His knees were weak; he was involuntarily falling onto his knees.
River was gone.
He let out a quiet sob, his face in his hands. He knew she wouldn't have wanted him to interfere. He knew it was a fixed point.
Still, she didn't have any more regeneration power left. It was terrible; her last time ever seeing the doctor would be the first time he had seen her, so young and stupid he was back then.
If only he was more careful last time, or perhaps he would've given her some warning, or he could've stopped it before it even happened…
No. It was too late. Fixed points could not be changed.
Using his sleeve to wipe his tears, he moved towards the controls of the TARDIS. In a few hours, she would be long gone, stored in the hard drive of Cal, the computer in the library.
He had already spent his last date with her.
They had been at the Singing Towers of Darillium. They hiked around and watched the towers harmonize; there were even fireworks, the most brilliant he had ever seen.
It was a fitting place, a fitting last date for the Doctor and his dear Melody Pond, his lovely River Song. He had cried both tears of joy and sorrow, and when she turned to him, seeing the tears unshed, she had wrapped him in her embrace.
That was when the dam broke.
There would never be anything more soothing than the warmth of her hugs, telling him that things would go well. Everything would be all right. Afterwards, he explained that it had been a hard day.
Rule number one; the Doctor lies.
They spent the rest of the day travelling around, sharing jokes, re-telling stories, but it was never enough time. Things had to move forward.
Ring! Ring! The black phone on the side called for his attention, but he knew what it would entitle. He ignored it, heading towards the room in the back, the one with her oh-so-familiar smell; her perfume and her shampoo mixed into the scent he identified as home. He slowly sank into her bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling decorated in stars. He brushed away the few delinquent tears, threatening to spill over.
She would spend the rest of her days in the computer's memory; the hard drive with a few of her friends and the stories of the universe. She wouldn't mind; she had always loved books, and she would be able to learn all the things she wanted to. The library was, of course, the best in the universe.
The hard drive. He sat up with a jolt. Wasn't it wired so that she would remain there, in an alternate universe entirely of her own? A eyes lit up.
He rushed towards the console room, quickly typing in a few keys, programming the TARDIS for emergency uses. It was still the hologram and the locking of the doors, but now, there was something else to look forward to.
Maybe, just maybe, hundreds and thousands of years later, when he's old and tired and ready to leave this world, he would be back. Back into the hard drive of Cal, back with his beloved, with all the information the TARDIS had acquired; all the stories of Rose and Jack, Martha and Donna, the stories of Amy and Rory. He smirked; there would be no fear in death after all.
He knew she would be there. She was always there for him, when he needed her; she had stayed when he was broken, when he was late, and even when he didn't recognize her. She would be there for him once more, patiently looking forward to the day they meet once more.
After all, she was the child of the girl who waited.