He sat alone, in the TARDIS control room, warm salty tears spilling down his cheeks, eyes closed, a look of permanent pain frozen on his face. His shoulders shook with silent, racking sobs. He never let anyone see this. His other side. The side that burns and dies every time he closes his eyes, even for a moment. Nothing takes it away, the last glimpse of home, Gallifrey. The screams of terror, the shouts of pain. Babes crying, children lost and wandering. He had stood horrified and unable to do anything but watch and cry, and it tortured him everyday, every night, every time he closed his lids, even for a moment. Blood and death every time he blinked, every time he slept. He put his hands to his weeping eyes and a strangled sob escaped his trembling lips. And then, it stopped. Tears stood still on his cheeks and he rubbed his eyes. He leaped up and drying his hands, pretending like nothing happened, just like every other weekend.
The End