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Current Location: Deck 10; Section 1: Ten Forward

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The Doctor is at a table in Ten Forward, idly staring at a chip on the end of his fork.

Days keep passing here without anything changing. That room. The Tardis. This situation. The unchanging answers and non-answers to the ever growing pile of questions, and temporal captives.

It's not even that he's specifically hungry, as he twists the fork absently between his finger and thumb, turning the chip in midair. The Enterprise is a stunning ship, but even a facsimile of a chip that Rose was impressed tasted just like home still tastes like a brand new creation of something that was never a potato to him.

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Henry ignored the brush off about his origins. He didn't want to go into his own so why should he push others into it? But the man did seem very knowledgeable about the situation, so he moved a little closer.

"You appear to know a lot about this. What's your name?"

"I happen to do a lot things likes this," The Doctor replied, broad and easy, with a nod.

It was what he spent his time doing, what he ended doing, and what he chased down. It wasn't singular. There were any number of miraculously things he witnessed just as often, maybe even more often, but they both stood in relief from each other. Chaos and Kindness, the universe gave it with both hands.

"The Doctor." Who picked up a chip, without looking away. "And you? What's yours, then? Something illustrious to go along with all your curiosity? "

Henry studied him for a moment. "Doctor what?" Because that wasn't a name, it was a profession.

"I'm Henry. Henry Gold. Nice to meet you." And he held out his hand to shake.

"Just The Doctor." There's a broad, cheeky grin to go with it.

"And you. Very nice to meet you, too, Henry Gold."

"But you have to have a name. Everyone has a name. Your parents couldn't have just decided Yup, we're calling this one The Doctor when you were born." Well, they could have but that wouldn't have gotten Henry anywhere so he neglected to inform the man he believed it.

"Ah, but it is." He said, grinning, watching the wheels in the little boy's head turn. His very child-like attempts at manipulation written across his face like a clear code. "It's what we do. My people. We choose our own names. It becomes everything." Beat. "Nearly everything. Been this way for almost all of my time."

Which was true. As true as their being another name, no one could know or hear.

He'd chosen this. He's made the promise. Made it enough to know what it was to break it and keep it.

The promise, and this name, that the universe whispers on billions of lips. That meant him, and the storm, and eternity.

"You were aware enough of the world when you were born to choose your own name?" Even after everything that has happened in Henry's life, and before it, he can't believe that.

"You might fool other's with that story. But I know better."

"Of course, I was. Everyone is." Ten said back, easy and fast, dauntless amusement and utter honest.

Even a little pity for the kid. But only barely. It wasn't as though it was within his realm to understand. Human. Child. Both totally had a hampering effect. "It wasn't the same kind of name, sure. But they never are. This one was a little beyond that one. More informed."

Like you'd have to be at that point. Once you've seen through the fabric.

"But what about you, hey?" Ten cocked his head. "Aren't you a bit young for judgmental nomenclature relativism?"

Henry cocked his head at the large words. He was clever yes but he didn't know everything.

"No?" He didn't think he was a bit young for anything.

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