100 Themes, Doctor Who Style

He'd done all he could.

He'd said all his goodbyes, or all that were feasible to say, at the very least.

Tied up all his loose ends, saved a planet. Saved the universe, for that matter, and at the expense of his own people. Again.

Gave his life to save a man, a strong, good man.

But here, at the very end, standing in the heart of the Tardis where he had spent so much time, time with her, he railed against fate. So much laughter, and as many tears. Even as his body filled with fire, his mind was filled with sparkling hazel eyes, blonde hair, strong hands that so often gripped his own as they shot across the galaxies. The sound of her laughter filled his ears as he submerged himself in memory to help ease his pain; the sight of her smile -- she smiled with her whole face when she really meant it, a sight he was willing to cross the universe for -- was bittersweet here at the end.

The memories distracted him from his physical pain, but the heart that was rebuilding in his chest broke as he regenerated. "I don't want to go," he choked out, as he held onto that last memory of her smile, her whole face lit up.

He didn't want to go; the man he was to regenerate into might be a good man, a great man, but that man wouldn't be in love with Rose Tyler, and that was the hardest thing the Doctor had ever had to let go of. At least now he knew she was safe and happy somewhere; in five minutes, he might not even care if she was happy.

And that, he thought, as a lone tear evaporated from his face in the heat of the regeneration, was true sorrow.