The tenth Doctor was running. The Daleks had caught up to him again and it had been his only option, because, really, Rose had been his courage. He lost his balance, careening forward and falling to his hands and knees. His knee, he was pretty sure, was bleeding and at least one wrist was broken, but that didn't matter. He just had to get back to his TARDIS and all would be fine. He realized he'd landed on a grave and, respectfully, he made to stand until he saw the name on the grave. Rose Tyler. His body went slack and he remained on his knees. He knew the Daleks were coming and maybe that was best. There was, after all, no one to miss him. "Rose." He said, touching the gravestone, tracing her name with one delicate finger. "Rose." His voice cracked, "I never got to tell you how much I love you, but I do. God, Rose, I love you so much it hurts and I never stopped, will never stop. I wish I could bring you back. So badly. You already knew how I feel, but I know that it wasn't enough." His remaining words were unintelligible, even to himself, as the tears began cascading down his face. He was wracked with sobs, loud and heart-wrenching. "I'm sorry." He repeated over and over, "I'm so, so sorry." He wasn't even able to breathe. Unfortunately, because of his time lord physiology it didn't matter. It wouldn't make him pass out to take him away from the pain. He felt both hearts break all over again, and he cried even harder.
It was a cold, windless, gloomy kind of day when the Doctor's first incarnation stepped off of his TARDIS into a graveyard, his objective just across it. He strode through purposefully. His objective accomplished, he walked back when he saw a young man in a trench coat crying and begging for forgiveness, his hands against a gravestone. Ordinarily, the Doctor would've respected this as a private moment but something made him reach out. "Are you alright?" The man in the brown trench coat didn't even look up
"In…in 900 years of…of time and space I never loved someone so much. And now I've lost her. And I'll live on for 900 more without her."
"900?" Time Lord?
The young man didn't even hear him. "I should've known better than to love her, my stubborn pink and yellow human. Did I lose her to old age? No, no, of course not. Did I lose her because she wanted to leave?" He shook with sobs again. "No!" His voice echoed throughout the silence. "The Daleks came back by the thousands and now she's in a parallel universe and I'll never see her again. Everything I've ever loved is gone." His nose dripped.
"There's Galifrey," the Doctor offered. Here, the younger man did look up. His face changed almost imperceptibly.
"I was exiled." He attempted a watery smile, but failed miserably.
"There's your TARDIS."
"I do love her dearly…but it's not the same."
"Well," the older man patted the younger one's back, "I'm sure it'll be okay, after a while. Take care."
At least, the tenth Doctor thought to himself, one of his incarnations cared about him, because he didn't care about himself. Not anymore. His sobs broke out again.
Eventually, he would get up. Eventually he'd go back to his TARDIS and, inevitably, he'd curl up in her bed and cry a little more.