Disclaimer: Doctor Who is owned by the BBC. The song No Bravery and its lyrics are copyright of James Blunt.
The Doctor and Rose stand by the Tardis, taking in the devastation.
There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
Tears drying on their face.
He has been here.
"This is my fault."
"No." As if with that single syllable she could expunge his guilt, all his guilt.
"I should have stopped him."
"This is not your fault. You didn't do this."
"I didn't stop it."
They fall silent.
Houses burnt beyond repair.
The smell of death is in the air.
A woman weeping in despair says,
He has been here.
The smell of pain; the tang of blood. The smell of destruction; hot, choking ash. The same scent that he has caught countless times, in countless places. The same stench that haunts his dreams.
"I can't do this anymore."
"Doctor?" What does he mean, what can he mean? Not that, please. Not that.
"I can't." So quiet. So, so quiet as if he doesn't want to hear his own words.
"My gran always said there's no such word as can't." She takes his hand. He makes no move to take hers. His hand hangs limply in hers. He's so cold. Not just cool, ice-cold.
He smiles. It's not a smile, full of bitter sadness. "My constant companion is death. The death of innocents. Their voices are silenced, but they cry in my mind. So many. My head…" The words rasp from his throat. Are they intended for her?
She's scared, scared for him, scared that the one universal constant is ending.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
Ancient eyes, too old for the body, telling of an ancient soul. A soul that has seen more pain than any should. The guilt that he carries alone, because there's no-one left to help. And it's crushing him.
"Doctor. Doctor, look at me!" His gaze is unfocused and seems to look through her.
"People die. All the time. Everything ends. You can't change that. But you're there, you help, you do your best." She's crying. She thinks it's a mixture of fear and desperation, but she's not sure. "And that's all you can do. We need the Doctor!" If there was a flicker of response, she missed it. "I need you."
The Doctor is drowning. Drowning in an ocean of pain, weighed down by guilt. But she saves him, gives him her hand and pulls him out.
She looks up, startled by the slight pressure of his hand. He smiles at her, it's nearly a proper smile. She can see the mask dropping over his face as he pushes the pain deep.
"And I need you, Rose Tyler."