They know exactly where they stand with each other within the TARDIS: the Doctor being the navigator, designated driver, the saviour of world, whilst Danny acting as the faithful friend, the pupil to his teacher, the companion. And so they stand together as the universe slowly burns in their wake, words never spoken between them inside the lonely ship. They never intend to cause damage; trouble seemed to follow them, Danny once noted – but still, worlds collide and people die because they’re involved in the events of history. Threads weave and pull themselves together; drawing the pair into times they never truly belonged to, drawing in death and destruction in their wake and drawing in innocent people, people who never deserved to be there.

The silence speaks more than words when they’re alone together; Danny knows that as he gazes at the Doctor, after yet another ‘accidental’ genocide. He keeps his head down, avoiding his young companion’s eyes – but Danny understands him, in his own human way. Hurt is visible across a man’s face, after all – the Doctor was just like everyone else in Danny’s life, smearing the pain across his face with thought lines rather than with tears. And for once, Danny wants to pry inside and feel the pain within his mind; it’s a morbid curiosity he’s had, to look into the mind of a Time Lord. Someone they’d met on their travels had done just that, as part of some plan or other – but that man had stepped back in horror once he’d seen into the Doctor, and had welcomed the death that had quickly followed it.

“Danny, you can’t.” That had been the Doctor’s first response when Danny had asked to understand the pain of the Time Lords. “You just can’t; I won’t let you.” He argued back even more – if he was going to stay with him, then surely the Doctor would have to help him know what the price was for this adventure. But the Doctor kept refusing and held fast in his stance, until Danny had given up with asking. So when he asks for the second time, Danny expects the same reply – but maybe the Doctor has given up with trying to hold him back, because he instantaneously agrees.

“Are you sure?” Danny asks, and the pair of them enter into a mutual agreement; then, the Doctor’s hands are there, either side of his head and the pathway between them is open – and the pain fucking hurts. He sees the fire and smoke, can feel the heat pushing against his face as the planet – the Doctor’s home, his family, burning out of existence and he’s there as it burns. His hands fumble through the fire and flames, and something reaches out to hold him – it’s the Doctor, he slowly realises – and the scene shifts into an endless tunnel of light and dark, people dying in front of his very eyes as the darkness rushes towards him. Screams; endless screams and crying, and finally, he can understand exactly why the Doctor hides behind the mask; because the pain is killing him.

And just as fast as the realisation hits him the Doctor siphons off the trail, and he collapses into the Doctor’s arms; his mind struggles to find itself through the torment and it’s like being pulled out of an ice hole. It floods through his veins like a poison, except it’s making him stronger as each moment passes; Danny clings onto the Doctor’s sleeves, a life-ring in the emptiness that he now knows like the back of his hand. And so the Doctor slowly helps him to his room as Danny desperately tries not to cry – and he won’t, because he’s too scared to let the Doctor know that it is too much for him – and they eventually reach Danny’s bed.

(continued below)