Prompt I found on tumblr. I haven't written fanfics in so, so long, about two years now…so I hope this proves to at least be decent. It's short, but have fun.

The world was ending, and there was nothing he could do.

Well. Life on Earth was ending, at least.

The Doctor had tried to stop it. Really, he had. But the sonic screwdriver was lost, the TARDIS was taken, and he and Rose were miles from where they needed to be to even attempt stopping the massive alien armada. It was too late. They were out of time. He couldn't save her, he couldn't fly her away in the TARDIS like a hero…not this time.

It was the end of the line.

The Doctor sat with his back against the wall of the mangy hotel they'd found shelter in. He smiled weakly whenever Rose glanced at him but never said anything. What was there to say?

"Doctor, we're gonna get out of this, right? We'll be okay?"

He didn't want to lie.

"Doctor?"

Oh, bloody fuck it. It was probably best to let her have hope in their final moments anyway. "Yes, Rose. Give it a little time, we'll be okay." If there was a heaven, it wasn't technically a lie. Not that he'd be going there, but she would.

She honestly looked very relieved by his reassurance, despite the screaming and explosions coming from maybe three miles away, tops. His hearts broke.

"Okay. Okay. Good. How much longer, d'you think?"

"A few hours, maybe." He stood up and decided to look around the room for something, anything to do. He didn't want to die in silence.

After rummaging around in the drawers for a bit, the Doctor pulled out an old vinyl record, one that would fit the record player conveniently sitting on the other end of the room. He smiled at Rose. "But in the meantime," he said, placing the record on the player and fiddling with the controls, "how about some music, yeah?"

She smiled back at him. "I'd like that."

She was scared. He could tell. But she trusted him, and she trusted that they'd be okay, that they'd actually manage to make it out of this one alive. I'm sorry, the Doctor thought, not this time.

The music began to flood out of the record player, the soft melody a welcome sound for both the Doctor and Rose.

It was a lovely sound. Soft and somber, almost sad, but not quite. Rose didn't even seem to mind the tone; she just closed her eyes and visibly relaxed under the hypnotic melody.

The Doctor had an idea.

"Rose?" he asked. She opened her eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"Do you want to, erm…do you want to dance? With me?"

She looked surprised, but not repulsed, as he had been bracing himself for. "Sure. Okay."

If he couldn't get them out of this, couldn't save this beautiful girl's life, he'd make their final moments together special, if nothing else. She stood and he gently put his arms around her, as she put her arms around his neck. This was a new thing. They were both blushing, but the Doctor reasoned, they'd be dead in about an hour anyway, so did anything matter?

As the lyrics started, they began moving and swaying in a circular motion. There wasn't much room to actually dance, but they made do.

"This is the end,

Beautiful friend.

This is the end,

My only friend, the end."

Bloody hell. How fitting. Could he have made a worse choice in songs? He nervously looked down at Rose, but to his surprise, she seemed completely relaxed, either uncaring or oblivious to the lyrics. Her eyes were closed again and she was smiling gently. She seemed at peace.

Good. He'd done something right today, then.

"Of our elaborate plans, the end.

Of everything that stands, the end.

No safety or surprise, the end.

I'll never look into your eyes, again…"

By the end of the song, the Doctor was tearing up. He desperately tried not to let it show, not wanting to alarm Rose or show just how bad of a situation they were in, but to his surprise, a tear rolled down her cheek as well. She smiled, but it wasn't a good smile; it was a smile devoid of hope. A sad smile.

A smile of resignation.

"We're not getting out of this one, are we, Doctor?" she asked, rubbing her hand on his arm as they laid on the bed together.

"No, Rose." They had about thirty minutes left, he guessed, give or take. No sense in lying now.

There was a sharp intake of breath, then a laugh. "Okay," she said. "Okay."

"Okay?" He looked at her confusedly.

"Yes. Okay." She nodded. "I'm okay with that."

"I'm sorry it came to this, Rose."

"No, it's—we all have to die sometime, Doctor. And I knew, I knew a day would come where there would be nothing you could do, and that's okay." She laid her head on his chest. "'S okay. Not your fault."

The Doctor rested his chin on Rose's head. He felt quite comfortable, given the situation. "I know. I know. But I never thought that day would be today, and I never thought that I'd perish in an old motel room…" He laughed. It was forced. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have saved you. I've had a long life. You haven't. This shouldn't be your time."

"Honestly, Doctor…I'm not sure if I'd want to be alive knowing you were dead out there somewhere."

And that was that. They waited in silence for the remainder of their time, huddled up in a washed up depressing looking motel. But if nothing else, they had each other.

When the Doctor heard the screams getting louder, explosions getting closer, he held his companion close. "I love you," he mouthed, "I love you, and I'm sorry."