There is fire and death on Gallifrey, screams and moans of pain, pleading that he cannot hear but for a distant whisper. It is a familiar dream, and yet, this time, so much more devastating, so much more painful. He feels them, feels their dual-hearts stopping, sees the destruction but cannot hear it, and somehow it is all the worse for it. He runs to them, embraces them, tries to direct them to safety - but he cannot hear their words, nor they his. He is locked away, blocked by an intangible mist that holds his saving voice in, keeps his brilliance away as so many years ago, physical distance did.
The Doctor wakes. Or so he thinks.
But the TARDIS is cold and alien. Its lights do not comfort him, its noises are unintelligible to his ears. He wanders it like a lost sheep, feeling more alone than he thought possible, until around him the walls begin to tear, to crumble, and he sees -
Everything. Worlds, planets, stars, universes - colliding in upon themselves until there is nothing left, nothing but him and the void.
The Doctor's eyes are red and tired, and he rubs him when the nightmare has released his mind. There is something wrong. Something horribly, terribly wrong. And as always, he must fix it.
"Hold together with me, old girl," he coos, patting an instrument panel comfortingly - more for himself, he realizes, than for her. "This is going to be a big one."
A/N: Let us know what you think, guys, and forgive the rusty characterizations, if they are rusty - it's been a while since either of us has played/written some of these guys.