As We Keep Running

Epilogue

The Doctor sat in the TARDIS, which had emerged from beneath the glass like all else on the planet. He sighed, considering all that had happened during the day. He put his head in his hands thinking. Though he'd saved someone from killing others, he'd also lost her.

He slowly stood up, approached the controls. Each lever was pulled at the rate of a depressed turtle, but it still was too soon that the TARDIS was flying. He had left a companion so new, so brilliant, alone- by herself in an unfamiliar place.

The TARDIS reappeared in an alley near her house. Only an hour had passed- at least in the time he landed. He silently made his way to her front door, looking at the townhouse. It was ordinary. She wasn't.

He soniced open the door, entering the empty house. There was the kitchen, with the plates from breakfast still out on the table. There was just one thing he needed to do, then he could leave.

The Doctor went into the living room, and there, on the couch, was the cat, Winston. He went and sat next to him. "She's not coming back."

"Meow."

"I know, I'm sorry. It was her choice, I swear. She knew it was... For the best."

"Meow."

"I'll make it up to you, though- I swear."

He picked up the cat gently and carried him outside, locking the door behind him with his trusty sonic screwdriver. Winston and the Doctor walked on the sidewalk for several blocks, passing by many houses just like hers.

Finally they reached the one. The Doctor knocked on the white wood, the sound echoing through the quiet street. The door cracked open to reveal the face of a little girl, about eight. She looked at the Doctor, scared, and then she saw Winston, and grinned, opening the door just a little wider.

"Mama! Papa!" The little girl called, her voice young and sweet and like something even the Doctor was charmed by.

A young woman, about twenty-three or so appeared behind her daughter, still not opening the door entirely. She had an unreadable expression pasted on her face.

The Doctor smiled, seemingly unfazed. "Tell him I said happy birthday."

The woman's mouth opened, confused and shocked by this stranger's knowledge of her personal life, but she still took Winston when the Doctor handed him to her. A gift.

Just like that, the Doctor turned and was gone. He didn't see as a man, the father of the little girl, appeared at the door, opening it completely, and he didn't see the little boy, laying on the couch back in the shadows of the house, entire body broken, crippled. He didn't need to see. He knew.