Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who in any way. If I did, I would have been fired by now.
The Doctor walked down the halls of the TARDIS. Clara had gone home once more and he was left on his own, silently stalking through the dim corridors. It was not until he passed the door of a long forgotten room that he stopped, and turned around.
The door of the room was one of simple mahogany, varnished in a coat of dark brown. On the top half there was a shape carved into the door. A simple rose. His finger traced the delicate grooves that had been cut into the solid wood. He refused to let the TARDIS delete this room, even though it brought back so many memories he fought hard to suppress, he couldn't bring himself to take any trace of her left behind.
It felt natural to place his hand on the silver handle of the door, to turn it and push it inwards. The room inside was no different from when it had last been entered. The bed covers were overturned with some clothes sprawled messily across the floor. Looking to a wall, he saw a pin-up board with many photos pinned on in a haphazard way. There was one of the London Blitz and one of the 2012 Olympics. They were laughing together in Cardiff and holding hands on a planet millions of miles away from home. He picked up a fallen frame to see a photo of himself, Jackie, Rose and Mickey on that one Christmas years ago, paper crowns atop their heads and a steaming turkey in the middle of the table. He allowed his lips to form a small smile at the scene, so long ago now, around two hundred years. Shaking his head, he placed the picture back on the desk and turned away. She was happy now, she had his mortal self, and the life he could never have. The door shut behind him and he sighed. Was she happy? Had she forgiven him for leaving her there? He stalked back off the control room, sadly.
The TARDIS hummed sadly after her pilot. She, too, missed the pink and yellow human that brought her Thief such joy. As the lights dimmed in the control room, as the Doctor fell asleep, she brought up old recordings from her archives and watched again, humming in a sad satisfaction.
There we are. That was just a quick idea I had for a one-shot.