Re: The Doctor (Eleventh) | Doctor Who | OTA
He let himself be pulled up without resistance, then leaned into the Doctor's embrace, resting his head on his shoulder. His fingers curled into the fabric at the back of his shirt. He felt no need to speak--which was interesting in itself, since often his tongue would run as if it were on wheels--but merely took comfort in his presence. Physical contact, the warmth of another body, was just what he needed to convince himself that he wasn't alone. He drew in slow, steady breaths, swaying against his older self.