Dedication: This one goes to Laheara. Thanks for the help with the clips – you rock a zillion!
11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself
Chapter Four: She Came Back, and He Gave Her His Life
"You are the heathen. You will be exterminated."
It fits, somehow. He looks down, the verdict of the Dalek god settling into his mind. He'd smile, but he can't bring himself to. Ten million ships burning around him keep him from that simple act.
"Maybe it's time," he says, stepping back from the lever. And maybe it is. After nine hundred years, maybe it's finally time for the Doctor – the renegade, the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds – to die. And maybe he's ok with that.
He closes his eyes, and in his mind he's back on his TARDIS, reliving the last moments of the war. He sees a switch, so similar to the one lying before him, waiting for him to flip it. He hears the screams in his mind – Time Lord, Gallifreyan, TARDIS…even the Daleks. The worlds in his little galaxy, screaming out in torment as they watch their neighbor struggle to survive. Most are already dead themselves – all will be when he's flipped that switch.
And then they're screaming for a different reason, but in the end it isn't really. They had screamed in death and pain and dying before, but it had been because of the Daleks. Now they scream because of him – because he's just flipped the switch that will kill them all, Gallifreyan and Dalek alike. The Time Lords are dying because of him. The Gallifreyans who aren't yet Time Lords are burning along with them, and he sees it all over again. His home – home, even if it had exiled him and scorned him and had refused to claim him as its own – is dying. And he's just pushed the button that made it happen. Flipped the switch. Pulled the lever.
They're dead now, and it's all because of him. His mind is empty, quiet, and he has no one to blame but himself. Himself and the Daleks, the stinking Daleks that never die no matter what. Burn them, and their Emperor hides away. Rebuilds from human refuse. Creates new Daleks. And he can't even pull the lever that will kill them for good, because his mind is empty.
If he flipped the switch again, another world would die. The world that, in a way, was more of a home to him than Gallifrey ever was. He watched Gallifrey burn – made it burn – and this is what he's been reduced to. How could he make the Earth burn? But his mind is still empty.
There are no more Time Lords to reach out to him – not Susan, not Romana, not any of the pompous senators who had banished him, not even the Rani or the Master. There's not even a single Gallifreyan left to tickle the edges.
There's only one TARDIS left, but it's thousands of years away – safe, with the one that cared too much and smiled too brightly and made him dance.
He's alone, and yes, maybe it is time. The Daleks will kill him, and he won't regenerate. The last Time Lord, about to rejoin the others and make their race nothing more than a myth. It's time, and he thinks maybe he likes it.
The wheezing of his TARDIS returns to his mind, and he smiles as he feels her reaching for him across time. She knows he will die, but she won't accept it – not like he has. She reaches for him, and he pushes her back. It's ok. It's time.
"Alert! TARDIS materializing!"
His eyes snap open at the gravelly bark, and he whirls around to see her fading in, her blue light a beacon in the dark satellite. A rush of panic and worry fills him; the Daleks will get her. They'll kill him and they'll get his TARDIS, and it won't end. They'll ravage time and space all over again, and no one will be there to pick up the pieces.
But she's washing over his mind, calling out to him in a soothing song. It will be all right, she says. The Daleks will not win. It will be all right.
"You will not escape!" he hears the Emperor scream, but it's the farthest thing from his mind. He didn't want to. He had sent Rose and the TARDIS away because he knew he wouldn't. Because it was time.
And amid the chaos that has flourished in his mind – the memories of the dying, the burning, the screaming; the gentle reassurances of his magnificent TARDIS; the raging voice that just wanted to give up – one thought sticks out. He had sent the TARDIS and Rose away. Rose. Where was she? Had the TARDIS somehow returned, on her own, after leaving Rose in her own time? What had happened to Rose?
And before he can wonder any more, the doors burst open in a flash of golden light, and he can't face it. He steps back and throws his arms up, shielding himself from the golden glow – but not before he sees her, standing in the light like a mythic being, like an angel. His angel, Rose Tyler.
"There's me."
He looks up, just to make sure, and there she is. His eyes widen at the glow, the same glow he had seen in every smile she had given him come to life in a swirling mass of life and time – but there's no smile on her face this time, and suddenly he's afraid, more afraid than he had been moments before when the Dalek god had issued his death sentence.
