A noise, one that no human could ever explain, pierced the air of a small city in the 22nd century. A blue police box materialized on a street corner, as if it belonged there, and wasn't a few decades outdated. A man with ginger-red locks, blue-green eyes and a slew of freckles stepped out of the box, a pained, yet excited, look crossing his features. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, a simple, dark purple crew neck t-shirt and red Converse high tops.

He straightened his shirt and set off down the street. He found the house he was looking for, but it no longer stood whole. The roof lay in the cellar, shambles of the recent war. A wave of panaic gripped at his hearts, wondering where the resident was that lived there.

He checked with the neighbours. They said she had moved out years prior, moving to Lord knows where.

The ginger-haired man sighed in frusteration, climbing back into the police box.

Inside the box, it was much, much bigger.

The walls were decorated with images. Images of old friends. Images of lost family. Images of those he loved.

Susan. Sarah Jane. Romana. Leela. Rose. Jack. Mickey. Jackie. Martha. Donna. Amy. Rory. River. Clara. Ali. K-9.

All of the people whose lives he messed up, one way or another.

All of the people he spent hours on end thinking about, wishing he could undo what he did.

Wishing he could laugh with his granddaughter one last time.

Wishing he could smile and laugh with one of the many best friends he made.

Wishing he could hug any of the women he came to love.

He even wished he could slap Captain Jack once in a while.

His last companion, thirteen year old Ali, had left him in the most brutal way yet. She was killed, at a mere thirteen years old, by a human serial killer, who had taken her from him. He had grown to care for her like a father would his daughter, and she had been drugged, cut to bits and uncerimoniously dumped in a field in Texas. The only reason they were in Texas was for a concert. A Brad Paisley concert in 2015.

Now, he was alone again, wishing he had someone.

Setting the co-ordinates on the TARDIS for somewhere in space he could just float, he sat in front of the picture of Ali on the wall, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks.

"Oh Ali, I am so, so sorry. If we hadn't been in Galvinston, you'd still be here, reading Harry Potter and throwing pencils at me. Rassilon, I miss you." Finishing his rant, he moved to the picture of Rose.

"Rose, oh Rose. I had to do it. I couldn't bear to see you die. I had to leave you with the Meta-Crisis. You would be safe, and you'd have me." Deciding to just vent to the pictures, he moved on to Donna.

"Donna, if I ever came back for you, you'd die. Your brain would burn, one cell at a time, painfully engulfing your existance and wiping it out." Next, he moved on to Susan.

"My dear, sweet Susan. My beautiful Arkytior. How I miss you darling. You were in danger, my sweet granddaughter. You were the first to travel with me, exploring the Universe as a family. I love you, Arkytior." Finally, he moved to Amy and Rory.

"Ponds! Rassilon, it was my fault the Angels took you. If we hadn't been in Manhatten, you would still be alive. We could've been a family, you two, River and I. You were two of my best friends, along with being my in-laws. I still have the book, I keep it in my pocket some days." Standing up from the floor, the Doctor started fiddling with the TARDIS controls.

Suddenly, a loud crash eminated from the walls of the TARDIS, and a figure ran in through the doors like he was being chased.

"Not again." the Doctor whispered to himself. The man who ran in had chestnut hair that never sat flat, chocolate brown eyes that looked hundreds of years old, and was wearing a blue pinstripe suit.

"Who are you?" he asked. 'Here we go again.' the Doctor thought.

"Nevermind that, why are you in my TARDIS? And how did you get in here? And what did you do to my coral?!" he demanded while fiddling with some switches on the console.

"Just let me do something. Alright? Then I'll have about thirty seconds to explain everything." the Doctor replied calmly. He flicked about four or five different switches on the console.

