A/N: Is there a way to reply to reviews? Y'know, individually instead of just up here. Because you guys have been the best, seriously.

Chapter 10

The pockets - that was what she called them, lacking a better word - were getting smaller, closer together. She was running full tilt through empty rooms and abandoned worlds, barely even slowing when the air popped around her.

She saw the same scenes over and over again. Almost like they were haunting her. She'd seen the Ghost Shift room and Bad Wolf Bay too many times to count. But half of them she didn't even recognize. That strange planet burning before her eyes, the lifeless body of a blond man she didn't know, a puddle of flesh-colored liquid.

These weren't her ghosts.

Unfortunately, she had a strong suspicion she knew whose they were, and she wanted to find out why she was running endlessly through the Doctor's nightmares.

Was this the Silence's method of torturing him? She had to admit that it was probably the most effective. The Doctor had a long past and a lot of regrets. The thought made her seethe with anger. She would find him and they would leave this place behind and if the Silence ever showed their faces again -

Another pocket. Rose figured she was getting closer to the Doctor as the size of the pockets decreased. It seemed as good a guess as anything else she could come up with. She was almost there, just a little bit farther.

A sudden contraction of matter forced a gasp from her lips. She stumbled and came to a stop. It was the Ghost Shift room again, but this time it was different.

This time there were people in it.

Rory's familiar blond head looked up upon hearing her footsteps and the look of relief on his face was profound. The Doctor was half cradled in the nurse's arms and half pressed against the pristine white wall that had separated them that day. Behind them both stood a third man: old, short, with thinning hair and an expression of disgust as he observed them. His clothes were remarkably similar to the Doctor's - everything from the tweed jacket down to the red bowtie.

"Rory, what's goin' on?" she called softly, not wanting to disturb the man in his arms. "Who is that?" She nodded toward the stranger.

She need not have bothered lowering her voice - nobody heard her or even acknowledged her presence except for Rory, whose movements practically screamed that he was in over his head. He lifted one shoulder in an imitation of a shrug. "He calls himself the Dream Lord. We met him once before, when he trapped us in a dream. A nightmare, really." His eyes flickered to take in his surroundings. "A bit like this."

"So this is a dream. The Doctor's dream."

Rory nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Well, the Doctor's plus everyone else who's touched him. That explains all the sleeping people out there. They're all trapped in this dream, too, except they don't know what's happening. I hope it wasn't too bad for you getting here. I imagine anyone who's traveled with the Doctor has plenty of fuel for nightmares, and the Dream Lord seems to hate all of us, though it's worst for the Doctor."

She shook her head, confused. "I didn't see anything of mine. Stuff that involved me, yeah, but it wasn't mine. It was his." She nodded at the Doctor. "Speakin' of which, how come he hasn't even looked at me?"

"I don't know. It's not like he didn't spend the last hour calling your name until he lost his voice." He craned his neck to look behind him. "And he's awfully quiet, too. Usually he won't shut up." He paused. "You know, I don't think they can see you. Or hear you."

Rose frowned. "Doctor?"

The Doctor almost knocked Rory over as he turned to her, face ashen.

"Rose?"

The voice that spoke was not the Doctor's. She raised her eyes to the Dream Lord, who was staring at her with the same tangle of hope and despair. Then she looked at him - really looked at him - and realized.

They were the same man.