A/N: This is set sometime either right before or after Closing Time when the Doctor knows he's approaching his death. He's found a machine that studies dreams by creating a dream sequence and recording data from the dreamer's mind.

"You're going to die." It was a simple statement, one that he had not heard in a while. Well, he hadn't heard the words in a while and believed them. But this time was different- he knew the words were true whether or not he was ready for them to be.

"I know," the Doctor said solemnly. This machine, this lifeless contraption, could not possibly understand life, how dare it tell him he was going to die. That's what he tried to think. But that was too much. He couldn't muster the rage, not even for a machine that had just told him his death sentence. It was a dream machine, a machine that gave you a dream, usually at random, and recorded it for an experiment on the human mind. Or Time Lord mind in this case.

"So we're going to give you one chance to kiss the one person you most want to, the one you now never can," the machine droned. That was unexpected. The Doctor didn't know the machine told you what you were going to dream about before you dreamt. And now what, it was going to guess who he wanted to kiss most? Or was the Doctor's subconscious supposed to substitute in who he most wanted to kiss into the dream? He didn't know.

"So, will it be Rose?" the machine asked. The Doctor was stunned for a moment. It must have already given him preliminary brain scans and found out his thoughts, his past. Perhaps that was how the dreams were built.

"No. I was going to tell her I loved her, sure, but I've moved on. Completely. I wouldn't kiss her if I could," the Doctor replied to the machine with complete honesty. There was no reason to lie, not when he was about to die, not to a machine that just recorded generic data, where his results would get lost in the thousands of other people.

"River, then?" the machine took a second guess. For a man-made machine, it was surprisingly efficient in searching his mind when it came to romantic aspects. The Doctor had to think for a moment if the machine was right or not.

"No… I have a future with her, if I get out of this somehow. There will be many more chances for me to kiss her down the road," the Doctor sighed. Another kiss with River would be nothing of real importance, not when there were supposedly many more recorded in that little blue diary.

"Then who, Doctor?" the machine had given up with the guessing. And the Doctor knew his answer, it was the name that had first popped into his head when the question was asked, the name he'd shoved down into the recesses of his mind.

"Amy Pond. The girl who waited 14 years for me. I never got the chance to kiss her back, and now I never will. No, now I have a future with River. Show me Amy Pond, the girl I can never have, the girl who kissed me first in this regeneration, the girl who never thought I loved her, the girl who is the mother of the woman I'm destined to love. It may be wrong, but that's why I'm doing it now, eh? When I'm about to die," the Doctor gave a sad chuckle. He was a sad, sad man, wasn't he? Asking on his deathbed to kiss a dream version of the woman he'd rejected, the woman who turned out to be River's mother. That was wrong, so wrong, and he knew it. But it was just a dream, wasn't it? Just a dream.

"I'll never have a chance to kiss her back for real, so let me pretend for a moment, let me feel as though I've changed the world," the Doctor whispered. The machine said nothing, but the Doctor noticed that it must have secreted a gas because he found himself blinking longer and gently falling asleep, ready to dream for the last time of his life. Ready to dream of the Scottish woman he could never have and should never want.

And the Doctor dreamed.

A/N: Something completely different for me, and I wanted to try it out. Let me know what you think about it.