Tendrils of light move around her, pulsating and writhing in a familiar dance, and he stumbles back as she disintegrates, merging with the light as millions of flecks of golden dust. No. Already he knows what she has done, but he can't accept it. He takes another step back, and he bumps into the machinery behind him. He grabs at it as he falls to the floor, but his eyes never leave the dust and light Rose has become. No.
It will be all right.
The light fades, receding into the TARDIS but still swirling just at the edges. And suddenly she's there again, back together and standing above him, and he looks up at her as pure, unadulterated terror courses through his veins. She looks down at him, and he sees the gold swirling in her eyes. Again he knows, but again he denies it. He can't accept it – it's not time, not for her. He will die – he's ok with it – but not her. Not his Rose.
…his Rose?
"What have you done?!" he asks, and her mouth moves slightly. Like she can't breath, can't comprehend what's happening around her. What have you done?
"I looked into the TARDIS," she says, and his blood chills at the hollow echo of her voice. It's not her voice, not his Rose's voice; she's there, somewhere, but suddenly he knows that this is not the girl that has been traveling with him for the past year. Part of her, yes, but something else – something ancient. The Vortex – time itself – surging through her. His Rose – his Rose! – caught up in a maelstrom of time. "And the TARDIS looked into me."
"There's me."
"You looked into the Time Vortex, Rose," he says, his voice pleading for the girl he knows – the Rose he knows. She's in there, and he knows it, but he doesn't feel like he can reach her now. She's trapped beneath the Vortex, and he can feel it – see it. She's burning, just like they did before her. She's dying, and again he'll be alone – because there's no one else, not even her. "No one's meant to see that!"
"This is the abomination!" he hears the Dalek god scream, and only a tiny part of him takes satisfaction in the knowledge that he's terrified, too. But it's for a different reason, he knows – the Emperor is scared because he knows he will die. He is scared because he knows she will.
"Exterminate!" a Dalek shouts, and he sees the death ray shoot out. He bites back the bile as the voice echoes in his head, merging with all the others to create one solid memory in his mind.
Miles beneath the ground in Utah, chained and dying and waiting for orders that will never come – the last Dalek, or so he had thought at the time. Henry van Statten, so proud to pull the stars to him and lock them underground with labels. His Rose, so proud to cling to his arm as he showed her the stars van Statten wanted to horde. His Rose, trapped with a fully functional Dalek just seconds away.
"It wasn't your fault – remember that, ok? It wasn't your fault."
But it was. He had pushed the button. He always pushes the button, and someone always dies. Now Rose, his Rose, and just like them it's his fault. But she won't let him believe it, not his Rose. She's too nice for that. Too kind. She cares, too much – too much for someone like him.
"And…you know what? I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
Can she still say that? He doesn't know how she could say it then, and he doesn't know how she could now – she's burning, dying. Because of him. Because he had taken her hand and told her to run. Because he had gone back and asked her again. Because he had seen her smile and wanted more. Because she had danced with him and the universe hadn't imploded.
Because somewhere along the way, she had reached right past his hand and had grabbed at his hearts, forcing them to beat again after he had flipped a switch and made them stop.
She's dying because he was selfish.
"Exterminate!"
"I killed her."
And he's doing it again.
"She was only here because of me…"
But he had sent her away this time – why had she come back? She wasn't supposed to be here – he was supposed to die! It was his time, not hers!
"You're about as far from the stars as you can get! And you took her down with you…"
Hasn't he done the same now? The Oncoming Storm, and he's blown her away in his wake. It's his time to die, and he's taken her down with him.
"She was only here because of me…"
His eyes widen as the death ray hits her hand, and he jerks his head around to stare at the Dalek as the ray seems to move in reverse. Backwards, manipulated into never having left the ray stalk. She's burning with time, and she's controlling the Daleks. They can't touch her now. They can't kill her.
But she's killing herself.
"I am the Bad Wolf," she says, and he looks back to her, jerking his head around. He ignores the twinge in his neck the rapid motion gives him – it doesn't matter now. He hears the words in his head, but he can't place it. Bad Wolf is nothing – just two words that they keep running into.
