Everything was falling apart again.
You didn’t know what to do. You were at the end of your rope. You’d escaped into the TARDIS thinking that maybe somehow just being there could make things better. But it wasn’t working.
Alone in the console room of the TARDIS, standing just in front of the closed doors, back to the world and front to your one hope, you finally broke down. You weren’t being watched or judged by anyone. You could finally let the days and weeks of pent-up hurt to run free. And you cried.
Clutching the railing to keep from falling, you stood there as tears rolled down your face and every second of the past few days played through your mind, the emotions spilling out of you in a flood and all control relinquished.
Here you could be yourself. Here you were safe.
But maybe the TARDIS couldn’t do that for you anymore. Maybe you’d finally reached that point in life where the TARIDS couldn’t help you. Maybe your problems were so big and so insurmountable that not even that blue box could fix it.
You thought you were alone, but suddenly he was standing in front of you. The Doctor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know,” you said, choking on your words. “You can’t help me this time.”
The Doctor took you by the shoulders and gripped you tightly. “What d’ya mean, I can’t help this time? You don’t need my help, you never have. You are magnificent, you are. You’re brilliant. You only need me to remind you of it every once in a while.” Your tears slowly stopped and your hiccups went away. “Everything is going to be okay,” the Doctor said.
And somehow, you knew it would.