Thousands upon thousands of years. He says that he can't remember anymore. Neither of us can. We don't know our own ages. It's been too long.
We've lived longer than any man. We've outlived entire species. I've died more than it seems should be possible. Yet it's not I who's lying on the ground.
When entire galaxies and races died, we've lived on. As friends fell sick, we've stayed alive and rotted. Our entire race, lost. Our entire home, destroyed. As we lost everything, we've lived on. We age and we regenerate and sometimes we meet for another battle of the century. Fights between us draw crowd. Neither of us win. We just destroy and cause more pain, just like the pain that I know for certain we both feel.
This is the curse of the Time Lord. One must watch galaxies implode as men slaughter in battles that they call just. I watch them age, never given the gift of doing so myself. I've outlived the rest of them. It's our fault. It's my responsibility if he goes. No one to stop me. No one to fight. I don't want to be the last.
We've both had our fair share of companions, people to spend their lifetime with. Humans, Time Lords, once even a Dalek, everything. They age and they wither away and they die. And every time they pass, I remember. I don't know how long it's been since the day I was born.
There's a reason that our names are hidden. They've been lost in time.
The memories have left me, but I won't let him do the same.
He has a ghost of a smile on his face. This incarnation has dull brown eye, that stare at me almost looking behind where I stand.
"Theta?" I question. I don't care about formal names anymore. There's only one thing I remember. Our childhood names.
"Koschei?" His voice cracks. I wince. The word is merely a whisper.
"You can still pull through. You've been through worse." But he's always had extra regeneration energy.
"I've been through better too." He laughs. The rusty sound hurts my ears.
"You've never been one to give up." I don't finish my sentence. Two words run through my mind. 'I am.'
"It's a fixed point in time…"
"Then cause a paradox! You are not dying on me. Not now… please." I beg. I've never begged before. I know it's inevitable, but I don't care. He's not going to find a way out of this. I ignore logic and common sense, and continue. "Are you really going to give up now?" A weak cry escapes his lips and his arm moves to the right side of his chest. I know it immediately. His heart stopped. And the other is probably slowing as we speak.
"Koschei, remember me. Everything I've done… Remember me." And then he smiles. And the last words to escape his lips are words I haven't heard since childhood. Words I hadn't remembered. Words I haven't heard since before I stared into the Untempered Schism all those millenuia ago. His name. followed by my own. He tells me his deepest darkest secret and reminds me of who I was and will never again be. And then he cries out one last time and closes his eyes, never to open them again. His body bathes in a yellow light for a second, and then it fades.
And I'm alone again.
The Last of the Time Lords.
The Doctor dies in the Master's arms.
I won. So why does it hurt so much?