"Everywhere we go, two words following us. 'Bad Wolf'."
She can't be 'Bad Wolf' – it's just words. A bit of graffiti on the side of the TARDIS. A broadcasting network. A nuclear plant. It's just words – just words.
"Nah, just a coincidence. Like hearing a word on the radio then hearing it all day."
"I create myself," she says, and he sees her look to the sign on the wall. 'BAD WOLF CORPORATION'. Bad Wolf. "I take the words."
It's niggling in the back of his mind, clicking into place even as it folds out before him. His hearts still as he watches her eyes, and somehow he knows. It wasn't just a coincidence – it never is, not with him.
"I scatter them," she says, and she waves her arm across her eyes. His stomach knots; he wants to deny this, to deny the being standing before him as Rose. He sent her home – she shouldn't even be here! Why did she come back? Why is she doing this to him – to herself? "In time and space. A message to lead myself here."
No.
It was her, all along. Pieces of a puzzle, all to bring her back when he sent her away. He forces himself to breathe as he watches her, and he can't bear it. Jeopardy-friendly, that's what he had called her. And he had been so right. He sends her to safety, and she comes back. She makes it possible. She absorbs the bloody Vortex and becomes the very message that had following them all this time. She comes back.
But it's not right; it shouldn't be playing out like this. She's only nineteen, and human, at that – she can't control it. It will kill her. It's not her time. She can't die – not for him, never for him.
"She was only here because of me…"
"Rose, you've got to stop this!" he cries, but he knows she can't hear him. She's too far beyond him, consumed in time and burning – just like them. "You've got to stop this now!"
He can't lose her, not like them. He can't be alone again.
"You've got the entire Vortex running through your head – you're gonna burn!" he pleads, though he knows it won't work. She's already burning, always burning – can't she feel it? Can't she hear him?
"I want you safe," she says suddenly, turning to him, and it's Rose looking at him, not the Bad Wolf. His Rose, watching him with those eyes he doesn't deserve to stand under, so full of care and concern for him, the one who could never deserve it. She's dying because of him, but still she comes back for him. Still she burns for him. Why? Why does she care so much? "My Doctor. Protected from the false god."
And all too quickly, she's the Bad Wolf again. His Rose is once more lost under the torrents of time, and again he feels his hearts halting, stopping as she's pulled from him. He sent her away to prevent this – to keep her safe.
"I want you safe. My Doctor."
No, no, no, no…this can't be how it all ends. No!
"You cannot hurt me – I am immortal!" the Dalek Emperor sounds so far away, but still he registers on the outskirts of his mind. He doesn't care anymore; the Daleks can win – haven't they already? He needs the Bad Wolf to leave Rose. He needs Rose safe.
"I want you safe."
"You are tiny!" the Bad Wolf cries, looking up to the screen showing the Emperor, and a chill races down his spine at the anger in her voice. So angry, yet so sure – she knows. "I can see the whole of time and space."
"You're gonna burn!"
"Every single atom of your existence – and I divide them!" she cries, and she raises her hand as the golden glow returns to her eyes, hiding any trace of what could be Rose. He sees the Dalek that had fired at her collapse in on itself, disintegrating into the same golden flecks she had. But he knows it won't return – she won't let it. She controls it all, burns with time and knowledge and she can destroy them all.
She will destroy them all, including herself – all for him. Because she wanted him safe.
"I killed her…"
"Everything must come to dust," the Bad Wolf whispers, her body just barely shaking – and he can see it already taking its toll. She can't handle it – she's dying, burning. Because of him.
"It wasn't your fault."
But it is. It always is.
"All things. Everything dies," she says, and he follows her gaze as she raises her arms, looking to the other Daleks. And just like the first, she destroys them, turning them into that golden dust. Erasing them from time and space – erasing their very existence. "The Time War ends."
She says it with such a finality he can't help but believe her. He knows she's right, and not because the Vortex is controlling her – not because she's Bad Wolf, but because he can see her. He can see his Rose standing in the middle of it all, so determined to protect him – even to the point of killing herself. But he still can't accept it.
