before the console, his knees weakening. This was it then, this was where he went, here, in the TARDIS, between two universes.
"Sorry to interrupt," a voice called, "But I think you owe me a goodbye, too."
He jumped turning around to stare at the woman in the doorway of the TARDIS. She wore a long black dress, and her hair was a cloud of blonde, surrounding her in a mysterious cloud of yellow. She smiled, a sweet smile, one he thought he must know, but didn't remember at all, and knelt with him, cupping his cheek in her hand.
"Hello, sweetie," she whispered, the same sad, sweet smile touching her lips, "Remember me?"
His immediate response was no, he did not know her, and could she please leave him alone to die in peace with his TARDIS, but something stopped him, a tug in his chest that made him stare into her, through her, around her. Who was she? He had a feeling he'd known her once, but there was something he couldn't quite place that said he didn't.
"I… I don't know," he stammered.
"Here," she breathed, holding out her other hand, "Let me show you."
And show she did. He knew what was happening before it started, the transfer of memories. She was going to give him something of hers, from her mind, a memory of a person or a place or a thing, and it would become his own. Usually, this wasn't an exciting ordeal, but he was dying, making this one of the strangest things that had ever happened to him.
And that was saying something.
His last thought before the stream started was to wonder if he really knew her at all, or if she was God. Or an angel. Or-
River Song.
The thoughts streamed through, the memories. The first meeting, the last, the in-between. Rory and Amy's daughter. The woman with the hallucinogenic lipstick. The woman locked in Storm Cage, the one who escaped. River Song.
His wife.
He was frozen, staring up at her.
"A good wife would never let her husband die alone, would she?"
He couldn't help it now, he sobbed. He sobbed for the acquaintances and the companions, for the races and his own race and his Rose and his wife who he hadn't known for all those years, who had to live on without him long before he was gone. He sobbed for himself, for being cursed with this life, with this reason, and mostly, he sobbed for the time that got lost when you weren't looking, the time you'd never get back because, while you where busy living your life, it slipped by under your feet, stealing away your chances.
"Goodbye, Doctor," River Song whispered, and it was only then that he realized how weak he'd become, leaning so heavily on her that he thought she wouldn't be able to hold him.
"I… I'm scared… I don't want to go…" he stuttered, then laughed slightly, at the absurdity of it all, "Imagine that. You live more than 2,000 years, and still feel like there's more to see. Incredible."
"It's alright, love," she whispered, and he could hear the tears in her voice, "You don't have to be scared. You've told me yourself, everything and everyone dies. We all reach our time."
"I guess that's now then, isn't it?"
"That it is, sweetie."
"Goodbye, River Song."
And that, as they say, was that. He lay back, letting himself fall to the ground, and let himself slip away. His loose ends where tied, his TARDIS was safe in River's hands, and his last goodbye had been said. There was nothing left to do. Jack had been right. There was no point in living on when there was no one to live for. The universe could take care of itself now.
Then again, couldn't River have been something to live for?
No use questioning it now, he thought, this was undoubtedly a fixed point in time. The end of an era. The end of a race.
So then, the Doctor, protector of the universe, guardian of Earth, the last of the Time Lords, and yet so much more than all that, let out a sigh, and his two Gallifreyan hearts stilled forever.