(A.N) Hi all. I was pondering one day with my friend Stinkfly3 about how Doctor Who could have ended with the last Ten special. Welp, here's my take on it. Enjoy.

The Doctor stood there, in his TARDIS, orbiting the Earth. The planet he had protected for so long now. He had lived for this planet and defended it endlessly.

But everything has it's time. And everything dies. No-one knew this like The Doctor.

This was his time. His time to die.

After all the years he had lived, all the adventures he had and the companions he had shared them with, time had finally caught up to him. Ood Sigma's prophecy had come true. Someone did knock four times, and The Doctor's song was now ending. There was nothing he could do now. He had held it off for as long as he could, but now all he could do was accept it. His end had finally come. Not from Daleks, not from The Master, but from his own incompetence. He had chosen to hold off the process, because he didn't accept it. He couldn't. But it was happening. It was always inevitable.

The Last of the Time Lords shook his head. He felt his body surge with energy, but he denied it. He gave his final cry.

"I don't want to go!".

His voice bounced off of the TARDIS walls, but nothing could help him now. His body began to heat up, repressed energy revealing itself at last. His hands began to glow a familiar gold. The Doctor breathed deeply, still trying his best to hold back his natural cycle. It couldn't happen! There was still so much more! He could be so much more!

His entire body then started to glow and the process started without warning. The Doctor screamed in pain as the glowing yellow flames engulfed him. He opened his eyes one last time to look at his TARDIS. She was still flying, still holding herself together. For her Doctor.

The flames continued to burn, but The Doctor's pain began to slowly fade. As strength suddenly began to leave him, he knew something had gone wrong somehow. He felt hs face, shocked to discover that it was not changing. That was when he realised, he was not regenerating. He was not healing. There would be no new man to saunter off.

He was litteraly dying.

The Doctor fell to his knees, feeling every cell in his body die. The flames that still glowed around him only served to numb the pain, to give him a soothing end. He collapsed completely onto the floor of his TARDIS, his life slipping away with every second. The last thing he felt were the final beats of his two hearts, their rhythm calming him as they gradually, oh so gradually, slowed to a halt. The flames finally extinguished themselves, leaving the body of the last Time Lord lying there on the floor of his TARDIS, his constant companion, who began to silently weep for the loss of her Doctor.

Outside the TARDIS, a coldness began to spread across the stars, to every planet in existance, every person or creature that has ever lived. The universe fell silent, and shivered.

The Doctor was dead.