Vale Undecim
"I'm dying."
"I know."
The girl was young. Alternian, presumably. The starlight refracted through her translucent wings and onto her long, dark hair. She held his hand firmly, hers small and grey, his large and worn. Her gentle voice echoed through the space around them.
"You and I are a lot alike," she said without making eye contact. "Genocide of our entire species at our faults, death and loss of the only others of our kinds left, the laws of time being our burden. I've died quite a few times as well." She gave a hollow laugh.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Yeah, me too."
The drifted hand in hand through the void towards an immense bubble, glowing orange and yellow, vibrant against the darkness.
"Where is it that you're taking me exactly, Miss…."?
"Megido. Aradia Megido. And I'm taking you to a dream bubble."
"Right," he said, without the faintest idea about what she was talking about.
"Basically, if someone dies, then they keep dreaming inside this bubble. All their memories are preserved in here."
They floated up to the edge of the bubble. He could see a slow breeze rustling the silver leaves on the trees inside. The great citadels and domes of the Time Lords towered above, as grand as they ever were, shining in the orange light of two identical suns. Gallifrey was alive. It was real and it was there and it was so alive.
Suddenly, a thin, tall man wearing a long coat floated towards him, smiling. An old friend coming to greet him. An older gentleman in a proper waistcoat followed, with another man in leather trailing behind. They filed in, one by one, wild scarves flying, hats being removed, and each one of them was smiling.
"But that's impossible," he whispered.
"Not really," Aradia responded. "When you think about it, Doctor, the dead never really die. They live on in our memories and dreams. And we live on in theirs."
The man in the trench coat held out a hand at the edge of the bubble, and the Doctor slipped his through the membrane of the bubble and grasped it.
"Welcome home, Doctor," Aradia said.