With a sigh the Doctor walked slowly back to his TARDIS, leaving the empty battlefield behind him, silent under a cloud strewn sky. Shutting the door he set the time rotor in motion and felt the living machine purr under his fingers trying to comfort the man who was not only its pilot but also its constant companion.
"I know old girl, I know," he murmured stroking the console, "but we're neither of us getting any younger. I think, perhaps, that it's at last time to go home." He could feel the regeneration energy surging through his body trying to fix the damage but fought it down until it lay dormant again. No more changes, it was time to finally claim his reward. Time to die.
He made his way down the labyrinthine corridors to the sick bay where he crossed to a locked box he had never needed before, a kind of insurance, just in case. He deftly punched in the numbers and retrieved the vial inside. Gently he slipped it into one pocket and a clean syringe into the other. As the man said he could take it or leave it, he hadn't quite made his mind up yet.
He thought, guiltily, of Ashildr as he made his way back to the control room. This way out he could avail himself of wouldn't work for her as it merely suppressed regeneration. He could never quite forgive her for her part in Clara's death but he berated himself for cursing that poor, innocent girl with immortality. What the hell had he been thinking? He wouldn't wish her fate on his worst enemy. Nobody deserved that.
But he had been so sick of watching them die. Angry at an uncaring universe; insensible to the suffering that all too often was inflicted on the blameless while the guilty prospered. He had wanted to save someone, anyone, like he had before when he had saved the man whose appearance he wore. And for this act of arrogance, carried out with the best of intentions, he had been harshly punished.
He wandered aimlessly round the room, stopping at the electric guitar propped against a chair. He absently gave the strings a twang and listened as the melancholy sound echoed off the walls.
He thought back on all the companions who had graced his ship with their company. The laughter and tears, the thrills and fears. Tegan making sarcastic comments about his navigation, Ace and her homemade explosives, Jamie's constant questions and Zoë's rather condescending answers. In response to his memories the TARDIS obligingly conjured their phantoms from the interface archive until he was surrounded by ghostly figures. Liz taking a scientist's interest in the instruments, Leela her expression fierce but puzzled, Amy and Rory their arms about each other looking on, Rose leaning against the railings laughing, Susan dancing to her music. Tears started in the Doctor's eyes; so many memories, so many lives touched… so much lost.
Then one figure in particular caught his eye in the crowd. She looked as he had known her at the start when he'd had a predilection for ruffled shirts and flowing capes. A girl with wavy brown hair and a no nonsense attitude. The journalist who had accidentally stowed aboard his craft looking for a scoop.
She had been there at that body's end when he had finally returned from Metebelis III suffering from radiation sickness. She had mourned him as he died and witnessed the change into the wild-eyed bohemian in a floppy hat and extra long scarf.
Over their adventures they had grown closer emotionally than he had with any companion before and when they had met again, half a dozen regenerations later, she had been the first to confront him with the human consequences of being suddenly dropped back on Earth after travelling with him for so long.
But she'd done him proud regardless; defending the Earth from her attic in Ealing with those fantastic kids. He smiled despite himself and adjusted the controls, one last visit wouldn't hurt.
The wind whipped around the empty attic room of 13 Bannerman Road as the TARDIS slowly materialised. The Doctor stepped out and stopped dead, the place was deserted; no pictures on the walls, no papers strewn around the place, no exotic gadgets, just a silent house. He took out his sonic glasses and scanned the room, maybe it was another Trickster plot. Nothing. He spun round as he heard feet pound up the stairs behind him. Luke burst in and quickly shut the door behind him.
He took in the much older looking man before him but he could see in his eyes that this was still the Doctor; the same as the man in the long-coat and the younger one in the bow tie.
"Doctor." He said in greeting, slightly awkwardly, dreading the question that he knew was coming next.
"Luke, where is everyone? Where's Sarah Jane?"
"I'm so sorry Doctor, Sarah Jane is dead." He swallowed hard as he watched the blood drain from the Doctor's face. "Cancer took her in the end. The funeral was last week, we tried to get in contact with you but we didn't quite know how."
