Prologue
"Alright, alright. Oswin-Oswald. Oswald. Clara. ClaraClaraClara. It's impossible-" Flying haphazardly through the Vortex, a discomforted TARDIS warily kept an eye on her pacing Doctor. The excessively energetic, beanpole of a man was frantically jerking this way and that, reverting back to an old habit of tugging at his girlish hair and randomly repeating the last coherent word out of his mouth. "It is! Impossible! Soufflé girl, she-she's died! Twice! Impossible to come back from. Especially when she's a human! And she is most definitely human! Impossible!"
A revelation of sorts seemed to cross his mind at the word as he twisted back, banging around the circular control panel and grabbing at a slew of buttons, levers, and coils. "No! Nothing's impossible! Nearly impossible but not impossible! So if there's two of her," he gleefully jumped up, spreading his arms wide across the console to tweak a few more switches, "then there's got to be more! She's anywhere! Everywhere!
With a madman's grin he spun the TARDIS back towards London. "Everywhere-yes! Everywhere! Might as well start with the first one! Good old London, England." He affectionately patted the TARDIS before spinning on to his scanner. "I know you love it there. And I do too! Always running into the most brilliant of mates. Now," slamming down the final metal rod, he turned as it to address an audience, "shall we Pon-"
The twittering Doctor froze, the light of laughter beginning to leak from his hundred-watt smile. For the first time in a long while, the only sounds echoing from the metallic walls of the TARDIS were the sounds of its quick descent down to twenty-first century Earth. It didn't take him long to realize just how alone he was, being that it was only himself and the sentient being that was his TARDIS hovering around the bleeping control panel. And it did not take long for the last of his cheery mood to be lost in a wave of memories and despair.
They were gone. They were all gone. His Ponds. His Song. He was...
Alone.
He cleared his throat, trying to wipe his mind clean, "Ah, right. Yes. No one but us." Any reprimandings of being 'too old for tears' or 'should be used to it already' fell on deaf ears as he managed a watery sort of smile. Even his beloved box, the ever faithful time traveling companion, could do nothing as a sort of saddened hiccup escaped him. Grasping onto the notion, the sliver of hope, that he wouldn't be without a companion for long, the Doctor pieced himself back together. Or rather, duct taped himself up enough so that he could safely land the TARDIS. "Let's just hope we don't have to travel far to find her, alright?"
And then he was off, leaving only a one-hearted 'Geronimo' in his wake.
I do not own Doctor Who.
Edited by Kiji23.