An eye flickered open, just one at first. The Doctor could hear his hearts beating in his ears. He opened his other eye. As the blur focused, it registered that he was lying face down on… pavement? A blast of air filled his lungs as he inhaled, causing his chest to ache. He squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them, trying to clear the scene.

Cracks are closing. Right, the Doctor thought, Flew Pandorica into exploding Tardis… Wait, is that right? I believe it is… Being erased from existence… But saving Amy and Rory. Good. Both eyes opened. He was rewinding through his time lime as it disappeared around him. Where am I now? He shifted his arms underneath him, palms flat on the pavement. As he tried to push himself up a shriek of pain shot through his joints, causing him to fall back onto the ground. He moaned softly in pain. I'm dying, technically; of course there'd be pain.

He craned his head up, glimpsing to see where he might be. There was a brick wall before him, about three meters away. Less than a meter behind him was a second brick wall and… the Tardis! The Doctor managed a grin. Oh, that is brilliant! I'm with my ship… in what appears to be an alley of some sort. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see people moving in opposite directions. Once again, he pushed himself off the ground, this time having more success, standing on his knees uncertainly. He looked down at his jacket, now in much worse for wear. He touched his neck. Bowtie still in tact. Cool, He thought. He was once again aware of how badly his whole body ached. Every limb felt bruised. Must figure out where I am. He gazed out of the alleyway, watching people walk past. Leaning on the Tardis for leverage, he hoisted himself to his feet. He stood up straight and brushed the dirt and stray gravel from his jacket and trousers, further inspecting the damage to his clothes.

He stepped out of the alley, scanning his surroundings. Snippets of conversation filtered into his ears. English. England English. London English, he determined, trying to decipher the cacophony. Am I in London? He looked over his shoulder to see the London Eye hovering before him. He smiled at the familiarity until something else came into view. In the distance of the clouds, a massive craft drifted through them. The Doctor turned around and narrowed his eyes in confusion. Another immense thing floated past the first.

Zeppelins? But the London Eye wasn't erected until the turn of the millennia, almost 60 years after the blitz, he wondered, Unless…?

The Doctor's eyes widened. He turned on his heel in a flash and rushed back to the Tardis. He fiddled with his inside-jacket pocket, searching for the key to the ship. The lock stuck several times as he frantically tried to turn it. He cursed under his breath. The tumblers finally turned. He pushed himself into the Tardis, stopping abruptly in the doorway.

The ship was silent and dark. The unusual stillness sent a crawl up the Doctor's spine. He took a step forward and laid a hand on the railing leading up to the controls. There was no soft vibration beneath his fingers; The only light was spilling in from the open doorway. He approached the controls and flipped a switch. Nothing. He tapped absent-mindedly on the keyboard; there was no response. His pace quickened as he circled the console, trying every switch and button possible. For every action, there was no reaction. As his agitation built, he slammed a hand down on the controls in frustration. He looked up at the central column and swallowed hard. Tears welled in his eyes.

"No," he whispered, the heartbreak visible on his face. "Why did you do this?"

He was in a parallel London and the Tardis was dead. Truly gone. She'd used whatever energy she had left to throw him into a universe where he did not exist in order to save him from disappearing. She had sacrificed herself for her Doctor. He choked down a sob and a tear fled down his cheek. He leaned over the console, gripping the edge until his knuckles went white. He wanted to speak, he wanted to scream, but no words would escape. The sorrow over the loss of his ship seemed to dull the physical pain of his body in comparison. His shoulders shook as a sob rose through him. There, in the pale light of the doorway, he mourned his lost friend.