"Home," she murmurs instantly, and then can't tell why she said that. Reason and reality are running out through her fingers like sand and she's getting too weak to grasp them. With a small sigh, she leans into Gabriel's embrace and rests her forehead on his shoulder.

"Myself," she tries next. "Time." Did he ever realize those are very nearly the same thing? She can't remember. "There is... a rupture. It will tear me apart. Has. Is. It is tearing, pulling, piercing--" A shiver runs through her and she just barely stops herself from getting caught in a mental loop of distress. "But I am holding it, until the Doctor saves me. Or until I save him." If the only thing she can do before her own destruction is to bring the Doctor to safety, she will be glad.

While she struggles to put these overwhelming facts into too small words, her mind unwittingly flows closer to Gabriel's again, reaching out for his comforting presence.