An annoying little plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone and has thus produced this drabble.
I can feel life slipping from me. My fingers are turning cold. Death...
No more regenerations. This was the it.
I lived a long life; too long. And suddenly, I realise three things that hit me in both my hearts, squeezing whatever life was left out of them.
I could've gone back and saved Galiifrey. I could see the orange sky...
I would've helped The Master redeem himself. Prat that he was.
I should've told Rose I loved her.
God knows, she deserved it.
