She woke first, slipping away from him while he slept. There had been nightmares, of course, both hers and his. As she stood up, she made sure that his brow was free from the tell-tale creases. He wasn't talking in his sleep, and his grip on her was loose. She brushed her fingers lightly over his forehead and smiled tiredly. At least he was getting rest.

She stopped on her way to the kitchen to change her clothes. Time seemed so strange here that it had stopped seeming abnormal - there were no proper days, minutes, or hours since they never stayed in a solar system very long. The Doctor could tell her in Earth time whenever she asked, but she'd stopped asking. It had stopped being important.

She had tucked her hair back in a ponytail and slipped on a plain t-shirt and jeans. There was a part of her that wanted to look pretty and go the extra mile - the part of her that still acutely felt the Doctor's lips on hers - but she pushed it away. She would be plain, she would be herself, and his grief would pass and they wouldn't have to speak of it. He hadn't meant it. Every moment, awake or asleep, convinced her more and more of that.

She stepped into the kitchen and put hot water on. She'd started drinking tea along with the Doctor. Strong black tea that dried the back of her tongue a bit from the tannins. She still had coffee - the Doctor humored her with an occasional trip to get the finest coffee in the universe, he'd said. It was from a different place each time. She'd laughed at that.

She leaned against the counter, waiting for the tea to finish. She'd had nightmares, too. It seemed the distress beacon had swept in the Doctor's past. She'd felt his arms tighten around her when he slept, when his lips muttered things she didn't understand - Gallifreyan, the one tongue she knew the TARDIS didn't translate for her. She'd tried to stay calm for him, but as sleep claimed her, even her dreams were troubled.

It was the same vision of darkness that she'd had on her first night in the TARDIS. Darkness lit by the dim shadow of dying flames. And the voice: "This is too much - too many horrors have been unleashed. It has to be stopped somehow...I have to stop it. I have to fix what we've done." The voice had started out as a strangers, a softness she didn't recognize, but as it repeated itself, it became the voice she now knew best. It was the Doctor's - her Doctor's, repeating it as a justification for something already done.

What frightened her now, as she carried the steaming mugs of tea back to where the Doctor was sleeping, was that she recognized the Doctor's sleep mumblings as the very same words. And those had been the dreams she understood best. There were others, more vivid, almost not dreams at all. Or at least not her dreams.

The moon, still larger than life in the window as they slowly circled, loomed over her. They were on the dark side of the moon now, and she stood for a moment to admire this view that almost no one on earth would see, at least not in her lifetime. Well, not her natural lifetime. So many things wouldn't exist in her natural lifetime that she'd already seen.

She sat gently in the space she'd vacated earlier, where the Doctor's body had accommodated for hers on the sofa. She was perched there, on the edge of the couch, despite the fact there were half a dozen other places to sit. She put his tea on the table at the end near his head and clutched her own mug against her chest, breathing it in. She was glad he was sleeping. That the nightmares seemed to be leaving him alone. Nightmares of darkness and fire and guilt and grief and oh-so-much loneliness. She felt that in her bones, the loneliness. It was why she was sitting so close to him now. She wasn't going anywhere.

His arm wrapped around her, pulling himself slowly up to a sitting position behind her. His head rested in the space between her shoulder blades, and she gave him a minute to gather himself. It felt comfortable, his breathing in time with the filling of her lungs. She sat still, savoring the moment.

After a long moment, his head moved up to her shoulder. "You're up early." He breathed in deeply. "And you made tea."

"Got a cup for you, too." She stretched out her arm and brought the mug close to her side where he would be able to grab it. He took it from her, but held his arm there. With his head on her shoulder and his arm wrapped around her side, it was all she could do to sip calmly at her tea.

"Not coffee?"

"Nope."

She felt him shuffle around until he was sitting mostly beside her, taking a sip of the tea before looking at her seriously. "What's wrong, then?" He paused, waiting for her to answer. She took too long gathering her thoughts, however, and she felt him tense. "Last night, you were fantastic," he said softly. "I wasn't at my best and all that. You were more than I could have asked for." He took another deep breath over his cup of tea. "Still more than I can ask for."

She turned her head slightly so she could see him out the corner of her eye. "What are friends for?" She smiled weakly at him.

"Right. Friends. Fantastic friends." He gave her that grin, the one she could feel brighten the room whenever he used it. The air caught in her throat and she choked a little. It was the last thing she wanted to do, because his expression changed.

