Fear.

You always recognized it. You'd seen it a hundred times in the faces of a hundred people over the past hundred days. It was an expression that never failed to make you feel hollow, like there was something you could be doing but you just couldn't do it in time.

And right now, a little girl was looking up at you with that look. The look of fear.

You didn't notice how her skin was red, or how she had white markings across her cheeks, or that her blood was blue and not red. All you saw was a scared little girl who knew she was about to die.

In a moment, the fear was gone from her eyes and you soon recognized another expression. But it wasn't really an expression at all, was it? In fact, it was the lack of an expression entirely. Empty eyes, no breath, no panic. Complete stillness.

As you stared into the girls lifeless eyes, you realized you didn't know her name, where she came from, where her family was. She was just another nameless girl who'd died. But she was still important. Just as important as you, just as important as the Doctor.

You felt a hand on your shoulder as the world came back to life around you. Screaming, gunshots, fires blazing, missiles whistling.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do." The Doctors voice rung out as he helped you up, the girls body falling to the ground from your hands. You found yourself sickened from the truth of the statement.

You forced yourself to run with the Doctor. You couldn't save her, but you could try and save the people that were still alive.

After you and the Doctor had saved that planet, he was back to his cheery self. But you weren't. How could you be? You slumped in the pilots seat, thinking back to that little girl. You were still fairly new to all of this. Was it always like this...?

"So, I was thinking we could go back to 1804, maybe watch Jacque Louis David paint Napoleon's portrait? Well, that's if---" He stopped himself, seeing your somber expression.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a softer voice.