While watching The End of Time, I saw a lot of parallels between Ten and Wilf and Nine and Rose in The Parting of Ways. Both incidents involved the Doctor choosing to sacrifice himself for a human after the danger had already passed, and although the Ninth Doctor didn't say much when he saved Rose, he must have had the same hang-ups as the Tenth Doctor. If he had more time, he might have expressed the same fears about dying and regeneration. But he's the same man. Always.
Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Doctor Who.
The moment she stepped out of the TARDIS, a golden and powerful goddess, he knew what he had to do.
He had known what was coming. He was a Time Lord; he could see every possible future but his own, yet he knew. He always knew. The words haunted his every step, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, no matter how far he tried to run, he understood that this was inevitable.
It always came to a choice.
With the wave of her hand, she wiped the Daleks from existence. I bring life, she said. The Doctor felt the timelines shift and contort as Captain Jack Harkness was ripped from death several floors below. He and the TARDIS shuddered in fear and agony as they sensed his presence. He was wrong. She was wrong. No one was supposed to look into the heart of the TARDIS. Yet here she was, the Bad Wolf in all her glory, ending the Time War, finishing something he would never be able to do twice.
Because that's who you are. You were always this… waiting for me all this time.
And she had done it for him. Rose's Doctor, the TARDIS's Doctor; she had done the impossible to save him. And now she was dying. The vortex was too strong for her fragile human body. And now that the universe was safe once more, he had to decide which of them would die.
Oh, he knew he could regenerate. With luck, he would have enough strength to start anew, release the vortex's power before he combusted, and still be alive— but it wouldn't be the same. It never was. Dying over and over again and it was always agonizing, dizzying, terrifying, an experience he could never get used to. An experience no one should ever have to get used to. Not him, not her. But fate was a cruel mistress, and the ethereal being before him began to tremble. He was running out of time.
You're going to burn, Rose.
Rose Tyler, the pretty, jeopardy-friendly, stubborn, and absolutely fantastic brilliant human was going to die. And he knew what he had to do. But for a split second, he hesitated. For a horrible moment, he considered the possibilities. Of the things he could accomplish within lifetimes he would never see.
His future echoed in the silence of his mind.
I could do so much more!
He had a choice. The future was never concrete. He didn't have to die. He could leave her there, the brave, silly little ape that she was, and he could live on. Alone.
There's me.
And that's when he decided. The memories of the Time War were destroyed in the eyes of the remarkable woman in front of him and he was the Doctor again, the man who made people better. The man who would give up his life for one person even though the storm had already passed. And he would always choose this. Every time.
He stepped towards her I can see prepared to take her deadly gift every waking second terrified and optimistic what is, what was about his future, their future what could be and what must not. And doesn't it drive you mad?
This was it. One song was ending, another beginning. And in the distance, he could hear the pattern repeat.
Wilfred Mott—
Rose Tyler—
It's my honor.
I think you need a Doctor.