The nightmares are coming. The nightmares are coming for me.

I can't let them win.

Through dark visions, I see.

And so I was entranced by the dance of the Doctors.

And the dance of death.

They twisted and changed all around me.

Chasing me and hounding me.

With every new turn there was another devil.

Another shadow of the Doctor.

And it was in one of these moments, I understood.

I understood the words of Mrs Madigan, and the nightmare children.

Reality is just an illusion.

But this is an illusion I might not wake up from.

I can't let them win.

I can't let them win.

Charlie.

Charlie!

It's calling my name.

Another one. Another Doctor. Another shadow. Another devil.

It could be him. Maybe it's the real one.

But how could I know for sure? How can I tell?

How do I know he's real if reality is merely an illusion?


Charlie fought his way through the TARDIS corridors, through its twisting, turning impossible dimensions.

He tripped and stumbled as the world began to rotate.

Like something straight out of Inception, the walls swept round beneath his feet; his trainers snagged on the perforated metal beams which lined the corridor, converging into a spiral where the corridor stretched to infinity.

He went flying, and crashed into the ceiling, the skin grazed from his palms as he threw his hands out to protect his head.

The spinning was sickening, dizzying; a terrifying rollercoaster ride through time and space.

He pushed himself against the wall, and clamped his hands over his head, trying to shut everything out.

His sense of balance was screaming at him, deceiving him into believing he was turning upside down, out of control.

No, the words fled from his mouth, no, no, no!

His muscles were tense, twitching. Coiled springs, wound in tight knots.

He couldn't move. He didn't want to move.

Why did he have to die? Why?! Why did he have to die, and leave me in this nightmare?

Two hands grabbed his shoulders – exactly in the way the Doctor would when he was trying to reassure him.

He flinched, and his arms locked tighter together.

If he didn't look, then it wouldn't be there. It would go away. It would leave him alone.

"Hey?" the Doctor whispered.

The Doctor's voice was gentle, but he no longer trusted it.

"I would say 'don't despair', but after what you've been through today…"

There was a sigh. The Doctor paused, reflecting on his words.

A warm tingle spread across Charlie's arm, calming him.

"I've seen so much hate, and fear. And I've done some terrible things. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you were afraid of me, right now."

Charlie bit his lip, trying not to cry out.

"What I'm trying to say is: you're not alone," the Doctor was speaking quietly, "Not really.

"I know you don't believe me, because I didn't believe you."

Another sigh.

"I never believed you. Because I thought to myself: you have no idea. You have no idea what's going on inside my head."

The Doctor's grip weakened, but his voice dipped into a grave tone.

"I'm a Time Lord. I walk in eternity. I've lived for thousands of years. And you're a simple human. Your knowledge, your experiences, cannot compare to mine."

The Doctor grunted, murmuring his next words.

"But Charlie. Charlie, of course I don't know what's going on inside your head. Nobody else does. You've had your unfair share of life's worst experiences."

The Doctor had captured his full attention. He could hear every hesitation, every inflection, every strain of worry and emotion.

He wanted to look up, but he feared what he would see. He feared that it was not the Doctor, but another trick.

"I'm just truly sorry that you've had a glimpse of mine. My darkest days…

"You know I don't always win. I don't always make the right decisions. I'm definitely not the 'hero' you think I am."

He paused, and Charlie could imagine the Doctor's smile: warm, laced with a hint of sadness.

"But that won't ever stop us from trying."

Charlie looked up, his eyelids heavy.

The Doctor's steely grey eyes were shining.

"Do you know how strong you are?" he whispered.

Charlie tried to utter a response, but his breath was trapped.

"Nightmares. Monsters. My memories… we can survive them," the Doctor grinned, "Do you know why? Because we always do. We're made of stronger stuff, you and me, Charlie."

Charlie frowned. Those words were familiar…

The Doctor looked at him expectantly, and he remembered where he had heard the words before.

"Wait…"

Charlie had spoken them. Those were the words he had spoken to the crying child in that old barn.

"How do you know…?"

How could the Doctor have known what he had said…?

The Doctor's features wrinkled into a reminiscent grin.

"It's something a kind stranger once told me when I was little."

"But…?"

Charlie's sparking neurons zipped to and fro in his brain, desperately trying to put two and two together. That crying kid in the barn was… the Doctor?

"You? The kid in the barn?"

He had said those things to that kid without knowing who he was. He was just trying to help. He was just trying to be kind, like the Doctor. This meant the Doctor standing before him really was the Doctor. This was the Doctor convincing Charlie he could be trusted.

"But…" Charlie tried to protest, despite the sudden revelation that he had seen what must have been a young Doctor. It was difficult to imagine the Doctor having ever been… as young as that. It had completely swept him away from his mindless flurry of fear.

"Come on Charlie, let's not get distracted," the Doctor urged. "We don't have long left."

Charlie's mind snapped back to the present – and the mission he was burdened with.

"You know how we can save you?"

The Doctor's eyes twinkled for a moment.

"Yes – ah!" he doubled over, swinging wildly backwards, as he was struck by some kind of spasm.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor gasped for breath, as he fell away, arms flailing. He hit the floor, hard.

Charlie realised he was still hunched up against a ceiling panel, and leapt down after the Doctor, quickly helping him to his feet.

"I can feel it. The venom's becoming more potent," he wheezed, clutching a metal beam running along the wall. "Pulling me closer and closer…"

The Doctor's hand snaked across the railing, tracing its path down the corridor.

"Closer to death…" He grinned. "Closer to where we need to go."

The Doctor straightened himself up, smiling weakly as he adjusted his shirt cuffs.

"I'm fine," he muttered, as Charlie shot him yet another worried look.

"You don't look fine."

The Doctor shrugged. "It's the same 'fine' you've been throwing back at me."

Charlie frowned, rather stunned by the Doctor's blasé manner. "You mean…"

"I mean: of course I'm not fine. And neither are you," the Doctor stated. "You know, it is okay to admit that sometimes."

Charlie sighed, his chest tight, bound by all the little lies he'd woven around himself.

He tried to keep his facial expressions in check, but he found it impossible under the Doctor's stare. It was like he completely understood Charlie's embarrassment, his awkwardness, and his guilt.

"We can make it there, Charlie," the Doctor assured him, clasping his shoulders, "It's not going to be easy…"

"I don't think any of this has been easy," Charlie grumbled.

The Doctor's voice resonated with the weight of a thousand sad stories as he spoke: "Saving my life may very well be the last thing you do."

Charlie looked into the Doctor's watery grey eyes for a moment, and a grin played across his lips, fully aware of the irony of what he was about to respond with:

"I can live with that."

The Doctor released him, and momentarily lost in his thoughts, gave him a thumbs up.

Without saying another word, he began to walk.


++INCOMING MESSAGE++

I get up when I want, except on Wednesdays, when I'm rudely awakened by a Sontaran battle fleet. Pond life!

I put my bow tie on, have a cup of tea, and think about leaving Gallifrey...

Ah, sorry. I didn't realise this chapter was over already.

So Charlie's found the real Doctor, now? He lets him know by repeating the words Charlie spoke to the kid in the barn. Well that's just lazy writing...

And I bet the kid was the same as the one from Listen.

Still, this isn't really happening, so it's not like Charlie's Clara'd all over the Doctor's timeline. Small mercies. Adherence to continuity and all that.