Chapter 9: A Kiss for Farewell

What was it all for?

One press of a button and Gallifrey had burned. One press of a button and the Dalek fleet had burned. A million ships had burned, except for one. The most important one. He had committed genocide, killed his people, and for what?

Nothing.

The monsters lived. The Emperor lived. The Daleks lived. His people had died. What was it all for?

Once again, there was no time. The fate of the universe rested in his hands, and he had to choose. Once again, he had a choice.

The universe or the Daleks? Life or death?

He stared at the wires in his hands in despair. He could save the world, but lose Rose. No chances, no possibility of escape. Not for her. Not for him. Not for Jack.

Death made victims of them all.

He tore at the wires, ripping them from their casings. No. He would not allow that to happen.

"Suppose..." Rose's voice trailed off.

"What?" he asked, proud that his voice did not shake. Proud that he did not show his fear. Not for himself, never for himself, but for her. For Jack. For the entire human race.

"Nothing," she said with a brief sigh.

"You said 'suppose'," he prompted as he spliced together two wires. Tricky thing, jiggery-pokery. Especially when it might mean the end of the world.

"No, I was just thinking... I mean, obviously you can't, but... you've got a time machine. Why can't you just go back to last week and warn them?"

"Soon as the TARDIS lands in that second, I become part of events. Stuck in the timeline." He had thought about it. Of course he had.

"Yeah, thought it'd be something like that..." Rose replied.

He looked at her, his hands stilling on the wires. "There's another thing the TARDIS could do... it could take us away..." He could offer. Of course he could, and even if she did accept he would return. There were some responsibilities that couldn't be shirked. Some responsibilities to the universe that he couldn't ignore.

She glanced briefly at him with a small smile.

"We could leave. Let history take its course. We go to Marbella in 1989." So many choices, so many times. He could choose that, for a brief moment he could escape. Yet he could not run. Not this time. Not now. Not from this.

Rose said, in a soft voice, "Yeah, but you'd never do that."

He smiled faintly as he met her eyes for the first time. "No, but you could ask." She could always ask. But she didn't reply.

He was so proud of her. In that moment he knew. This was Rose. His Rose - the Rose of all his selves. Right under his nose, she'd become the Rose he'd met throughout his past lives. Which meant that this was the endgame. His endgame. "Never even occurred to you, did it?"

"Well, I'm just too good!" She grinned.

A warm smile crossed his face. She was. Absolutely.

That was when he heard the whirr of one of the computers and he turned, alert.

"The Delta wave's started building. How long does it need?" He leapt to his feet and darted to the computers, plonking himself down on one of the chairs.

He pressed a few buttons and found the truth. This was his endgame. Not enough time. Never enough time. His expression fell.

Rose asked anxiously, "Is that bad?"

He couldn't answer. Not now. She would die if she stayed. They all would. Jack and he, too. There was no way out, except one he would never take.

"Okay, it's bad. How bad is it?"

One choice. If she stayed, she would die with him. She would die with all of them. She had to go. She had to survive. To save him, all of him, his future, the universe, she had to survive. He, however... he was expendable.

He chose. One last deception. One last manipulation. In his mind, he whispered his apologies as he grinned manically at her. "Rose Tyler, you're a genius!"

She grinned brightly and he gave in. Just this once. Just this one last time, he gave in. He planted a smacking kiss on her forehead. "We can do it! If I use the TARDIS to cross my own timeline... yes!"

He ran toward the TARDIS with her close behind. She had no idea. None at all.

Inside his ship - his beautiful ship - he heard the tone of the TARDIS' hum change. She knew, even though Rose didn't. She knew what he intended.

Still grinning, still lying, he pointed at a lever. "Hold that down and keep position."

"What's it do?" Rose asked as she did as he told her.

The lie came easily, for it had some measure of truth. "Cancels the buffers. If I'm very clever - and I'm more than clever, I'm brilliant - I might just save the world. Or rip it apart..." What he didn't tell her was that it cancelled the buffers that prevented external control. His control. His settings. Emergency Programme One.

"I'd go for the first one," she said.

It took him a moment to remember the lie. His grin widened. "Me too. Now, I've just got to go and power up the Game Station. Hold on!"

He bounded outside and the doors shut behind him. He kept up the appearance until the moment when he could turn away from her. Now, he could show the truth. Now, his face fell. This was it.

Endgame.

He pointed his sonic screwdriver at the TARDIS and listened to her engines begin to groan.

Her voice cried out desperately, filtered through the TARDIS doors, "Doctor, what're you doing? Can I take my hand off? It's moving."

No choice at all. His hand remained steady.

"Doctor, let me out! Let me out! Doctor, what've you done?"

Her voice faded as both she and the TARDIS disappeared into the vortex. Only then did he allow his hand to drop. Only then did he allow his sorrow to move to the forefront of his mind. Only then did he turn away.

Goodbye, Rose.

Endgame.

He stared defiantly at the Dalek Emperor, his hands clenched onto the handle of the Delta Wave device.

"Prove yourself, Doctor. What are you? Coward or killer?" The Dalek's scratchy tones taunted him, tormented him. How many had he killed? How many had died?

Why did the Daleks survive?

He looked at the bundle of wires and connections that comprised what could be the universe's salvation. He could end it now. Destroy the Daleks, save the universe, and condemn mankind in one blow.

Endgame.

Could he do it? Could he commit genocide? Again? He had done it once, killed his people, to try and stop the Daleks.

He had failed. What was there to say that he wouldn't do the same this time? This second, this moment, this breath of time. Could he kill again? His face contorted in silent reflection of his inner agony. Life or death. Coward or killer.

What was he?

What was the measure of his existence? What was the meaning of his life, this life? To be a killer?

No.

