It was another day in the Tardis. It was quite and even the usual hum of the Time rotor was almost nonexistent. No one was running around, laughter wasn't coming from the hallways, grinning companions didn't ask what the hell the resident Time Lord was talking about. The huge room had an air of sadness to it, coming from the suit-clad man on the jump seat.

The Doctor was sitting in the console room, bored out of his mind, but honestly was too depressed to do anything about it. One part of his mind was urging him to get up. Go running, save some people, experience the universe, Move on. But he couldn't. Everytime he would move to stand, start plugging in coordinates for another journey, he would look to his side where his companion would have been standing. But no one was there.

They always get left behind, they always leave him. He always got them killed or, most recently, trapped in an alternate dimension.

After losing Rose, it started with denial, as it always did. The 5 stages of grief.

He looked all through the Universe for another crack, some way he could pull her back through, but nothing. He knew that would happen, but of course, denial.

When he couldn't find a way to get her back, he of course got angry, really angry. He threw things, yelled and screamed. He turned to bargaining, praying, more begging than anything. He didn't deserve to lose everyone he ever cared about did he? Hadn't he suffered enough?

And now depression. Deciding to stick with sitting around the Tardis, he could almost imagine that Donna woman yelling at him to "Stop moping about!"

He had hoped that if Donna had taken up his offer of coming with him would let him move on, but she had said no. On the other hand, it would probably be for the best. She would just get hurt with him anyways. He wasn't ready for a companion.

Why couldn't he just get this over with? He didn't want to be sad anymore, but every time he smiled or felt anything other than grief he felt this pang of guilt in his chest. How could he be happy when he had ruined so many lives? It wasn't right.

The Doctor looked up at a sudden noise that cut through the silence. An envelope sat on the floor in front of the door. His eyes narrowed in confusion. A letter? He got a letter? Questions raced through his head.

Who would send him a letter? How could anyone send him a letter? Was it actually a letter or something else?

He slowly walked towards the door, paused, then picked up the enveloped. On the front was the word "Friend" in curly lettering. There was no other stamps or any kind of lettering. It appeared to have just slipped under the door. He opened the door, and saw open space, a few meteors whizzing about, but no way for a letter to be passed through. He closed the door, and examined the envelope closely.

Simple paper from Earth, no stamps, no return address, nothing special about it at all.

He ran his finger through the paper, and inside found only a piece of paper folded in 3. He unfolded the letter, and read through it, frowning the whole time.

What is this? Who was Willow? How could she know anything about him?