The Doctor sat on the upper balcony of his TARDIS, legs swinging above the drop to the underside of the console. His velvet red jacket looked as Doctorish and timeless as ever, but his shirt bore many creases, and his eyes sat above grey shadows, a sure sign of his dislike for sleep and resting. He plucked at his authentic Beatles guitar, a melancholy melody ringing through the ship. Or maybe it wasn't Beatles. The Doctor could never remember. He sighed and plucked away at the strings, mind wandering to every corner of every universe.
"Clara Oswald." He muttered to himself, his thick, gravelly Scottish accent rolling off his tongue. The name had plagued his thoughts for several weeks now, ever since the last memory he could piece together about her took place. That dreaded business with Gallifrey, and the Hybrid and...
"The Neural Block." He pulled the gadget out of his pocket and hits it against the back of his hand, as if somehow doing so would bring back all the lost memories, all the stories...
He jumped up and skipped down the stairs, pausing to think at the console.
"Clara Oswald!" He let explode out of his mouth, waiting for the sound to echo across the domed room. Whenever he was stuck on a thought he'd do this. He thought it released the idea. Really, it was just an excuse to shout a lot (and as usual, it hadn't really helped).
"You know what I need?" The silence that followed was not a feeling he was used to. "A sunny beach, with a good lemonade stand!"
The console hummed as he tapped away at a keyboard, and when he pulled the all-important lever, the familiar sound filled the halls of the TARDIS as they travelled through space and time.