Not again. Though there was no time. Though truly only one choice lay before him, he could not do it.

Not again.

Never again.

"Coward. Any day." This was how it was supposed to go. This was how it would end.

Endgame.

He watched his executioners roll into the room. A sea of Daleks. A sea of giant pepperpots of death.

It was not supposed to end like this.

"Mankind will be harvested because of your weakness." The Dalek Emperor replied, his voice full of satisfaction.

"And what about me? Am I becoming one of your angels?" he asked scornfully. To become a Dalek? To become one of them? Never.

"You are the Heathen. You will be exterminated."

Extermination. No way out. Even the miracle of the Time Lords could not save him this time.

It was not supposed to end like this.

Endgame.

"Maybe it's time," he replied, closing his eyes and holding out his hands in silent acceptance of the inevitable. There was no way out. None at all.

"Alert! TARDIS materialising!" The Dalek's voice was agitated as it reported the impossible.

Impossible!

He had sent her away, sent her home. He had kept her safe. His eyes snapped open and he spun in shock.

The TARDIS was materialising. His ship had returned, and with her, he knew, came Rose.

Rose.

No. No, no, no, no. Not like this.

The TARDIS doors flew open in a blaze of golden light, blinding him as he stumbled backwards. The vortex, it was the vortex, but how?

Rose.

He could see Rose, bathed in gold, eyes of gold, surrounded by tendrils of golden energy. She stepped out of the TARDIS, swirls of light curling in her wake.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not like this. He barely noticed when he tripped and fell to the ground. Not Rose.

She was full of the power of the vortex. Her tiny human mind couldn't cope, could never cope. Not with that much energy. Not with that.

His hearts began to break. "What've you done?"

Her voice, Rose's voice, was overlaid with something else. Someone else. "I looked into the TARDIS. And the TARDIS looked into me."

He was right. Why did he have to be right? Why did he have to be right about this? "You looked into the Time Vortex - Rose, no one's meant to see that."

"This is the abomination! Exterminate!" Dalek voices blurred in the background and he watched as a beam of deadly energy lanced toward Rose.

No time. He could do nothing. There was no time.

No time!

But there was. There was time. She stopped it. Somehow, someway, she stopped it. He stared at her in amazement.

"I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words... I scatter them in time and space. A message to lead myself here." All that power contained in her tiny human mind. All that power, and it was killing her.

No.

"Rose, you've got to stop this. You've got to stop this now." Please let her stop. His voice was desperate as he continued, "You've got the entire vortex running through your head. You're gonna burn."

And it was his fault. His. Only his. She was going to burn, and he had to stop her. Somehow, someway. He had to.

She looked directly at him, tears tracing a perilous course down her cheek. For a moment, the otherworldliness of her visage disappeared. It was just Rose staring into his eyes. His Rose.

"I want you safe. My Doctor. Protected from the false god."

She was doing this for him. For him. What had he done? Oh, what had he done?

Rose.

"You cannot hurt me. I am immortal!" the Emperor Dalek protested.

"You are tiny. I can see the whole of time and space - every single atom of your existence, and I divide them. Everything must come to dust... all things. Everything dies." Around him the Daleks separated into golden particles. Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. Like Rose, when he had thought her dead. However, now, she was dying before his eyes. Dying because of the vortex.

Dying because of him.

"The Time War ends."

Rose.

"I will not die. I cannot die!" The Emperor Dalek's voice rose in fear before he, too, died in a blaze of golden particles.

"Rose, you've done it. Now stop." Please stop. Stop, stop, stop. So much energy, so much power, all in the palm of her hand. She had to stop.

She had to, or she would die.

Rose.

"Just let go."

"How can I let this go? I bring life..." Her expression and voice were blissful. Absolute power coursed through her veins. Absolute power.

No. He could not allow this to continue.

"But this is wrong! You can't control life and death!" Fear pounded a staccato beat beneath his chest. His hearts raced. She couldn't. Absolute power. Oh, Rose...

She looked at him again. "But I can. The sun and the moon... the day and night. But why do they hurt...?" Her voice trembled.

No, no, no. Not like this. "The power's gonna kill you and it's my fault." The universe would end without her. He would end without her. No. No, no, no.

Another tear fell down her face. "I can see everything. All that is... all that was... all that ever could be."

He clambered to his feet and stared at her in complete understanding. For a moment, just a moment, she knew what it was like to be him. Possibilities stretched to infinity before him, and he knew what should happen. What must happen.

"That's what I see. All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?" he asked, though he suspected she couldn't understand.

All that power...

Oh, Rose.

"My head..." She was terrified. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.

"Come here..." he said.

"...it's killing me..."

Not if he could help it. And he could.

"I think you need a Doctor," he said as he took her hands within his own. The universe would end - he would end - because he had failed.

He had failed because he had never met the future version of the woman within his arms. He had failed because he hadn't given her his psychic imprint.

He had failed. His next self would die. But he couldn't allow her to die. Not after this. Not after everything they had been through together.

He was willing to give it up. He was willing to die.

For her.

Always for her.

Endgame.

He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. One last kiss before he was gone.

One last touch of her hands within his. One last feel of her living, breathing body within his arms.

One last time.

It was worth it. All of it was worth it. Every moment, every second, every breath.

It was worth it, and he smiled.

This was how his ninth universe ended: with a kiss.

THE END

End Notes: I'd just like to take a moment to thank my fabulous co-author, WMR, for letting this old schooler join her in this endeavour and for letting me bring in the Brig and Seven for cameos. ;) It's been a blast. And, finally, I'd like to thank you, our readers, for staying with us through all "10" chapters (including the prologue ;)) of this story and for all of your fabulous comments. Just like Nine, I have to say, 'You were fantastic.' Thank you! - Gillian Taylor