Cracks covered everything, and the entire room had taken the color of anciet stone. Pieces of what looked like plaster fell from the ceiling, shattering on the floor. The sound of a low, deep groaning filled the Doctor's ears. Not the humming of his beloved machine that told him she was alright… this was the sound of her death.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked around the control room. The console had fallen in on itself, leaving only a lump of molten metal. The coloumns were cracked and crumbling, and some had fallen down. The only light was a sick red tint shining from the shattered, broken roundrels all over the walls. A clear, somewhat slimy liquid was dripping from the cracks in the ceiling.

The Doctor wiped his eyes, but he couldn't hold back the torrent of tears and sobs. His machine was dying… because of him.

"I'm sorry…" he whimpered, looking at the remains of the Time Rotor. "I wish…"

Suddenly, through the sounds of death and pain, he heard a soft, quiet hum.

"No, it's not fine… you're dying… and it's my fault."

The room gave a weak vibration.

"Yes it is! I have brought this upon us… if it wasn't for me, we…"

He closed his eyes and fell to his knees, crying like an infant. The liquid from the ceiling began to fall like rain, drenching him in seconds.

"I'm sorry… I'm…"

He couldn't continue and his head fell to the floor.

A warm, soothing feeling filled his mind and heart. He looked up, back to the time rotor, which had suddenly started to emit a beautiful blue-green light.

Do not cry… we always knew this day would come.

"Yes… but not like this…"

It does not matter how or why. All things must die.

"But I always thought… hoped… that you would go on forever…"

That is impossible.

"But… but…"

Oh my dear Doctor… Theta… you will always be that small little boy from Gallifrey, no matter how many regenerations you go through. Always fighting and argueing to the end…

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and stood up.

You should leave now. I… I can't hold my spacial structure… I'll fade into darkness.

He nodded and turned to leave, still snifleing.

"I love you…" he said, his hand on the door.

I love you as well… you and no other.

He then walked out, without closing the door.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around to look into his machine one last time. All he saw was the other end of the wooden box.

The TARDIS had fallen into oblivion.

"Farewell old girl," he whispered.

So, this is something with the 13th Doctor (whoever he will be… notice how I cleverly avoided describing him) and his TARDIS. It's supposed to look like a cross between Matt's and Paul's (at least in my mind), but if whatever you saw works, fine. Yes it is sad. I tried to make it tear jerking.