I wondered aimlessly around the TARDIS, turning down corridors at random and trying doors. Some opened for me – I even found the swimming pool, twice – while others remained tightly locked. I didn't push them. If the TARDIS didn't want me to see, then I probably didn't want to either.

She was trying, the wonderful thing. When I first stopped sleeping, pots of tea had appeared on my bedside table, and then cookies and hot chocolate. Yoga CD's, sometimes accompanied by a very confused instructor, came and went, as well as a spa, and part of the library. None of it worked. Now, she just let me wonder through her many passages, occasionally throwing open a door when she had a new idea. I always thanked her, and apologized after it failed. I just couldn't sleep.

It had been going on for the better part of a month, and the Doctor sometimes said I looked a bit peaky, but never inquired further. I'd never seen him on my nightly walks, but the TARDIS was infinitely huge, so it didn't surprise me that we didn't run into each other.

Which is why I was incredibly shocked when a door to my right opened and the Doctor stepped into the corridor.

"Hello?" I said, not sure of what to say. I was meant to be asleep and I, ridiculously, felt like I'd just been caught doing the wrong thing.

"Ah, Annie, wondering when I was going to find you. The TARDIS mentioned you were somewhere in the Northern quadrant and I was walking around for ages before I remembered I'd changed the polarities a week ago, and I was in the wrong half of the ship. But here you are!" He gestured at all of me, then leaned against a wall. "Funny time to go for a walk."

"I…" I cleared my throat, trying desperately to think of an appropriate response. "I got lost."

"Mmm…" The Doctor said, looking at his watch. "And you've been lost for almost a month. What's going on?"

I blinked at him, unsure. He smiled and reached out for my hand, and then led me through the door he had come from. We were in a large bedroom that had a definite TARDIS-blue theme. There was a bed, and a bookcase, with a fireplace nestled in the corner that seemed to give off hear, but no smoke. Overall the effect was quite like a cottage, all comfy and warm and snug.

"I haven't been in this room before," I said, looking around.

"No," the Doctor replied. "It's my room, only I can open the door."

We walked in and he gently sat me on the bed, and then sat next to me, holding both my hands in his.

"Annie, you're exhausted. Talk to me."

"Nothing's wrong-" but he cut me off with a skeptical look. "No, listen Doctor. Nothing is wrong. I just haven't been able to sleep lately, that's all."

"Is something bothering you?"

"No, nothing. The opposite. I'm so happy here, the things we've seen…" I trailed off, families living in different galaxies waving at me in my memories.

"Is the TARDIS too loud? I could move your bedroom further away from the engines?"

"That was one of the first things she did. She's been trying to help me," I explained. "She's gorgeous, and she's trying so hard, but nothing's worked yet."

The Doctor sighed and stood up, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it across a chair I hadn't noticed before. He then knelt on the floor in front of me and looked me in the eye.

"Do you want to go home?"

A flutter of panic sprung into my stomach, and I tried to pass it off as confusion.

"No, no! Why would that change anything? I don't sleep on Earth, either. Don't send me away, I love it here, please!"

He cupped my face with his hand and I felt my worry begin to float away

"I'm certainly not sending, or asking you to go anywhere. I just wanted to know if you wanted to go. It's OK, deep breaths, Annie."

I relaxed and leant into his hand, closing my eyes.

"Well, I don't want to go."

We were silent for a while, thinking.

"Annie, when you picture Earth, what do you see? No, don't tell me," he said as I opened my mouth. "Just imagine it,"

I let my mind wander around the idea of home. My friends and family leapt to my mind, as did the house I grew up in, and many memories focused around the bush at the back of our house. I thought of lying on the water containers, staring up at the stars, finding Mars and Venus, or the occasional shooting star. I thought of that school camp I went on, where my friend Rob and I talked about the stars and bush-pigs for ages, the memory made me laugh. I thought of the visit to the caves with my family, where there were so many stars that the night sky looked like a full canvas, with a shining background.

The Doctor breathed in deeply and I opened my eyes, and gasped. The lights in the room had turned off and the fire flickered into dying embers, and on the ceiling was a perfect replica of the stars. I lay on my back, watching the twinkling lights and picking out constellations. Right above me was the Southern Cross, shining dutifully, navigating perfectly. The Doctor lay down next to me and tucked the blankets around us, wrapping me in his arms.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

"Everyone needs a piece of home with them," he whispered back.

And with the Earth's stars above me, and the Doctor's comfortable and comforting warmth beside me, I finally fell into a deep and healing sleep.