A/N: Hey guys, so this is it, the last chapter. And before any of you start coming after me with pitchforks...I am writing a sequel! This just felt like the natural ending point to me for this story. I know that these last few chapters have been terribly sad, but I hope you'll stick around for the sequel because I promise it'll get better...eventually. I won't lie though, I probably won't start publishing the sequel for awhile, I haven't had much time to write it so I'm only about 7 chapters in at the moment. Sorry about that! Lastly, thank you all for your support, it has meant the world to me! Now onwards to the chapter!

Chapter 12: Worse than Others

There was always meant to be an ending for them, she had just never expected it to happen so soon, so quickly. She had been sure that they still had time, even with the beast's words hanging over their heads. That was her mistake, she supposed. When had the universes ever just given her something without taking it away again? She really should have known.

She hated goodbyes, but she found herself desperate for the chance for one now, desperate to see him again, to know he was all right. Sometimes, on her loneliest days, she entertained the idea that the other Doctor had been lying to her, trying to ease her burden, and the truth was that John had fallen inescapably into the void. Those days were always the hardest to get through, when thoughts of him being swallowed up by the equivalent of hell took over her mind. Her sweet and innocent and loving John. The image of him falling ravaged her mind, clawed at her hearts. It formed tendrils of paralyzing fear in her system until she could hardly breathe, hardly move as grief so strong strangled her. No, she had to know for sure that he was safe. She had to get him back. She needed him.

She threw herself into working. She lived each moment in a whirlwind of calculations, a sea of papers, a tower of books, and a waterfall of tea and coffee. She worked endless weeks, the days bleeding together, and her mind getting no closer to the solution, no matter that she did nothing else but work. She didn't eat or sleep, just worked dead on her feet, mind driven to the impossible, impossible goal.

When she'd heard his voice calling for her that first time, she'd almost thought she was imagining it, like she'd imagined hearing his laugh down the corridor, or the sound of his footsteps slapping on the grating, or him quietly mutterings to himself. All things that had made her sleep-addled mind burst forward with heart pounding hope, and left her always with the same unbearable, crushing disappointment and inevitability that he was gone.

She continued to work. His voice came again to her head. The sound of it sad and strangled and desperate, just like she felt, and she cursed her mind for playing such believable tricks on her. She wanted to block it out, but she found herself clinging to it instead; unwilling to let herself forget the sound of his voice.

It was insistent and steadily grew stronger in her mind, coming in small spurts over the passing days. She began feeling hope rise in her chest, despite her mind's desperate warnings that it would only end in disappointment and hearts-ache.

It was calling to her. He was calling to her. He had to be. Somehow, from one universe to the next, through the void, he had found a way to call to her. She clung now desperately to his voice whispering across her mind, and focused with all her might on where the connection was coming from, where it felt the strongest across all of time and space.

She worked again, over the next few days, tracking down the relentless sound of her name, spoken tenderly and longingly over and over. His voice calling her to him became the only sound she knew. It never wavered, it came again and again in bursts over the days as she worked furiously to find him. Hands flying over controls and calculations in frenzied movements. He never gave up calling to her; he had never in all his time with her given up on her. She would not fail him this time.

The Tardis worried over her as she drove herself into the ground to find him. Concern washed over her almost as constantly as his voice sounded in her head. Unspoken messages of please eat or sleep. She gritted her teeth and kept working.

At last the day came when she had tracked it down. She almost collapsed in relief when the Tardis grabbed on to the signal. A beach in Norway. There was a crack, almost undetectable because it was so small and so concentrated on the other side, in their universe, but still a crack, one tiny crack left in the universe. She had overlooked it. He must have found it though, the other Doctor, and thus was able to get John to project his voice across the void. The crack, however, was too small to go through from either side, she knew. This was goodbye. The one she had been desperate for earlier, but now she only felt a crushing disappointment over. She had allowed herself to hope. For one moment she had allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could get him back. Instead she would have to be grateful that she was even getting this last chance with him; It would have to be enough, knowing he was okay.

She began piloting the Tardis, double and triple checking her coordinates to land correctly. The Tardis, sensing her desperation landed gently. Perfectly.

She was running to the doors with such a single minded determination, hand lurching forward to swing the door open, that she stumbled, pitching sideways when she was met with resistance. The Tardis hummed insistently in her head and she growled in anger and frustration, demanding the door open. The Tardis continued to hum comfortingly and pleadingly in her head, trying to make her understand something.

"What!" she yelled out in the domed room in frustration. The Tardis flashed her confusingly enough the image of a mirror in her mind. She blinked.

The Tardis was unyielding, flashing the image again and the Doctor finally gave in and went to find a mirror. She stumbled backwards in shock at what she saw. Her hair was tangled and messy, almost unsalvageable, hanging raggedly a top her head. Her clothes were smeared in oil from the Tardis, the same exact hoody and jeans combo from that horrid day. Her face was dirty with sweat and grime and make-up; her eyes held bruises under them, a combination of running mascara and lack of sleep. How long, she wondered, had it been now? She found that her time sense failed her.