"I will not die!" the Emperor screams, but he can't help but notice the fear in the grating voice. The great Dalek Emperor, the self-proclaimed god of all Daleks…scared of a human. A human teenager, a girl – his Rose. The Emperor knows he will die, and he is afraid. He takes a bit of comfort in that.
"Maybe it's time."
"I cannot die!" the metallic voice is in pain, screaming out against the fate it knows it cannot fight. The Dalek Emperor – the Dalek god – dying, after all these years. And because of his Rose – because of the Bad Wolf.
All of the Daleks, every last one, erased – reduced to nothing more than dust in time. She's completed her task, but still the Bad Wolf stands before him. Still his Rose burns, and still he can't feel his hearts beat. It can't end like this – she can't die, not like this. Not because of him.
"I killed her."
Not like them.
"Rose, you've done it – now stop," he says, watching her, pleading with her. Stop before you burn. Stop before you die. Stop before I'm alone. "Just let go!"
"How can I let go of this?" she asks, and he can't tell who's speaking – Rose or the Bad Wolf. Her eyes glow, and something screams out in the back of his mind – something wrong, something terrible about to become because of her. "I bring life."
He can feel it, even before it's fully happened. Below them, something fixed – something wrong. Jack? No. She wouldn't – couldn't – do it.
But she's the Bad Wolf, and the Bad Wolf is Rose.
And Rose loved Jack.
"But this is wrong!" he screams at her, the Time Lord emerging in a fury of outrage against the fact. He had died. She can't bring him back – she can't fix his existence like…it's all wrong, and it's all his fault.
"I want you safe."
"You can't control life and death!" he cries, and she looks at him, her eyes losing the glow as Rose emerges. Rose doesn't care – Rose wants them both safe.
"But I can – the sun and the moon, the day and the night…" she says, and he feels his eyes widen in terror. Flashes of Reapers and car crashes dart across his mind, and he wonders what else she will bring back with the power of the Bad Wolf. It's all coming apart, all unraveling around him and he can't stop it – can't stop her. "Why do they hurt?"
"The power's gonna kill you, and it's my fault," he shouts, begging her to understand. He looks away, unable to face her as she watches him through her tear-filled eyes. He can't take it, can't take her – it's all too much. He sees her dead in his mind, just like them – burned out of existence, and all because of him.
"I want you safe."
"It wasn't your fault – remember that, ok?"
"I killed her."
"I can see everything," she says, and he looks up at her, the screaming voices suddenly silenced in his mind. Again he feels the TARDIS ghost over him, her gentle reassurances calming his fear. And just as suddenly as hope had left, he knows what he must do – the only thing he can do, the only way to save her from burning. The only way to save her from dying.
"All that is, all that was…all that ever could be," she whispers, and he pushes himself from the ground, standing before her. He sees it, too – he always sees it. He knows now how this will end, and a part of him almost smiles at the irony of it all.
"Maybe it's time."
It is time, for him – not for her. He can save her. She can live, as Rose and not the Bad Wolf. She will live. She has to.
"That's what I see," he tells her, smiling as the last of his plan clicks into place. He'll miss her, but she'll be safe – and even now, that's all he really wants. "All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?"
"My head…" she gasps, and he sees the fear and the pain in her eyes and his hearts break. Soon, Rose – it'll all be over soon.
"Come here," he tells her, grabbing her arms. She's shaking, but he doesn't know if it's because of the Vortex or fear. Soon, Rose.
"It's killing me," she whispers, and he smiles at her. He reaches out with that simple gesture, willing the fear away; she doesn't have to be scared anymore. She's not going to die this time – he won't let her.
"I think you need a Doctor," he says, grinning at her, but she can't return the gesture. He pulls her close, stepping next to her as she watches him warily. Does she know – can she see his plan? Can she see how this will end, just as he can?
He tells himself it's the only way, but even then a quiet voice in the back of his mind is shouting at him that he's a liar. A liar and a coward – why hadn't he tried this before, when no one's life was in the balance? He pushes it back and leans towards her, and before he can give himself a moment to question it his lips are pressed to hers. And for a moment, as he grabs at the Vortex and starts to tear it from her, he almost pulls back – but then he can't, knowing that if he does she will die. It's just to save her life. It doesn't mean anything. It's the only way to get the Vortex safely out of her.