"Now. I'm you. Not your next regeneration, but the one after. We're finally ginger. Anyway, your TARDIS merged with my TARDIS, creating a paradox, like what happened in 2007 on Earth after Martha. Now, before you go. You were my Doctor. Sassy, smart, caring and almost human. I still wear trainers. I still got the Brainy Specs. I just wanted you to know that. Goodbye, Doctor." the ginger explained, waving as the brunette faded away silently.

Flipping more switches on the TARDIS console, the Doctor piloted himself to a planet where he knew he'd be along.

Landing the TARDIS on Mars, he cracked a weary smile, remembering Donna's remark about him being a Martian.

Climbing out of the TARDIS with a backpack slung over his shoulder, he wandered around the red planet, trying to find a place to sit and think.

Finally sitting, he pulled a book from the 98th century he and Ali had bought from his backpack.

It was filled with memories. Literal memories. The book took memories from your brain, happy ones, and placed them on the pages like a video.

He smiled sadly, seeing Rose in her '50s dress, Shakespeare flirting with Martha, Donna in her wedding dress, the day she materialized in the TARDIS, Amy and Rory's wedding day, River, shooting the fez off his head, Clara with Angie and Arty, Ali in Egypt, the day she realized she wasn't entirely normal, or human.

All of his companions had their own chapters. Susan's, Sarah Jane's, Rose's, Donna's, the Ponds', River's, Clara's and Ali's were the ones he visited the most, remembering the people he came to think of as family.

His wife, River.

His best friends/sisters, Sarah Jane, Donna, Martha, Amy, Clara and Rose.

His daughter, Ali.

His granddaughter, Susan.

His best friends/in-laws, the Ponds.

He had created his own family. It was small and dysfunctional. It was broken, as well as mending, but it was a family.

A stray tear streaked down his cheek, splattering itself on a memory of the day Ali found the TARDIS. The little Canadian/Roman/Egyptian had found the TARDIS at twelve, having had her glasses thrown into it by some bullies.

The tears didn't stop flowing. All the sad memories of losing companions flooded into his mind.

Leaving Susan in the 22nd century.

Leaving Rose in Pete's World.

Martha joining U.N.I.T with Mickey.

Taking Donna's memories so she wouldn't die.

Sarah Jane, leaving him for her family after the Twenty-Seven planets incident.

The Ponds, being taken by the Weeping Angels.

River's death.

Clara, trying to save him by entering his timeline.

Ali, being murdered in Texas in 2015.

A weary smile cracked the Doctor's features. His youngest companion was only about one-fourth human. Her father, who was eighteen when she was born, had been half-Greek god, a son of Apollo, and had the Blood of the Pharoahs. He had died when Ali was four, sending her into foster care because she had never met her mother. While in Egypt, she had learned of her heritage as an Egyptian magician, and trained briefly with the House of Life. A few months later, some weird signals started coming from Long Island, New York, and she learned of her heritage as a legacy of Apollo and daughter of Lupa. She was half-Roman goddess, one fourth-Greek god and one fourth-Human. She could sing like a bird, heal herself, to a degree, communicate with canines, turn into a wolf, which made the Doctor cry the first time, remembering Rose, the Bad Wolf, she could even interpret prophecy, as well as do simple Egyptian magic. She hadn't learnt much else from the House of Life, since she had the blood of three patheons.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and put the book away. From inside his bag, he produced a leather cord. It had at least a dozen beads on it, one for each of his family members.

Susan's was TARDIS blue, because she came up with the name.

Rose's was pink and yellow because she was his pink and yellow human.

Martha's was white and red because she was a doctor.

Donna's was orange because she was a ginger.

Amy's was red, like her hair.

Rory's was green because he was a nurse, and he wore green scrubs.

River's was brown, like her hair.

Clara's had too many different colours, just because she was impossible.

Ali's, the newest bead, was gold, silver, bronze, black, purple and white. Colours of the Greeks, Romans and Egyptians.

He clasped his hand around the beads, bringing them to his lips, gently kissing each one.

Placing the beads back in his bag, he laid down on the red dirt and slept.