It never ceased to amaze him just how much comfort he could derive from a friend's hand clasped in his own. His one constant companion through centuries of travel though time and space would die and there was nothing - nothing he could think of to prevent it. The pain was too large and all encompassing for tears, for words, for thoughts…for anything. His mind was swathed in a haze of numbness.
And then Clara reached out and took his hand. Five delicate fingers curled around his own, reminding him that whatever came to pass, he was not alone.
Stunned though he was, in the stillness of this place, the Doctor couldn't help but notice that the tiny hand that gripped his own was hot and inflamed. There were any number of things Clara could have burned herself on. Perhaps he could do something about that. If he could sooth just the smallest bit of her pain, perhaps, just perhaps, it might make his own a little bit bearable. He gently uncurled Clara's fingers from his own and turned up her palm to examine it. And smiled. Instead of the random blistering he expected to find, there were words burned into her skin. And just like that, he could think again.
The Doctor picked himself up off the deck. Rewriting a day's worth of history packed a hell of a wallop. He scrambled over to Clara, who lay dazed at the foot of the steps, and gathered her onto his lap. He scanned her with the sonic, sighing with relief at the readings.
He picked up Clara's hand and saw the words still cruelly burned into her skin. That wouldn't do at all…far too painful, and far too difficult to explain. He rummaged in his pants pocket and came up with a tiny vial of nanogenes, which he tipped out into Clara's palm.
"There you go, little fellows."
In seconds the nanogenes had repaired the burns. The Doctor shooed them back into their container, then raised Clara's hand to his lips and kissed it. "All better now," he murmured whimsically.
Clara moaned softly. "Doctor?"
"You're all right, Clara. I've got you."
She groaned as she struggled to sit somewhat upright, still leaning heavily against the Doctor's chest. "She really doesn't like me…"
"We'll have to work on that a bit more," he chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to Clara's forehead.