It has nothing to do with that part of his mind he's been fighting ever since she swung in on a chain to save him. It has nothing to do with how he's been secretly wanting this for so long now and is only brave enough to do it when he doubts she'll remember. It has nothing to do with how he's a coward.
He just wants her safe. His Rose.
He pulls away before he can lose himself, but he lingers over her, allowing the rest of the Vortex to drain into him. Forcing Bad Wolf to leave his Rose, forcing it all into himself. And then it's there, and she's Rose again, but he can't think to be glad. Her eyes roll into her head and she's unconscious, falling into his arms. He smiles just barely as he puts her down, knowing she'll be safe, before he stands and faces the gold light singing at him from inside the TARDIS.
Maybe it's a final gift, a quiet thank you or another reassurance from his magnificent ship, but his senses are suddenly enhanced, and he can see it all so much more clearly. He sees Rose, happy and safe and with him – but it's not him. He sees big hair and goofy smiles, too much energy and a penchant for prattling. She stays, and she lives – and they're happy, so very, very happy.
As he releases the Vortex back into the TARDIS, he almost can't bare to let it go – to let her go. He wants to stay; he wants it to be his hand she's holding while running from the dog-like beast. He wants it to be his arm she clings to as they watch the shooting stars in the snow. He wants to stay, with her – but isn't he, really? It will still be him, just not him. And they'll still be together. His Rose and her Doctor, still running through time and space – always running, because if they stop…
It's just a quick glimpse, but it's enough to make him pause as the last of the Vortex starts to leave him. He sees a stark white room, and with a sudden sense of fear he sends her message to one more place – across dimensions, to a cold beach. To him, the one who is coming with the big hair and new teeth, to bring him there. To bring her back after she's lost.
And then it's gone, and the doors close as the Vortex is returned to the heart of the TARDIS. Again there's that niggling in the back of his mind, but he can't place it – why does he feel like it isn't really over, even if he knows it is?
But he smiles and lets it go, and he bends down to where he had left Rose on the floor. He runs his hand along the side of her face, and his smile warms just a bit as the niggling goes away. He's just being silly – the Daleks are gone – dead – and all thanks to his fantastic Rose.
He picks her up and carries her into the TARDIS, setting her down as gently as possible near a railing. He pauses as he stands, just barely suppressing the shiver that runs through his body as he feels the process begin. He doesn't have long, and he silently hopes she wakes up before it happens. He doesn't want her to wake up to someone new, not without warning.
He goes to the controls and punches in some coordinates – just into the Vortex, just for now. It'll be safe there, and he needs safe for this. As the rotor starts to pulse he can't help but feel another niggling in his mind, a voice that sounds so very much like Rose shouting at him to wait for Jack. He's not far – they can't leave him.
"I bring life."
But he's already pressed the button, and they're already dematerializing. He sees Jack run in on the monitor, and a part of him shrinks back. He looks the same – nothing different – but he's all wrong. And he has to get away.
He closes his eyes as he leans against the console, swallowing as he feels the energy coursing through him. Not yet. Not without warning Rose. Not yet.
"What happened?" he hears her ask, and he turns to look at her. She lifts her head up, staring at the high ceiling of the control room as her eyes adjust and refocus. He looks up at rotor, forcing a smile as he watches it move.
"Don't you remember?" he asks, looking back to the monitor. He needs a distraction – he doesn't have much time. But he has to warn her…how will she react if he just up and changes in front of her? Another niggling, and he thinks that maybe that would be worse than letting her wake up after it's happened.
"It's like…there was this singing," she says, sitting up, and he looks at her.
"That's right – I sang a song and the Daleks ran away," he says, grinning. Maybe it's best she doesn't remember, but he can see she's trying to. It doesn't make sense to her – he can already tell; there's a blank space there where Bad Wolf had been, and she needs to fill it with something. She needs to remember. But a part of him – the part of him that will always be a coward – doesn't want her to. He doesn't want her to remember that pain. He doesn't want her to remember what she has done to Jack. He doesn't want her to remember their kiss.
