"The Valiant Child who will die in battle."
Those were the words that came to mind as the lever failed and the Doctor's brilliant plan was put into jeopardy. Though the cacophony in the lever room of Torchwood Tower was deafening, for a few heartbeats all she heard was the pounding of blood through her ears and the echoes of the devil's prediction. The chaos around her seemed to slow down as the revelation of her death came over her. Maybe, when they remembered her, they'd say she'd had a choice in this moment. But she didn't. Not really. Every second the Cybermen and Daleks were able to exist in her world, people were getting hurt. Dying. If she didn't fix the lever, the invaders would fall out of the tug from the Void and have more opportunities to wreak havoc. She'd die then anyway, most likely. And the Doctor too. Then with him would go the universe's best hope. No, there was no choice. This was it. Her death. Best make it a good one.
She took a fortifying breath as her perception of time sped back up to it's normal pace, bringing with it the chaos of her surroundings. Her heart ached when she heard the Doctor screaming to her over the din. Best not to look at him just now though. It was bad enough to hear the desperation in his voice. He knew what she intended to do.
Instead, she focused on the lever, judging the distance and how she'd need to move her body to catch it. It would be easy enough to do. She'd done plenty of routines on the parallel bars that were much trickier. Focusing on her goal, she let go of the magna-clamp and let the pull of the Void take her. As soon as she got a firm grip on the lever, she braced herself against the base and pulled it back until it was locked in the proper position.
It was a bittersweet success.
The Void once again devoured the metal creatures from the skies and streets of her world, but it also exerted that same hungry pull on her. She knew she wouldn't withstand it forever. It was now just a matter of her holding on to the rough handle of the lever until she lost her grip.
Her job done, she allowed herself to focus back on the Doctor. He was screaming words she couldn't hear, but she thought it might be desperate encouragements and her name. She realized with awe that he still had some hope left. There was at least some part of him that still believed she could get through this and stay by his side. As always, it was humbling that such a being had so much faith in her - a shop girl who grew up rough on a council estate. She let that thought warm her as long as she could. She clung to it with her mind as desperately as she clung to the lever with her hands. But the terror of what was to come was taking over as she felt her hands weaken. In the midst of the fear and sadness of her last moments, the anguish at leaving him stood out the most. It was always destined to happen with their mismatched lifespans, but she wished it wasn't now, wasn't so soon. Not when she could have had decades left to be with him. She wished she'd had time to tell him…tell him so many things. Maybe he knew. She hoped he knew. She hoped he'd be ok, after...
Her eyes were so wide that they ached as she tried to drink him in. Tried to communicate to him all the things she would never be able to say. And how daft was that? To let such important things left unsaid. But she'd always thought she had more time…
Her fingers began to slip. I'm trying! She thought, wishing she could send him that message among all the rest that floated around inside her. Oh Doctor, I'm trying!
But she was only human and not quite strong enough.
It went quickly then, the last of the cool metal torn from her grip as a scream was torn from her throat. The world was madness and wind and one last glimpse of her Doctor.
And then she was...