Ten never did finish that sentence. It left Emil confused as to what that meant. He added it to his ever-growing, seething mud pit of doubt. No longer just a shadow at his bedside, he felt Doubt, wearing the garb of Death, hovering over his shoulder. His gaze when locked on the Doctor was at once terrified and completely hopeful. He wanted to believe that there was something better. That there was some big mistake. That maybe, just maybe, he wasn't screwed up after all.

"Okay," the boy managed. A flicker of courage crossed his torn expression. He reached out and took the stethoscope, fidgeted with the ear-things once he realized it wasn't a necklace. "S'cold," he murmured, slipping the metal part under his tunic a little ways.

"My heartbeat...?" It was such a simple reminder. Maybe even a childish one. Emil felt foolish as he realized what it meant, and a protest rose to his lips. "Doctor, I..."