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.