The leaver on Rose’s side of the room started to slip, slowly, and millimetre by millimetre the man gazed at it, horrified. If it returned to its rest position, if it continued to slip this wouldn’t work, it would fail, the world was doomed – and they both knew it. Lifting his eyes, the Doctor stared at Rose and knew, just knew what was going to happen, what she would do.
Thousands of paths flittered before his eyes, roads that could be taken, futures waiting to be formed from that one moment in time. Everything that could be, he saw it. He saw her falling into the void, he saw lifetimes of loneliness, and he saw a family full of grief. He saw it all. Flashes, jagged, jumpy. And he stared at her, this woman. This human girl who helped save him from his grief, who he’d condemned to a life full of death. This girl, whom he’d save.
Even if it meant his own death, his own exile to the void.
Staring at Rose’s eyes, he reached out an arm, slowly grasping, firmly, his own leaver, and moving his own body towards it. A quick change of angle, the muscles in this new, lean body working harder than they ever had before, fighting the suction. Then, in one, forceful (and oh so final) move he sprung across the distance and grasped onto Rose’s leaver – before she did it. Before she could take this choice from him. Finally. Finality. So soon.
Arms working, moving, muscles attempting to protest but failing to get far, slowly, Rassilon it seemed so slow, moved the leaver back upright again. Back to where it needed to be and stared. Into her eyes, into that infinite colour of her irises. Into her face, her lips that were always so full and red. Into her hand that she was stretching out towards him, the other bent around the bar on the clamp, precariously, not tightly enough.
Could she hold his weight, and not loose her own hold?
Was it possible?
Shaking his head at her, his eyes told his grief. His mouth told her to save her strength; he would be okay after all he had this leaver to hold on to. He would be fine; after all he’d hardly ever travelled through realities.
Just that time with her. And that incident with Adric’s home reality. And a few other times, but she didn’t need to know. This pull on him was so strong, so strong, devastatingly. His mind whirled, the leaver started going down again from his body’s pull on it. The gap would close too soon; there was no choice, none at all…
He had to do it.
For the world. For her.
He let go. She screamed at him. He screamed at her.
Their eyes told stories that their lips had never spilled, their screams filled the air, and as The Doctor fell into the void his voice rose above everything, through the noise, through the wind, above Rose’s please to any higher power.
His last sound. His last song.
The last song of the Time Lords.
And he was gone, into the space between realities, into nothingness, into hell. And the only thing left behind was a young woman sobbing on the floor with her lungs heaving and clawing at the floor.
It was over.