Dreams
The Doctor hadn't slept in four days.
He had tried, many times. And whether it was fitful or deep, on the cold steel floor of the TARDIS or in the most comfortable bed imaginable, the nightmares always managed to find him.
Sometimes it was Rose, sometimes Martha. Sometimes Donna, sometimes River, and even Oswin had made an appearance or two.
But most of the time, it was the Ponds that the nightmares would snatch away from him, and the end was always the same: he would wind up alone, adrift in the darkness, crying out like the abandoned, distressed war orphan he had once been.
Crying the names of those he had killed, those he had lost, and those he would never see again.
And every time he would wake, and his fear of loneliness would be staring him right in the face, as clear as day.
He had no one. With only his memories to haunt him, and no one to talk to, The Doctor had nothing to ponder except how much his actions had destroyed. He had started counting the people he had left scattered in his wake on the first day of his new solitude, and he still hadn't scratched the surface even now.
And yet sleep continued to nip at his heels, a basic biological function that even a Time Lord couldn't ignore. And, as always, it eventually won, dragging him back down into the darkness.
This time it was a room with plain gray walls, unadorned but for a single, long sofa in the middle of it. Resigning himself to whatever grim parade of horrors he was going to be forced into watching this time, The Doctor sat down on the sofa with a sigh and stared straight ahead at the door in front of him.
When it opened, however, the person who appeared was the absolute last person The Doctor had thought he would ever see again.
"You," Idris said as she walked over to glare down at her Time Lord, hands on her hips as The Doctor stared back up her, completely gobsmacked, "have got to be the single most ridiculous boy I have ever met in my entire existence. And that is truly saying something."
The Doctor found himself incapable of forming words through his surprise as Idris sat down next to him, looking over with concern in her eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked at last, even though she already knew what his answer would be.
"Not particularly, no."
Idris's eyes narrowed.
"That wasn't actually a question, I hope you know."
The Doctor set his jaw, not at all in the mood for any arguments.
"That doesn't change anything."
"You haven't been sleeping, Doctor," Idris pressed, letting her concern cut back through her irritation. "You can't keep going on like this."
"I know," he replied, but his stubbornness remained in his voice.
"And you honestly expect me to believe you're fine with that, do you?" Idris asked, arching an eyebrow. "That you're just going to let yourself waste away?"
"It does seem like I'd be doing everyone a favor, doesn't it?" her Doctor asked sullenly, looking over at Idris for the first time since she'd sat down.
It was the most devastated she'd seen his face in centuries, and that look was enough to keep her from smacking him.
It was not, however, enough to keep her from getting angry.
"Don't you ever, ever say that," she said lowly, gripping her Time Lord by the shoulders and looking right into his eyes. "Never. You think all you've ever done is cause these people pain? Are you really that blind?
"Or is it just easier for you to hate yourself, after everything you've done, than it is for you to accept that you're still deserving of love?"
The Doctor lowered his head in shame and guilt, and Idris could see the trail of a single tear falling down his cheek.
"Everyone who's put their hearts into my hands," he said slowly, his voice breaking piece by piece, "they've all gotten them broken. At one point, or another, I've broken them all."
Idris pulled her Doctor to her as he began to shake lightly with repressed sobs, running her hand gently through his hair.
"It's all right," she whispered to him, "it's all right. Let it go. I'm here for you. I always will be. Let it go."
And her Doctor wept. He wept for his people, lost and gone. He wept for his friends, his loved ones, and everything that the Time War had ripped away from him. He wept for all of the humans he had hurt, and all of them that he had tried to help, only to fail. He wept until his eyes were dry, until his lungs burned and both of his hearts pounded against his ribs, and yet still Idris held him close.
"Do you hear that?" she asked softly at last. "Do you hear my heart, beating?"
Her Doctor said nothing, but she could feel him nod against her.
"It will always beat for you, no matter what," she said gently, confidently. "I will never, ever leave you. You won't ever be alone, my beautiful boy."
The Doctor felt the warmth next to him fading, and knew that the dream was coming to an end.
He opened his eyes, and found himself looking up at the glowing TARDIS console from his place sprawled out on the floor. The Doctor got slowly to his feet, feeling a good deal lighter. He knew in his hearts that his wounds were far from healed, but a start was a start.
The Doctor walked over to the console and placed his hand against it tenderly, hoping that the gesture could convey some small fraction of his gratitude.
The warmth of a slight energy spike coursed through his hand and spread throughout his body, and The Doctor knew his message had gotten through.
"You and me, girl," he whispered. "You, me, and the universe at our feet. Let's go exploring."
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A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed it! Definitely turned out more emotional than I thought it would, for sure. But I guess I should've seen that coming. Writing Idris was a lot of fun.