Prologue
Never did the Doctor despise a sunrise more. What usually meant hope; what usually symbolized a new beginning or joy on the horizon now simply meant a life with River finished. Their twenty-four year night had come to an end, leaving only sorrow and longing in its wake.
The Doctor stood with his folded hands resting on the banister. It was in that same spot that River and he had enjoyed their first conversation here on Darillium. It felt like it was only yesterday, and technically speaking it was. One very long yesterday ago.
The sun was rising well above the horizon now, shooting its bright, glaring rays into the towers ahead of him from behind the restaurant. River had left nearly two hours before, leaving the Doctor rooted to the spot where they had finished their relationship in silent tears. They both knew it was over. They both knew what last night had meant. There was no escaping the dawn as it penetrated the beautiful night sky. As it forced the stars into hiding. As the sun stole the moon's spotlight in the sky.
The Doctor's eyes were locked on the towers, unblinking. He and River had listened to them sing oh so many times. Heard the beautiful harmonies. The Doctor even played his guitar alongside them at one time or other. That made River laugh; seeing her husband the rockstar. The Doctor let out a sad chuckle and finally turned his eyes down to his slightly shaking hands.
It was all becoming real now. The fact that he'd never see River again. The awful truth that he was alone. He sighed inwardly, or maybe it was aloud. Right now he couldn't keep his thoughts straight, let alone his actions. Before he realized what he was doing, his feet had carried him back through the restaurant to the doors of the TARDIS.
She was filthy. Twenty-four years had given her a layer of dust that the Doctor silently vowed to clear off as soon as he was in a proper state of mind. His hands fumbled in his pocket for the key and when he found it, he was disgusted to find that that, too, had seen better days. Luckily, when his still shaking fingers pushed the key into the lock, it fit perfectly and allowed him the safe and warm comfort of the old ship.
Instantly, he gazed around the bright space. Everything seemed a bit smaller than he remembered, but that was okay. Maybe it was the TARDIS' way of making him feel less alone. Open spaces where friends used to stand always made the Doctor feel sad.
He sighed once more, this time definitely vocalizing it, and put his hands on the console. The soft hum of the TARDIS soothed him, and sent a warm embrace up his arms. How did she always know?
"What do I do now, eh old girl?"
The Doctor looked up at the slowly rising and falling Time Rotor before shutting his eyes and letting his head droop. Twenty-four years. It was nothing to a Time Lord. Not even comparable to his time in the Confession Dial. But it was something. He hadn't gone saving the universe in all that time. Not even one duel with a Dalek. Time had...stopped. And the Doctor knew, maybe better than anyone else, that getting out of sync with the universe made it almost impossible to get back.
"I know I'm not supposed to be alone, but who am I supposed to be with now?"
He was sending these questions to nobody, really, he realized. The TARDIS couldn't answer him. He was literally on his own in this. So he did what he always did when he was alone and grieving. He pulled down the closest lever and let the TARDIS him wherever he needed to go.