He stepped forward, alarmed, as the Doctor's legs started to give way. "Here, lean on me, come downstairs I'll make you some tea." Supporting him down the stairs, Luke sat him carefully on the sofa and went out into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Luke heard Clyde and Rani come through the front door as he returned with the tea, their animated conversation dying away as they entered the living room. The old man was a stranger to them, but something about him seemed oddly familiar. They looked at Luke quizzically.
"The Doctor came looking for Sarah Jane, I think Jo was right," Luke whispered gazing sadly at the hunched figure that seemed to be a mere shell of the energetic young man the three of them had last seen. Rani and Clyde exchanged glances but they had met another incarnation of the Doctor before there was no reason, they supposed, why he couldn't do it again.
The three friends sat beside him on the sofa, not really knowing how to comfort him. His eyes held such a haunted look that they couldn't bear to meet them and his whole body seemed to radiate a deep despair.
With an almighty effort the Doctor roused himself, aware of his three young friends looking at him with such concern in their eyes. He tried to smile for them but he could tell from their expressions that he hadn't quite managed to pull it off.
He took his mug of tea off the coffee table but his hands shook so much that he only managed to spill it. He didn't feel the scalding liquid. Luke quickly took the mug from him as he finally buried his face in his hands, great sobs wracking his wiry frame. His friends were torn as whether to comfort him or give him time alone to grieve in peace. But he managed to pull himself together before they could make a decision, although that deep, broken look never left his eyes.
They reminisced for a time; wild tales of Earth bound adventures, battles with living paintings, Slitheen and Sontarans. While the Doctor, although subdued, regaled them with stories of his own; of clashes with Egyptian gods, killer space insects and Loch Ness Monsters, until the rush of memories caused his voice to crack and he had to stop. Gold regeneration energy sparkled at his fingertips briefly before he could hide it and he cursed inwardly at the lapse in concentration as he renewed the fight against this traitorous biological urge to carry on living.
He sat on his hands hoping they hadn't noticed.
"Hey, what was that?" exclaimed Clyde. Damn.
The other two looked quizzically at him. "Doctor? You were sort of glowing. What's going on?" he asked worriedly.
"Nothing," said the Doctor hurriedly, unable to meet their gaze, but he knew this incarnation had never been any good at lying and it was obvious that they didn't believe him now. He folded his hands on his lap with a sigh and looked from Luke to Clyde to Rani thinking how young they were. How could he possibly make them understand?
Not for the first time he envied them their brief spans of life. These children, who he was proud to call his friends, had already done so much with their allotted time, balancing school and friends and family along with protecting the Earth. They still had their whole lives ahead of them and he was sure they could do or be whatever they put their minds to. How could he possibly hope for them, who might not unreasonably believe that a nearly unending supply of life would be a fantastic thing to possess, to understand his desire for an end?
Nevertheless he knew he at least owed them that much, so he drew a deep breath and tried to explain.
"I'm going home…" he began, hesitantly, for once unsure of his words, "and I'm afraid you won't see me again." There was something in the way he said it and the indescribable age in his eyes that betrayed the meaning behind the vagueness of his words.
"No, you can't! Not after Sarah…" Rani cut in tearfully, trailing off slightly shamefacedly before Luke shushed her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was a low blow but the others understood how she felt and silently felt the same fears. 'Without the Doctor and Sarah Jane who would there be to fight for good in the universe'. But even as the thought crossed their minds suddenly they fully grasped what a burden that placed on this man who had done so much already. Surely it was past time for more people to stand up and share that burden.
"It's alright Doctor, we'll look after things, won't we?" assured Luke. Rani and Clyde nodded though both had tears in their eyes. The Doctor gathered his friends in a hug and felt a pang of guilt to be leaving them like this. Nonetheless there were no better people he would entrust the continued safety of the Earth to as these three, and he did not doubt that there would be those who came after them. He knew that they would endeavour to instruct them as Sarah Jane had taught them, hopefully tempering the militarism of the likes of UNIT and Torchwood. It gave him a great sense of reassurance that he was leaving a planet he had come to see as home in such safe hands.