He didn't say anything, waiting instead for her to respond. She set her tea down, afraid her shaking hands would spill it. She'd learned to take risks since being with the Doctor. But this... she had a sudden image of herself watching the TARDIS fade away for the last time, leaving her to make a new life without him, and it hurt. She wanted to stay with him, wanted to be with him. And if he was jerking her around right now, with all this emotion and holding her close and even last night's kiss, well, she wanted all of that. She sighed and leaned back into him slightly. "You are so going to toss me out into space for this."

His mouth started to form a response, "For what?," when she pressed her lips to his. It was an awkward angle, her head tilted back and to the side to get close enough to him. She tried to stop herself from thinking, from imagining the consequences which were far too close for her liking. Instead she turned into him, bringing her hand to his chest to steady herself. Another part of her brain was delighted with how good a kisser he was. Still another was noticing that he had set his tea down. And another was thinking she had waited for too long to do this.

All of that thinking prevented her from noticing the Doctor hearts speeding up. From feeling his hand at the middle of her back. From realizing that his relief was as palpable as her worry.

She did, however, notice the small groan that slipped from his lips. Her eyes snapped open and she pulled back, taking a shaky breath. Her body was facing his now, and his hand pressed into her back, holding her in place. "For that," she managed. "Sorry. I mean, I'm not really sorry. I wanted to do it. But I understand if you aren't, I mean, if you don't want to be..."

"You're getting as bad as me, with all your talking." She smiled abashedly, and he answered with a grin. "But you are really brilliant, Miranda. Really. Very. Fantastic." He punctuated each of the last three words with a soft kiss first on her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. He pulled her with him to recline on the sofa. Her body felt comfortable against his, and she snuggled closer against him. All that worry and waiting, and what for?

"I dreamt of you last night." The words came from out of nowhere, into their comfortable silence.

"Yeah? Good things?"

He didn't answer her question, and she could almost hear his thoughts turning over and over in his head. "I was on Gallifrey. Red plains, birds singing, schlenk blossoms in flower, the suns burning beautifully above us." She tilted her head to look back at him. "We were sitting there on the plains at first. In a spot I used to go to as a child. Used to catch flutterwings – like butterflies – on the slopes of the mountain when I was just a Time Tot." He smiled vaguely, and he knew the memory should have been only for him, if she hadn't seen it the night before, too.

"We were just there, on the plains, enjoying a little downtime. It was good for the soul. And then…"

He was struggling for words. Each attempt at describing what he'd seen when dream turned to nightmare brought another look of searing pain to his face. It twisted her heart painfully, and she laid her fingertips lightly on his lips. "I dreamt it with you."

He stared at her, pain and disbelief warring in his eyes. "You saw it? The fire and darkness and…" His grip on her tightened as he sought physical reassurance from her.

"I saw the red plains and the orange sky, the sun rising in the south and making the mountains glow. I saw the snow at the top of the mountains and rested under a silver-leafed tree that reflected the morning sun until it looked like the whole forest was aflame. I saw a lake filled with fish that could sing. And the best part? I saw you smile. I saw the weight come off your shoulders. It was wonderful." She moved her fingers over his hand, tracing their shape, sliding over each knuckle. She wanted him to relax and forget the rest of the dream, but she knew he was waiting, needing to hear if she'd been plunged into the same hellish landscape as he had.

"I saw the war. The Dalek ships crashing against the Panopticon. The fire and darkness. I saw a world that wasn't what it once was – a world that was trapped in a war that could never end. And then it was like... walking in shadow." She saw something pass across his face, but wasn't really sure what it was. "The fire and darkness got so big… so overpowering… I turned to you, to find you…" To save you, she added mentally, starting to cry. "And then there was this room, it felt like the TARDIS…" She stopped, feeling him shaking. She rolled over to face him. He should have been crying – she wondered if Time Lords could cry, or if he'd simply used up all his tears.

She rested her hand on the side of his jaw and gently ran her thumb over his cheek. She tried to think of how to end her description, but he broke the silence, holding her hand to his face.

"I've had that dream a million times. Every time I see the same things. I thought when you were there, on the planet with me, that it wouldn't have to be that way, but you saw it, you stood in that dream with me. And… you changed it." He pressed a kiss to her palm. "When I had to push that button, it was the loneliest moment in the universe. I was destroying everything I loved to save everything else. And I thought no one could ever understand. But you were there this time, really there, not just a product of my daft brain." He looked into her eyes and she lost her breath. "When I had to push the button this time, you held my hand. You pushed it with me, didn't you?"

She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. They both knew that her dream self had wanted to save him from himself, and the only way she knew how was to bear up under half the burden. And there was nothing left to say. He pulled her close against him and she held him tight. They needed each other in that moment. And for now, that was enough.