Everything about this feels so horribly disjointed. His tone and words are only insulting her further; does he think she hasn't thought of communicating with the other him yet, that she hasn't used their bond and this form to make him understand her distress? And how dare he call it a complaint, the sort of thing she does when someone's graffitied her exterior or a companion pushes buttons without permission.

But at the same time she can tell this isn't what he means to do, it can't be and she can sense his contrition and helplessness. His apology is sincere and she suddenly feels like she's hurt him, failed him by not understanding him. How wrong this all is. But she can't make it right, can't reach out and make it better. She's distraught and lost, her anger draining from her to leave her earlier weary sadness.

"I told you to stay away from the rift, not go seeking it out," she argues hesitantly, though she's already considering his suggestion. If another version of her were to link with the rift at the same time as her, surely they would be able to force stability and direction on it. Perhaps she could even get Gabriel to help, she wouldn't let him connect directly to the rift, not after what happened to him, but he could lend her some of his power in some way; heal the damage the rift would cause before it can weaken her. She's torn between not wanting this Doctor hurt and wanting out, unable to speak further for either side of the idea.