Awkwardly, he broke the hug and started for the stairs back to his TARDIS without another word and Luke, Clyde and Rani watched him go despondently; it felt such a severe blow especially coming so soon after losing Sarah. They heard the familiar wheezing noise as the TARDIS left Bannerman Road for the last time and couldn't help the tears that flowed over their cheeks. The universe without the Doctor and Sarah Jane scarcely bore thinking about.
Inside the TARDIS the Doctor leant heavily on the console feeling all of his thousand plus years. He wouldn't even claim to know exactly how old he was now but he could see an end in sight and it hardly seemed to matter anymore. Next stop Gallifrey, no more detours.
He drew the vial and syringe from his pockets, there were no second thoughts now, only the hope for blessed release. Even now though, he knew there were yet things he needed to do before he could rest. He called up the voice interface. "How long have I got left?"
"You will be dead in two days."
"Ah." The Doctor allowed the regeneration energy to fix quite a bit of the damage before suppressing it again. "How about now?"
"You will be dead in 50 years 2 months."
He could cope with that, what was another 50 years in the grand scheme of things? He drew the liquid from the vial slowly into the syringe and winced as injected it into a vein. There was no going back now and he relaxed at the surrender of responsibility as he felt the regeneration energy dissipating from his body, a great weight lifting from his shoulders.
He materialised back in the catacombs mere minutes after he had left in the other TARDIS. How often had he promised his companions such a feat and failed? The heightened tensions of the past couple of hours broke as he collapsed into hysterical laughter.
"You great tease," he managed through giggles, "you could do it all this time!"
Laughter degenerated into hiccups as he regained his composure and his mood grew morose again, he could see Ohica and the General on the view-screen and it was evident that he would still have to face the music.
The Doctor slowly left the TARDIS and shut the door behind him but stayed where he was, waiting for them to make the first move.
"Where is Clara Oswald?" asked the General, slightly taken aback by a change of demeanour about him that she couldn't quite place.
"She'll be back; Time will be safe I assure you." It pained him to know that this was true but he had come to terms, or at least as far as he could, to the fact of her death. "Ask the temporal engineers for confirmation if you like." The General spoke in hushed tones into her communicator and looked up in surprise at the answer. She met the Doctor's gaze with incredulity and not a little suspicion.
"They tell me that the time line belonging to Clara Oswald has branched out past the fixed point of her death, but that it doesn't seem to be a threat to the fabric of time because it loops back. She will, as you say, return to Gallifrey in the not too distant future, and willingly submit to being returned to her proper place in the web of time. What have you done?"
The Doctor closed his eyes and sighed, "It wasn't me, it was her. It was all her." He dearly wished she hadn't let slip that particular nugget of information, Clara deserved a long, happy life; he hated to think what would cause her to return early. "I will explain, but I suggest we get out of here first. Ghosts should be left in peace, don't you think?"
Wearily, he gave his report as they made their way back to the Capitol building and the General and Ohica managed to listen attentively without interrupting until they arrived at the presidential quarters.
"Why have you returned?" the General asked with a slight hint of disdain, "is this another of your flying visits?"
"No, not this time," he replied sadly and something about his eyes made them pause.
"Doctor?" asked Ohica warily, "what aren't you telling us?"
The Doctor sighed again; did it really need spelling out? The kids had been better at it than this.
"I'm dying," he said bluntly, "several blasts from a Cyber weapon will do that to you; I have maybe fifty years left."
The General narrowed her eyes; there was still something he was holding back. If he was as injured as he said how could the man they had last seen possibly be talking to them now? How could he have fifty years? He should have died or regenerated, unless…
"You're suppressing regeneration aren't you? Why?"
"Because I'm tired!" the Doctor snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Because I'm tired of carrying on while those I care about die around me!" His voice softened as he regained some semblance of control. "Because I need there to be an end."
He gave Ohica a pointed look. A memory surfaced in her mind of stories of a long ago time when there had been a near catastrophe on Karn that the Doctor had prevented, then he had said something similar to the sisters and she cast her gaze to the floor in solemn understanding.
Abruptly he turned and activated the door control, disappearing inside.
