"Do you have a room?" Rory asked, however quickly brushed off, running back with Amy to leave him alone once again.
Of course he had a bedroom, although very rarely did he ever enter. It was the room that would be never gazed upon by any other, the room he tried to avoid all the time and yet still belonged to him; holding so many memories and so many secrets untold that haunted him every night.
Draped over the railing of the bed, a denim jacket he so scarcely touched as if trying to keep it preserved, to keep the memory of her alive in his head like a religion he would forever cling to. Or that dark hair clip set on top a box, one which Martha had broken on their shaky trip to New Earth where he would see the Face of Boe once more. Donna's small suitcase (one of many) which she forced him to carry through the doors of this beautiful blue box on their first trip still sat by the doorway…Hell, even the ring of the Masters had made its way there into that dusty old room. Soon, there would be a little piece of Amelia there whom would eventually too leave him. It was the inevitable.
For a man with everything, he had nothing, nothing but the sad memories to keep him company on the long travels that were to come.
And that scared him more than any Dalek ever could.