He can feel the stare well enough, and he meets it slowly, tugged up by it, matching its intensity as best he can. He's not afraid. He's not afraid.

"You know what," he guesses. "It got inside me, inside my head, made me feel things, see things, all five cardinal senses really. It made me crazy. Just like her. Just like my-"

His voice cracks, oh no, not ready for that yet. Not ready for it ever. Shouldn't have said it, really. Terrible thing to say. To even think. He lets his eyelids slide shut again, briefly, briefly, just to steady himself, before facing the good Doctor again.

"It almost killed me," he says. "Almost."