"I was at home – no, I wasn't…I was in the TARDIS," she says, and he looks back at the screen. "And…there was this light…"
His eyes drift to his hand, and again his hearts still as he sees the light coursing through the veins under his skin. Maybe his hearts really did stop – he wouldn't be surprised, not now. Not during this.
"I can't remember anything else," she says, and if he had been able to focus he would have been glad. The light in his hand dims, and he turns his head towards her. He has to warn her – it's starting. If he doesn't…she deserves that much. He has to warn her. She looks up at him, smiling weakly, and his lips quirk slightly.
"Rose Tyler," he says, and he grins as a slight laugh follows. He knew, the moment he had realized he was fighting Daleks again, that he would die today. He had just figured it would be at the end of a Dalek death ray, not because of her inability to listen. He had sent her home to keep her safe, but she had to come back. Yes, she really was very jeopardy-friendly.
"I want you safe."
"I was gonna take you to so many places – Barcelona? Not the city Barcelona – the planet Barcelona. You'd love it – fantastic place!" he tells her with a chuckle, and she smiles at him, raising those dark eyebrows in that curious way of hers. She doesn't understand, and he's not doing a good job of explaining – but his mind's collapsing, and he can't really think straight.
"They got dogs with no noses," he says as the thought hits him, and he laughs at his joke. It's not what he needs to tell her, but somehow it's the only way he can. She smiles and looks away, and he can tell she doesn't understand. She probably thinks he's gone mad, and in a way he thinks he has. He always does during this process – just a bit, at least. "Imagine how many times a day you end up telling that joke and it's still funny!"
"Then why can't we go?" she asks, sounding confused and just a bit amused. She doesn't understand – why doesn't she understand?
"Maybe you will," he says, and he knows it has to be now. Before he loses all coherency. Before his mind finishes imploding. Before he dies. "And maybe I will. But not like this."
He smiles and looks back to the screen, his hearts racing a double-double-time against his chest. That's not good enough, and he knows it, but it's the best he can do. Please understand. Please.
"You're not making sense!" she says, holding up a finger to him. She sounds like she's lecturing – like he's a small child asking why he can't go to the park after hours. Somewhere inside he feels a stabbing pain, but he ignores it – not yet, not now. Not before he's warned her properly.
"I might never make sense again! I might have two heads – or no head," he says, and he laughs at the prospect. She smiles at him, scratching the back of her neck in a way that lets him know she's just humoring him, and he laughs a bit more. He's done this before – eight times, and not once did he ever come out with no head. Still, first time for everything…
"Imagine me with no head – and don't say that's an improvement," he says, looking to her. She raises her eyebrows quickly, letting him know that she wasn't even considering it until he mentioned it, and he smiles as he looks down. He looks back at her, and he knows it has to be now. "But it's a bit dodgy, this process."
She just smiles, and one of his hearts breaks for her. She has no idea that in a matter of minutes he'll be standing before her with big hair and new tee-
Big hair? He mentally shakes his head, ridding himself of the déjà vu-esque feeling; he doesn't know that. He never knows how he'll turn out.
"You never know what you're gonna end up with," he says, and he sees her smile droop. She doesn't understand, but he can't hold it back any more. He curls in on himself and jumps back as the pain shoots through him, and all of the sudden he sees that glow taking over his skin. It's happening, and he can't stop it – he can't hold it off any longer.
"Doctor!" she cries, and he hears her trainers slap against the floor as she runs towards him. He glances up, hardly able to raise his head against the screaming pain.
"Stay away!" he orders her, but to him it sounds more like begging. He doesn't want her to see this – she won't understand, doesn't understand.
"Doctor, tell me what's going on," she says, and he straightens as his arms tighten around his middle. He can feel it burning through him, every cell screaming out as they collapse. She's terrified – he can see it in her eyes. He wants to reach out to her, to hold her – to tell her that it'll be all right. But he can't see past the burning, and he can't find the words.
It was the only way.
"I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex – and no one's meant to do that," he says, and he forces a smile on – for her.
He had to, for her.
"Every cell in my body's dying."
She would have, if he hadn't. He had to.
It was the only way to keep her safe.
"I want you safe."
