Put Out The Light, And Then Put Out The Light

But the world was a tomb to me, a graveyard of broken statues, and each of those statues resembled her face. I go on, night after night. Detached. Unchangeable. Empty. All my passion went with her red hair.

(slightly bastardized and re-arranged) -Interview With The Vampire

My phone rings almost non stop or rather it did until I ripped it from the console. I suppose being a police call box I should have expected that. I had no intention of answering it so I no longer needed it anymore. The TARDIS hummed at me in disapproval, but I didn't care. She practically pilots herself nowadays, taking me "where I need to go". I never even open the doors. Whatever disaster, tragedy, injustice I'm supposedly there to stop, plays out without my intervention and she tries again. We're at a stalemate, she and I. But I'll prevail in the end. I always win. She will eventually realize that I am really, truly done.

I worry Amy won't be able to see without her glasses but I'm glad I have them. I'm glad I have some piece of them. I even wear them sometimes.

Of course I have many pieces of them actually. Little scraps of their lives left about the TARDIS, all like a treasure hunt that leads to the museum of their bedroom.

Shrine. River called it, or rather spat at me the last time I saw her. A morbid, bloody, shrine.

I haven't removed anything of theirs and by my estimate it's been some 200 or so years since I last saw them. Since they blinked out of my life. It occurs to me that after 200 years, nearly everything they own should be dust. Or rather it would be if not for the internal conditions of the TARDIS. Instead, I know it's all there, just as they left it, awaiting their return.

I can't go in. I won't. Instead I had the ship archive it, file it away like Rose's room and Martha's and Donna's and Peri's and Adric's and Sarah Jane's and Tegan's and so on and so forth, ad infinitum.

Dead rooms.

The TARDIS is full of dead rooms. Empty beds, empty glasses, empty chairs at empty tables.

Never even a ghost to keep me company.

I won't have another dead room. Not ever.

I only show up for River now. By God, I owe her that. That and so much more.

Every other attempt, every call for the most part goes unanswered.

They still try, a message on psychic paper, a letter appearing in my jacket, Vastra luring me with nonsense. When I arrive, if I arrive, think it means there's still some spark left, some interest. But I'm just bored. It passes the time because that's all time can do nowadays, pass.

The spark has gone out and I cannot give it vital breath again.

It died with a Roman.

It died with an impossible, improbable ginger girl.

It died because they died and then something, the last something within me died.

After that, it was easier to give it up than I thought.

Humans, I thought I'd never get done saving you...and then one day... I was.