The Doctor glances down at the orange light dancing around her hands. Something's wrong, it can't seem to take hold of her. The glow fades away like a dying fire, and the Doctor is left with nothing but a single failing heart and the gentle hum of the TARDIS enveloping her old, weak body.
"So this is it," she says aloud to nobody in particular. Her voice is raspy and she tries to remember what she sounded like before, youthful and excited, the whole universe at her feet. She can't recall the sound. She places her hands on the TARDIS console so that she doesn't have to bear her weight alone. A sigh fills the room. Why did she let it all whizz past her so quickly? Why didn't she ever take a moment to stop and breathe and remember?
"I thought there was time." She laughs.
Just then the TARDIS leaps into motion. Levers and dials are pulled and turned by invisible hands. The Doctor briefly wonders if there are ghosts in the TARDIS, then shakes her head at the thought. Everyone else is long gone. It's just her and the TARDIS, like it's been all along. All the others were just passing through. Most of their names and faces have long since faded from her memory, but she remembers loving them, and she remembers that they made her better. She hopes she made them better too. All these lifetimes had to be for something.
The Doctor is pulled from her introspection by the familiar sound of the TARDIS materializing. "Where have you taken me this time old girl?" The TARDIS replies by growing quieter until the only sound left is the Doctor's own ragged breath. The lights flicker out. "To the end then." She runs her hands along the console soothingly and smiles sadly at the quiet darkness around her.
With some effort the Doctor manages to pull herself to the door and cracks it open to be greeted by the gentle dawn light of some sleeping city. The walls of the TARDIS have closed in around her. There's nothing left of the Doctor's oldest friend but four cramped blue walls. There's only one way forward now.
She steps out onto the pavement and feels the ground beneath her feet, hurtling round the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour. Earth. "You've brought us home." Her trembling legs can no longer hold her up, so she lets her body sink to the ground and her head slumps against the lifeless blue box, eyes skyward. A few stars remain in the early twilight. The Doctor turns her gaze towards the horizon.
"I've seen enough stars. Just give me one last sunrise."