"W…can't you do something?" she asks, looking at him with wide eyes. She's scared, but he is, too. It's the end, and he knows there's no way around it. But it's ok – she's ok. It was the only way.
"Yeah – I'm doing it, now," he tells her, but again he knows she doesn't understand. Silly little ape with her tiny mind…how does she get around in that thing, so small?
"Time Lords have this little trick. It's…" he pauses, letting out a breath as another wave stabs at him. Not yet, please. Just a bit more. "It's sort of a way of cheating death. Except…"
He looks up at her, and for a moment all he can do is watch her. She's so scared…and all for him. Because he's hurt. Because she doesn't know how to help.
"My Doctor."
He is, isn't he? But will she still think so, even after he's gone? When the new him comes? Will she still be willing to absorb the Time Vortex just to keep him safe?
It flashes through his mind, that déjà vu feeling again, and he wonders why he can see her on that cliff in front of the city – New New York? – standing with that funny man in brown with big hair. Why does he look so familiar? But she's happy, and for now that's all that matters. She survives. She heals. She's strong like that.
"It means I'm gonna change," he finally says, nodding at her. She'll be all right. He'll be all right. She shakes her head, confused and lost and still so afraid, but there's nothing more he can do. She'll be all right. "And I'm not gonna see you again. Not like this. Not with this daft old face."
He laughs a little as he gestures towards his head, and he wonders briefly if she'll like his new face. She had liked his ears – not many people had liked his ears. Will the new him have big ears, too? Will she like them, even if they're smaller?
It will be all right.
He can't worry about it, not anymore. He's dying, and she'll be fine. He'll still be there for her, even if he doesn't make sense and has no head. She'll still be alive.
"And before I go –" he starts, but she steps towards him and looks at him like…he doesn't know. She's terrified, but still she's trying to make him feel better. She's always…maybe that's why he loves her.
…loves her?
Yes, loves her.
Shame he couldn't admit it 'til he was dying. He thinks she might've liked to hear it, just once.
"Don't say that!" she tells him, and he smiles slightly. She'll be ok with it, in time. It was the only way to keep her alive, and he knows they both like her alive.
"Rose," he says, only slightly bothered by how she won't accept any of this. He needs her to. He needs her to understand. She stops, and he's grateful. She needs to know this – he doesn't know if the next him will ever be smart enough to tell her. He never had, and he's a genius.
"Before I go I just wanna tell you you were fantastic," he says, smiling. It's not exactly what he wanted to say, but he's a coward – even now he can't tell her. Not even at the end. "Absolutely fantastic!"
She's not smiling, and for a moment he wishes she would. He wants that to be the last thing he sees, that smile that lit up the universe. That smile that was the universe. But she's scared, and he knows she can't smile – not yet. She will, in time, just not now. He looks down, feeling his body collapse around him in a burning haze.
"And you know what?" he finally asks, looking up at her. She shakes her head, unable to speak, and he smiles. A true smile, reaching up to his eyes and showing his teeth and positively beaming at her. He smiles for her, because she's alive and safe and he knows she'll be all right. He smiles for him, the new him that's about to arrive and take her by the hand and keep running, as long as she lets him. For them, because they were fantastic and he knows they still will be, even after he's gone. But mostly for her, because she's his Rose and she's strong and fantastic and he knows she'll survive. Even when he has a new hand for her to hold.
But he feels it, burning the last of him and sending him away. He looks at her, his smile warming as he realizes this will be the last time he sees her – like this, at least. But it's ok – he had to, for her. He had a good run, this time around. And maybe next time will be better.
"..you were fantastic."
She really was, and she still is. Absolutely fantastic.
"And you know what?"
"So was I."
A.n.: Y'all have no idea how much I've been looking forward to writing this; I've had this chap pretty much planned out from the moment I chose my themes. I apologize for it taking so long to get here; it would've been up at least a week or two ago, but I was having some Word issues (trial expired, locked out of all my files, didn't get it back 'til last Tuesday – two weeks after it goes kaputz on me).
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chap as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks again to Laheara for uploading the clips; this chapter would be really, really bad without your help. xP And before I forget: theme for this chapter is "Kindness" from Table 4.