The Eleventh Doctor awoke with a heart of lead. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to curl up in a dark corner of the TARDIS and cry. He racked his immense memory, searching for the feeling. Was it... loneliness? True, Amy and Rory had left him months before, but that... just wasn't it. Maybe... Coldness? No, his thermal blankets were Gallifrey-made; they'd never let you get cold. He didn't have a fever, he wasn't sick, he had his beautiful, wonderful, timey- wimey machine... Why was the only thing he wanted a good cry? He threw himself out of bed, wobbling through a head rush, and stumbled down to the TARDIS's main room.
"What is it?! What IS it?!" He yelled at nothing in particular, seizing his hair in his fists. Then an odd look came into his eye. His fists slowly relaxed their grip. "Oh." he breathed quietly. "TARDIS, when are we?" He pressed a series of nearby buttons, and a hologram sprang from a projector.
CURRENT LOCATION: CARDIFF, ENGLAND, UNITED KINGDOMS, 11:45am, APRIL 12, 2013.
"Oh." The Doctor leaned over the TARDIS control panel, bracing his arms apart for support. "It's her birthday. It's... Rose Tyler's birthday."