Alright, let me start out by saying that this is my very, very first Doctor Who fic, and only my first year watching the show. My dad just introduced it to me back in April, but I've unknowingly been watching it for longer than that. I spent my entire summer getting caught up with the fourth season, starting with "Rose" and ending with "Voyage of the Damned." It took me from June to November to do it, mind you, as Netflix usually took forever to send me the next DVD, but I did it, and I was extremely proud of myself, and hooked right off the bat!

I was also a 9/10/Rose fan ASAP. I was smitten with the pairing almost instantly. I absolutely bawled at Doomsday, and Journey's End was no different, and I know I am doomed to cry when Ten regenerates as well, seeing as he's my absolute favorite Doctor, since I have the priviledge to call him my doctor. My dad's doctor was Tom Baker, but mine is the one and only David Tennant. :)

So anyway, when I decided to write a fanfic about it, I had to think pretty hard about it, seeing as practically ever idea there is has been used at least once, if not two, three times. I wanted to write something...different. Dunno, that's just how I am.

So one day I just started writing.

And this is the result! Hope you like it, and please don't forget to review! Flames are okay, I guess, but I'd prefer constructive criticism instead, please. This is, again, my first DW fic, and if the characters are a bit off, I apologize.

Prologue

He stood in front of the large crowd, slowly coming to terms with what was about to happen to him. His hands were tied in front of him, and he had a somber look on his otherwise boyish and mischievous face. His chocolate eyes were deep with sadness and complete understanding all at the same time, and as he stared ahead of him, he let out a deep sigh.

A cold autumn breeze blew through the wild mop of brown hair atop his head, cutting through his thin cotton shirt. His long coat remained back in the cave, on the cave floor where he had left it earlier this morning.

This was the end of the last child of Gallifrey.

Behind him, Janchi held a thrashing Rose back as she tried desperately to pull away from his fierce grip, trying to get to him, to save him somehow.

Oh, how he would have preferred she not be here for this!

He knew the Lenape people would honor their promise and not harm her, and allow her to go free. She would find her way back home, somehow. He knew she would.

Chua came up beside him. In front of the two sat a large oak tree stump, a Lenape hatchet buried deep into its center. Walking over to it, Chua pulled the hatchet from the stump and held it in his hands.

"Are you ready, Doctor?" He asked. "Are you ready to die?"