(Since I've been away for a while, this is a little make-up piece. May become a two-shot depending on wither people like it or not. :P. Set after Journey's End. Enjoy!)

(This story/chapter is dedicated to my unofficial beta, the wonderful Raura-chan. It's not exactly the cheeriest piece, but I count it as some of my better work, after Carpeted Floors and Parrots. This goes to you for being a brilliant friend, brow-beating me with constant encouragement throughout this story and others and for believing in me when I didn't. Thank you!!!)

"You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons... This is my final victory, Doctor. I have shown you yourself."

The liquid dripped under the grills of the TARDIS floor. For a second, it passed through the beam of moonlight flooding into the control room from the double windows above the door. The falling drop resembled a tear is it shimmered in the pearly light. It was soon joined by a second, and a third. The drops shattered against the crossed metal, springing upwards before disappearing into the dark caverns below the grill.

The TARDIS was silent, as she had been for months. After she had left the Noble household, all the heart seemed to leave her Time Lord. The smiling, laughing mask fell away to show the Doctor's true feelings. His true self. His monstrous nature unveiled to the universe. At first, the lone Time Lord tried to live as he had, travelling from planet to planet, system to system including Earth and Mars. He saved more people, but yet more died due to his efforts. In the beginning, he tried to wash away the guilt and blame with new people, new adventures and problems, but, inevitably, they all where ruined. Everything he touched burned and died. He committed mass murder three times during that period. At the time, that hadn't occurred to him as he toiled to bring around the destruction. When his actions caught up with him, he locked himself in the TARDIS. Trying to ignore the blood on his hands and the dying screams of thousands of species'. Trying to lock away the monster in him, that is him. Trying to hide his hideous facade from everyone, including himself.

The Doctor slumped against the control panel. Of all the decisions he had had to make, this one by far had been the easiest. The decision to finally let Gallifrey and her legacy rest in peace. He had done enough damage. The Doctor, if the Time Lord wasn't so weak, he would have snorted. Who did he think he was fooling with that name? Had he really thought that he could hide all the deaths he caused behind the pretence of good. The Doctor- the man who makes people better. An acrid taste rose in the Doctor's mouth. He'd done anything but make people better. He made them into controlled monsters, subservient beings that would happily kill in his name.

His double hearts began to slow their samba beat. The hectic pulse that had sent him catapulting across the galaxies in a whirlwind of adventures, leaving a trail of fire and devastation in his wake. But no more. This is where it would end, before he could make a wreckage of anything else.

The Doctor fell to his knees as a new wave of pain raced it's way up his arms. His breathing hitched as the wounds across his lower arms smarted and stung. The cuts crossed and zigzagged across his skin, growing deeper further up. He wasn't taking any chances. The Doctor had stopped so many rampages in his times. The Daleks, the Cybermen, The Racnoss, The Sycoracs and so many others. He felt it was kind of ironic that the last race he would destroy would be his own, again.

The world dimmed behind the Doctor's eyes. Until his first regeneration, he always thought that dying would be one of the most frightening experiences of his life. It wasn't. Dying was the easy part, the hard part was to make sure that you didn't come back again afterwards. He'd taken measures to ensure that he didn't return. His hands grasped two electrodes connected to the control panel. All his regenerative energy would be siphoned off and fed into the TARDIS. Just because he was making a penance for his crimes didn't mean he would let her die along with him. His last act would be one of the few acts of good in his 927 year long lifetime.

The Time Lord hadn't realised he had hit the floor until he felt the cold metal grille cutting into his flushed cheek. Something similar to tranquillity entered his soul. He was finally able to drop the act. No more would he have to smile when secretly his hearts where breaking. No more would he have to keep his cool when he felt like destroying everything in sight. Now, he would have to be the 'shining beacon' of good for the inhabitants of the universe to rally around. Now, he could just be himself, just be Theta.

As the Doctor's world began to dissolve into darkness, the last experience he had was hearing the roar of the TARDIS's engines and shaking under him as the TARDIS landed somewhere new. One last trip, he thought, while sinking into oblivion. The Doctor wore a peaceful smile before silence replaced the sound of the Doctor's twin heartbeat.

And so The Doctor died, Gallifrey's legacy finally ended, the oncoming storm was calmed and the Lonely Angel took his leave of this world.

(Quote for this chapter: "But my eyes, their secrets keep, as my wrist, it's red tears weep.")

(Since this is the first fic I've written like this, I realise that there might (more like will) be parts that aren't right or don't fit properly. Any criticism is welcome as long as it would help. I'm always willing to listen to good advice.)