She took in a shuddering breath. What would John think if he saw her like this? He would be horrified, so worried, so disappointed in her for giving up. No, she would not add to his worries, especially when she was the last thing he should be worrying about. She would show him that she was all right, that she was always all right.

She showered, sorted out the mess that was her hair, and dressed. A jacket this time, black and leather over a coral colored shirt. Not something she normally wore and definitely not something she had ever worn around him, but the look seemed fitting somehow, for her mood. Her makeup was light and she applied it with a shaky, half uncaring hand. She practiced what she had to say to him this last time she would see him.

It was with pounding hearts that she stepped out onto the sand, closing the Tardis door gently behind her. The small link in her head, while no longer projecting his voice perhaps, had undeniably grown stronger. She took a few steps forward, examining the surroundings as she waited. It was cold, the wind sweeping across the white sand. A few seagulls were lazily flying over the ocean, arcing and dipping around one another, but there was not a person or footstep in sight.

Then there was a sudden disturbance to her left, the wisp of a presence, and quickly she turned to see him flicker to life in front of her. His body see-through like a ghost. She took in a shaky breath and walked towards him.

"John," she said, her voice full of all encompassing relief.

"Hello." In contrast his voice was shaking as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"Where are you?"

"In the Tardis. Their Tardis. They're here, but they're piloting her right now. Around a supernova, actually. It takes a lot of power to send this projection. They're burning up a sun," he said, voice cracking, "so that we can say goodbye."

"Oh John," she whispered. She closed her eyes against the sudden tears. She had promised herself she would hold it together for him. Once under control she popped her eyes open again to his warm and terribly sad brown gaze, watching her intently. "You look like a ghost," she breathed out.

There was some muffled sound in the background, and John turned to look at something she couldn't see, then he solidified in front of her. "There," he said, "t-the...the Doctor, he boosted the signal with the sonic." He suddenly reached out toward her, his arm coming up as if to cup her cheek. There was more muffled noise in the background and his hand stopped a few inches away. "I can't...he's telling me I can't touch. You're just image," John whispered distressed. His hand fell away again. There was a long pause as they drank the other in, using their eyes to map out where their hands could not.

"You were very lucky," she finally said, after a moment.

"I don't feel lucky," he disagreed, looking away, then back quickly, as if he couldn't bear even that short separation of his eyes from hers.

"Don't say that," she whispered. "You're alive. You could have been swallowed by the void,...If...I couldn't..."

"Hey, shhh. It's okay. I'm okay." His hands twitched by his sides as if he wanted to reach out to her again.

"Are you though? Really?" she asked desperately.

"No," he said after a pause, shaking his head. His eyes were forlorn. "Not really. I miss you. So much."

"I miss you, too."

"How's...how's my dad?" he asked after a long moment. "Have you told him?"

"Yes. He wasn't happy with me. I broke my promise." She looked away, ashamed.

"What promise?"

"To keep you safe."

"You didn't break your promise," John said adamantly. "I'm safe."

"You should be here. You belong here!" she argued vehemently. "And that is all my fault."

"No, it's not! Promise me you won't blame yourself for this. Not anymore! Promise me!"

His face was fierce, as he waited for her to respond. John, her sweet John, who was still trying to look after her, when he was the one stuck in a whole new universe. She nodded, not trusting her voice to lie convincingly enough for him to let it go. He visibly relaxed. "Thank you," he murmured.

"How much time do we have?" she asked. Another muffled sound, then John said brokenly, "Two minutes." She swallowed.

"So," she said, "you've got that lot, then. Rose and the other Doctor. Should keep things interesting."

"I guess," he whispered. Then, "Am I ever going to see you again?" His voice faltered under the weight of the words on his tongue.

"You can't."

"What are you going to do?" His voice was small.

"Oh, you know," she said as flippantly as she could manage, trying not to fall apart. "Same old life. Last of the Time Lords...In this universe anyway." She gave him a small, sad smile.

"On your own?" His eyes were filled with tears. She only nodded. What could be said?

"I-" he started, but his voice broke away, desperation and longing taking him in a choke-hold. His breath hitched, as tears began running down his cheeks and a hand went up to his face to wipe at them. He started again, and said in a watery voice, "I love you."

The Doctor smiled sadly at him, her hearts seizing up painfully, and beating double time in her chest. "Quite right, too." He nodded a little, his eyes dropping from her face to the ground, before looking back up at her again, as if he had expected this, but still couldn't hide his disappointment from her completely.

"And I suppose," she started, slightly hesitant, "if it's one last chance to say it...John Smith-"

She blinked and he disappeared, her mouth still open in a silent 'I,' and the taste of unspoken words still burning on her tongue. She closed her mouth and a few teardrops escaped, slipping quietly down the contours of her face.

She wished in that moment to go back to the room with the windows where she had finally let him in and tell him the truth: there was absolutely no universe where they would get a happy ending...

And some endings would be so much worse than others.