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"Hey, hey. it's alright, I'm here," the First One whispered. The Last One didn't answer, still shaking, still silently screaming, still breathing in huge, gasping breaths.
Putting its hands on the Last One's head, it whispered again "I'm coming in, alright? I need to see where you are in there, I need to see what's wrong."
The mental connection took effort. The Last One had always been better than it at making these connections, not that the First One would let itself remember why. Why can't it remember why? Why can't it let itself remember? Why is the block older than it is? How is that even possible?
Eventually, the First One gently pushed its way into the Last One's mind, seeing what the Last One was dreaming of. Bloody rocks, rushing water, screaming, the quiet after the screaming, burning pyres. And guilt. So much guilt that wasn't even their own. Not that they knew that. It knew though, and as much as they hated it, as much as it hated them, this nightmare could not be permitted to continue. Because of how much they loved it, how much it loved them, it could not permit their nightmare to continue.
"Hey, listen to me," The First One whispered out loud, but spoke in the Last One's mind, approaching a child on a bloody riverbank watching a body burn on a pyre. "Listen to me. I know you can here me, I need you to listen."
It put as much strength as it could into it's words. It hated to do it, somewhere in the back of its own mind, but it would be necessary to hypnotize the Last One in order to bring them out of a nightmare as old as this.
"Listen. You are not eleven years old anymore. You are not eleven and I am not ten. It has been at least a century since this happened. You are not on the banks of that river anymore. If you wanted, you'll never be there again. I certainly couldn't make us go back if you were to refuse. Your head is perfectly dry except for your sweat and your tears. Your hands are not stained with the blood of another child. Your hands are empty, you are not holding a sharp and bloody rock. The smoke is not drifting into your face because there is no burning pyre from which there could be smoke. Listen."
The First One repeated this, over and over, until the dream started changing. In the Last One's mind, they were an adult, though their actual age was indeterminate. They were standing in a void now. No river, no bloody stones, no orange sky or red grass, no silver trees. Their hands no longer had blood on them, not in the dream. Their hair was no longer dripping wet from river water, although tear tracks were visible. It had never seen them with tear tracks before. Its hearts hurt. There was nothing in their hands, and they were no longer coughing with watery eyes because of smoke.
The First One breathed a sigh of relief. But its job wasn't over yet. "You need to wake up. It will be difficult, but I am here. You need to let me help, but you have to wake up on your own. Wake up."
They did, in the end, wake up. The Last One woke to the First One's hands resting gently on their head. Blinking, they realised it was up side down. Ah, my head must be in its lap, then. That was comforting. They had missed sitting together like this.
"I can still hear your thoughts, you know," the First One whispered.
"Don't care," the Last One pouted, and oh. That was new. The First One could feel the fear that suddenly flooded their mind. No, not fear, panic. They hadn't wanted it to see them like this, and now it was too late. They knew there had still been some affection shared, but it would surely be gone now. They were an adult, it was too, they should not be like this.
"Hey, hey. It's alright, dear. I don't mind if you think you shouldn't be this way. I'm still going to care," the First One whispered, pulling its hands away from the Last One's face to pull them into its lap fully, cradling them like a parent would a small child.
"It's okay, love. I've got you. You'll be okay." It wrapped its arms around them, pressing its lips gently to the top of their head.
They started crying. "Don' go. Don' leave me. Stay."
"Oh, dear. Hey, hey, its okay. I've got you. I've got you, and I'm not gonna go until you ask me to, alright?" It thought it had already seen them at their most fearful. It was wrong. Now they were terrified and shaking while curled up in its arms.
The Last One was well and truly sobbing now, grasping desperately at its clothes. "Ha'n't I been bad, though? Why you stay if I been bad. I've been mean, I hurt people. Why're you still holdin' me?"
"Oh, sweetheart. I stay because I care. I always care, darlin'. Everyone deserves gentleness, and I adore being able to give that gentleness. Sometimes we need to let ourselves be soft when we hurt. And whenever you need to be soft, I'll be here to hold you."
Its fingers were drifting lightly through their hair and the pair were gently rocking now. The First One hummed an old Gallifreyan lullaby as the Last One drifted back to sleep.