He leaned against the console, feeling the thrum of the oscillating Time Rotor as the TARDIS drifted in the Vortex. Eyes closed in pain; he listened to the Song of the Universe while she crooned soothingly to ease his heartbreak. He stroked a small Martian pebble within his fingers, finally slipping it into a pocket with a sigh of melancholy. He wished he could pocket memories of loss and hubris as easily.
The Song swelled along with the pain; the ethereal voices of Ood rose to punctuate anticipation in counterpoint. With a spastic jerk of surprise, he slipped to the grating when the psychic link with his meta-crisis… his twin brother, really… came to life and quivered as if plucked like a violin string.
The Song of the Ood shifted; rose in a joyous crescendo of Hope. They sang of the long-awaited Wedding of the StormWolf and of the Dawn of a New Age. They sang of the Valiant Soldier Who Never Killed, and of the Four Knocks that heralded the Ending of a Song. His Song.
The psychic link faded to a pinpoint of light. He was alone once again. The Ood and the TARDIS sang, and he cried.