The Doctor had given her medicine, what little bit he had aboard, to make her sleep. He hated it, because he wanted to be constantly reassured that she was well, that she would recover. He had stepped away only once since he'd carried her back on board, and that was to take them somewhere else, somewhere away from the volatile little moon that had almost cost him what he was not yet willing to pay. Between the physical wounds and the mental strain, she should be dead. He held her newly-patched hand as she remained in the drug-induced rest, watching every twitch of her eyelids. She was dreaming. She hadn't dreamed for the first three days he'd been keeping watch. This was a development, a sign of life. He muttered thanks to any being that could hear him that she seemed to be improving. And then he found himself wondering what she was dreaming.

He knew he shouldn't even think about it. He should ask her permission, each and every time. While this body wasn't particularly psychic, as some of his previous ones had been, he could still miss the brush of minds. It was a reassurance so basic to Time Lords that it was likened unto a child hearing a mother's heartbeat. And he needed reassurance now. He felt his hands shaking in hers sometimes during the night, when he was fighting off his own nightmares as well as hers. And she had so-easily received the calming sensations he sent her when he first brought her back, as though she were desperate for the same contact. And the dreams and nightmares they'd shared so many times in the past few years were something. Almost like she was giving him permission to be in her mind because she was so clearly in his.

And so he brushed her hair out of her face, away from the burn that was healing so slowly he wasn't sure if the nanogenes had it in them to make her recover fully. They seemed broken, to be focusing on her extremities first, but there were still slow and steady progress. He caressed her new skin on her forehead. "Keep fighting, Miranda. Don't you leave me just yet. Too much to show you. Too much to tell you."

Then tell me.

He blinked. He'd heard her, clear as day, but her lips hadn't moved. It was as much invitation as he needed, and now it was a mystery to solve.

He laid his hand on her forehead and felt the rush of information, emotion, and raw sensation that accompanied entering the mind of another living being. And hers, still stretched and raw after her encounter with the heart of the other TARDIS, was unlike any he'd been in contact with before. There were still golden strands giving last, dying breaths into the space of her mind, and he took a moment to be awed by it.

Her presence was evident everywhere around him, as though she wanted to remind him that this was her mind, her territory, and he was but a guest in it, Time Lord or no. It was an unusual feeling for him, to be in a place so perfectly assimilated into someone else. In his TARDIS, he was lord and master, and when he stepped out of it, he still understood more than most people. But here, it was utterly foreign, despite Miranda's familiarity. Even as he thought that, he felt the brush of her presence against his.

"Doctor." Her voice came to the foreground of the rush of information. No doors were closed in her mind, and everything was flowing past the both of them. He focused on the voice, and an image of her appeared in his mind's eye. But she was beautiful. Not that he didn't always think she was beautiful, and always had, but here, in her own projection of herself, flowing with the power of the Time Vortex, she was a goddess. He had never believed in such things before, but now he had the impulse to fall down and worship.

She must have sensed it, because she changed in front of him, into the girl he had met at her home in the middle of nowhere, plain and perfect in jeans and a t-shirt, radiating none of the glory from a moment before, though he could still see it in her eyes, gold and fire and a depth he hadn't anticipated. He wondered how much the invasion of her mind had changed her.

"Less than you think." Her tone was teasing and gentle. Tired, too. She was still outwardly asleep, but the rest she was getting had not yet fully recharged her mind. He would save his questions for later. "I promised I'd be with you when you needed me. I'm not getting out of that promise so easily." She laughed quietly, and they were suddenly on the plain of Gallifrey. It was a shallow version, but seen with awe and love, and the sight of it here, in her space, reminded him how much he cared about her.

She lay down on the soft red grass and held her hand out for him to join her. The warmth of the sun was strangely accurate - like the Serengeti, as he had once said. He shed his jacket, or rather, thought about shedding his jacket and it was so. He took her hand and sat down beside her, letting himself be pulled into a reclining position as she did the same. It was comfortable, with no threat of nightmare looming. It was peaceful, and with every passing moment, it felt more like the Gallifrey he knew. "That's alright? I don't mean to, I think I'm taking it from you. Your memories."

"You shouldn't be able to get in there." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement. He didn't know how much the exposure was affecting her psychic abilities, and he rather selfishly wanted to take it all in while he could.

"Not normally. But it's like a locked door - once you put the key to it, someone can go through from either side, right?" She leaned up on her elbow to look at him. "I invited you in, after all. Wanted to be hospitable." She stopped, and her eyes looked deep into him for a moment. "I missed seeing you. If that doesn't sound stupid."

"Doesn't sound stupid at all. If you're gonna make me admit it, I missed it too."

"What, seeing your face? Just need to put more mirrors up in the TARDIS." Her laughter was contagious, and he grinned up at her. He looked away from her for a moment, seeing the second sun rising over the mountains and turning everything golden. But still the gold was more vibrant than it should have been, almost living, and the Doctor was reminded that this was not a normal encounter on Gallifrey. There was still danger lurking here, and so much raw power.

"The TARDIS misses you, too." He added it to cover up his own moment of vulnerability, more than anything, but Miranda just laughed.

"She's been saying the same of you, I think. Did you really miss me Doctor? I've only been sitting right there, and you've hardly seen anything but my face for the past few days."

"She's been talking to you?"

"Kind of like we were first talking. No words, I just understand. It won't last long, and I'll forget all of it, I think. Once all these little golden strands untangle from my mind."

"You can see them?"

"I can see everything." Her eyes turned serious, and he knew that she meant the last word with deadly accuracy. "The beginning, the end, and all possible paths in between. It's... a bit much."

"Doesn't that kill you?"

She shrugged and rested her head on his chest. "Won't let it," she mumbled. "Promises to keep."

He held her against him, willing her to be as well on the outside as she seemingly was on the inside. He needed her back with him in a way that was almost childlike. "I have one for you, too, then. I can't promise to keep you safe, as you've demonstrated so clearly." He brushed his hands over her face, which on her physical body was still marred with slow-healing burns. "But I will never ever give up on you. I will always come back for you. Til I absolutely can't."

Her heart was in her throat. There was nothing to say, and words would cheapen that moment anyway. She wished she could be awake so that this moment would be real. Everything in her mind surged with emotion. Her mind felt warm, and bits of gold seemingly melted into her, loosening their grip on her mind without leaving her altogether. She cried, a single golden tear, and he brushed it away. "I'm coming back to you Doctor. And I expect you to show me all those things you promised."

"Every one." He understood that she couldn't sustain this long, this level of illusion for both of them, and he kissed her forehead gently. "I'll be there, waiting."

"Which is saying something, since waiting isn't exactly your strong suit."

"What? I'm good at waiting, me?"

"For things OUTSIDE the TARDIS," she teased. "You just jump ahead."

"Then I'd better learn to wait, don't you think? And this is a good enough reason." The plains and sun and mountains shimmered and faded into nothingness, and soon even Miranda's physical form was flickering. She wasn't used to this kind of psychic interaction. She was usually the passive viewer in someone else's memory, and now she was trying to generate a scene she was drawing from him. "Rest now."

"Mmk." Her body flickered and dimmed, like an old television set whose cathode tube was slowing shutting down. For a long moment, the Doctor let himself linger in her mind before returning back through the way he had come. Miranda was still asleep, but the burn marks on her face and arms were less noticeable. He straightened, re-calibrating to the real world. He had been in her mind for less than an hour, but it was more restful than all the fitful naps he'd taken. He'd wait for her to wake up. And then he was taking her somewhere amazing.