The Doctor is filled with an emptiness...and in his mind he writes a letter to Shame.
Dear Shame,
You've followed me forever, been one of the main driving forces for my every move.
You've haunted me for nearly as long as I can remember.
You've reminded me every day of the things that I failed to do.
I didn't save so many worlds, and I couldn't honor their fallen spirits the way they deserved.
I didn't save my friends, and I couldn't live up to their hopes.
I didn't save my family, and I couldn't safeguard their souls.
I didn't save myself, and I couldn't fight the inevitable.
You, the shame of my failings, drove me forward, made me fight every evil I could find, as if I could assuage the emptiness, fill up the beast in me so you would let me rest.
But you are insatiable.
You will devour me.
I wish I could drink you away, drown you in amber, drift on a haze and forget all the guilt.
But I can only dull the edges of your presence, can only blunt the sting of the memories.
Because I did the unthinkable, and when I did, you blossomed so thick and deep that I could choke.
You blanket me when I sleep, clothe me when I wake, press down on me like a hand every single hour of every single day.
And now, now after all that I've done, I'm supposed to be a vessel of the higher holy, a tool of the ultimate good.
That, after all the evil I've done.
How can I say yes to that when I know I'm not worthy?
They just can't see that they have the wrong man.
They can't see what have you made me.
I am just a shell.
A husk.
A cup for you to fill.
