The mind of the Doctor was always a myth for many. Instead, the Doctor would always indicate his mind was just simply a logical deduction storage area. The Doctor would always pointed that to the many that asked what was contained in his mind, that it was better not to ask. His mind. It was a place that contain too many sorrow and regret that none could understand.
There was simply too many times in his past that he wished to fix, yet couldn't simply due to the rule of a fix point in time. A fix point in time meant something was suppose to happen, no matter how much an event was change previously or the chain of reaction was altered. That point was bound to happen.
If something was changed to the fate of that event, it still would happen. It was something no one could change. If it was prevented to happen, than a paradox would happen before the fix point was to happen and slotted back into the correct position among time. Yes. See. No matter how one change an event, time would smooth things out over time, making all events seasonable toward anyone that questioned such event.
The Doctor was swamp in his land of memories.
It was simply fragments of memories that made him tossed and turned as he cried out the pain from his memories. He woke to the last fragment of memory. The glitter silver blade of the knife stabbing down. He woke as he felt tears slowly trickling down his cheek as he cried out loud to the unknown events.
The cold steel floor of the TARDIS simply only enhanced the whole memory further more among the Doctor's mind. He felt lost. The gaped memory among his mind was simply screaming 'KEY' memory to his processing brain, yet none was ringing a bell. He could feel sorrow, anger, disappointed all meshed into regret among his heart, yet still none of these emotions could unfold the whole event into his mind.
He let out a viscous cry as he howled his frustration through the TARDIS before he buried his head into his arms. He clench onto his leather jacket tightly as he rocked himself back and forth, just as if he still felt his beloved wife was there slowly smoothing him whenever he was distressed. It was that moment something clicked in the Doctor's mind. Yes. His beloved wife.
He scrambled to get himself up right, stumbling a few times during the process as he rushed for the open door of the TARDIS. Yes... Where is his beloved wife.
Where?
The question rung loud among his brilliant mind as he looked left and right onto the streets of London. The Doctor looked helpless, correction, he is helpless as wondered where his wife went. The parting words still rung faintly in his mind. "I'm sorry." Sorry.... sorrow those things conflicted among his mind as he wondered through the streets of London.
"I miss you." the Doctor muttered faintly as he turned around his head as if he felt the light bond among his wife and him still vibrating. He need to seek her.
He need her.
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