AN: Right, so…we've skipped to the countdown day. I didn't plan on doing 365 chapters…Anyway. I'm skipping the unnecessary parts; I've also changed the dialogue where it's necessary, to fit the circumstances…and of course, there's the addiction of Owen and Ianto this scene. Plus….it's slightly awkward, but The Doctor obviously isn't the last of the Timelord's when The Master dies, so I guess…well, he'd still be really sad anyway, because they've known each other for so long and he tried to save The Master, but it didn't really work- there is my justification for his despair and shit. You can probably establish from where about in the scene it begins.

/

"You mean…you're just going to keep me?" The Master spat, the very words like acid in his throat; it really was a sickening thought. Extremely so. Ianto and Owen hung back a bit, but still lingered fairly close by. They were watching, listening, trying to give the two elder Timelord's privacy…but ready to intervene if necessary.
"I wish it didn't have to be like this…but it's probably best," The Doctor promised his adversary, regret evident in his tone. The Master didn't reply, he simply sneered.

A gun shot rang out, pulsating around the room thunderously. No one expected it. No one saw it coming. The bullet spiralled across the room, a deadly, red hot piece of metal, smashing into its target within mere seconds. For a few moments, no one knew. No one understood and then…it all came crashing down. The Master tensed, a gasp leaving his lips as he stumbled backwards- only to be caught in the arms of his adversary and lowered to the ground gently. Everything seemed to slow down. Jack moved over to Lucy and disarmed her quickly. Ianto hurried forwards; aiming to join The Doctor and The Master, but his elder brother put a hand on his shoulder and wound an arm around him from behind; effectively stopping him.
"He'll be okay. He'll regenerate…let's just give them a moment. There's really no need to worry though," the elder brother promised, keeping hold of him. The younger Timelord nodded tensely, the pair of them hanging back and watching the scene. They were both worried, despite the elder's words. Snippets of the conversation finally drifted to their ears.

"No," The Master said softly, the defiance in his voice so strong in such a simple word.
"Come on. It's just a bullet- you wouldn't let such a thing kill you," The Doctor prompted, trying to keep calm.
"I guess you don't know me so well," The Master paused and grimaced in pain, his eyes wide and full of pain, making him look crazed. "I refuse."
The Doctor shook his head; refusing to accept the words "Regenerate. Come on. Please! Regenerate! Just regenerate!" he begged, his voice tightening in fear and desperation.

Ianto made to move forwards again, but his brother's grip tightened around him. "Let me go. We've got to help!" he hissed, struggling against Owen.
"He'll convince him. If anyone can do it- it's dad. He just needs a bit of time. He just needs to convince him," the elder brother insisted, keeping a firm hold of him. The younger of the pair continued to struggle; both of them trying to cling on to the fading hope from Owen's words.

"And send the rest of my life imprisoned with you?" They heard the eldest Timelord rasp cruelly.
"Any second now…any second now, little bro- just you watch, he'll regenerate," Owen murmured to the younger Timelord, desperation present in his voice.
"You've got to. It can't end like this! You and me…everything we've done, all we've been through. The Axons? You remember them? And the Daleks? If not for me, regenerate for the boys! We're the last four Timelord's in existence… We need you, I need you! REGENERATE!" The Doctor begged, his voice breaking, his agony almost palpable as a single tear rolled down his cheek- as the pure gravity of what was happening slammed into him. The Master's entire body was tense, his breath coming in short gasps, and his hearts beats slowing. He was finding it harder to speak.

"How about that? I win…" he gasped, a weak, twisted smile of triumph on his face "Will it stop, Doctor?" he stared up at his adversary and gulped in pain; using his last amount of strength to elaborate "The drumming…will it stop?" His last breath left his lips, his hearts carried out their last beats; his eyes rolled back into his head and slumped into his adversary's arms.

At that moment…something within The Doctor broke; the tears he'd been trying to repress escapes from the confines of his eyes and trailed down his face. He pulled The Master body closer, swaying to and fro, clutching him and crying. He buried his face In the dead Timelord's hair and let out a scream of pure anguish.

…

As The Master drew his last breath, defiant until the last, it hit home for the two brothers, that Owen had been wrong. That The Master hadn't regenerated. Tears sprung to Owen's eyes, a tremor shaking his body and his breath catching in his throat, as the gravity, the realisation of what had happened smashed into him like a wrecking ball. Ianto finally stopped struggling, and sagged in his brother's grip- what a method of restrain became a grasp of comfort and support.
"No," he managed, tears slipping down his face. Upon hearing their father's cry of grief and agony, their own sorrow and heartache seemed to grow; as all three of them unintentionally fed off each other's emotions. It was done. It was over. The Year That Never Was had finished- ended…and so had The Master. The Master of all had fallen. And by stopping his plan…all three of them had inadvertently given him a slight push towards his final move.

Theta-Jack-Atrum-Levis-Theta-Jack-Atrum-Levis-Theta-Jack-Atrum-Levis-Theta

Jack had gone to the TARDIS, and Martha had stayed behind on the Valiant- to help with the clean up and because she wanted to be with her family again as soon as she could. The TARDIS was currently parked in a field; further into the grassy area stood three men, gathered around a funeral pyre. The Doctor raised his make shift torch and set the embalmed body alight; he and his sons watching as the flames spread; their faces showing little emotion, but their eyes burning with pain and grief. "I'm sorry, dad," the elder brother said quietly.
"We all lost someone tonight," The Doctor countered blankly. He turned away in anguish and strolled back towards the TARDIS. The brother's followed him, and soon fell into step beside him; all them strolling into the ship. The last three living Timelord's, going into the last living TARDIS.