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The Doctor stands in the train station and stares at the ringing phone. He isn’t going to answer it. Of course he isn’t. His mind has already done the mental calculations a thousand times this day, the hypotheticals, the guesswork, comparing his lists of goodbyes to his lists of losses, finding that section of the Venn diagram within which fall the people who have left him and whom he never said goodbye to and--
He can’t not.
His fingers tremble slightly as he pushes the little accept call button.
Time feels like it’s rushing by and yet in such slow-motion that his brain has a thousand milliseconds to prepare.
“Hello?” he asks, cautiously, into the void.
Whoever answers back, he’s thought of her. Maybe Charley. He isn’t sure if he’s ready for that ( he did throw her letter in the trash, after all ). Maybe someone older. It can’t possibly be Lucie or Tamsin, though part of his brain is in full-fledged grammatical pedantry mode--he’d never said goodbye --oh, he wishes he’d had…
“Um, hello?” a teenager’s voice responds.
The Doctor feels his veins turn to ice. Where had he missed that one on the list? The noise around him muddles into an incomprehensible tumbling stream and he alone is stationary and frozen.
“...Hello? Is someone there?” the voice asks.
Maybe if he just doesn’t answer, they’ll hang up. Yes. That’s a better idea. But right at the critical moment before he senses the call about to ended, his brain or maybe his conscience screams but Susan and--
“Alex,” he manages to blurt out.
An extremely awkward pause.
“...Grandad? Is that you ?” the voice on the other end of the phone asks quizzically.
“Yeah, me!” His voice is hysterically squeaky in his attempt at humor. Of course this is normal.
“Er, why are you on the phone? I wasn’t calling you,” Alex says.
So, Alex's call had been re-directed. The Doctor tries to get his mouth to spout off some sensible explanation, but his brain is far too scrambled for that.
“Oh, the—the TARDIS, the space-time continuum, it does, does some strange things,” he manages lightly, then deflects. “So where are you?”
“Um, our world tour? You know, the trip?”
The Doctor’s stomach turns.
“Oh,” he says, wobbly. “Oh—ye—yes, yes, yes. Sorry, I...I forg— where exactly are you? Is it...good?” He’s repeating, babbling, but he doesn’t care. Anything to distract from the sudden sick feeling.
“Blimey, did my mother set you up or something?”
“No,” he manages. “No, I just—just wanted to check in.”
“Well, we just got to the Phi Phi Islands.”
The Doctor says nothing. He’s heard the recording too many times, every word. He’s afraid if he says anything now he’ll give it away—every word. There’s a lot of background noise on Alex’s end. People. Suddenly, one cuts through in the background, high and clear and strong—something about “hey Alex, we want to go to the beach, are you coming—”
The Doctor hasn't realized how much his fingers had tightened around the phone till they start hurting from the sheer pressure. It feels like every single drop of blood in his body has suddenly chilled and dropped into his toes.
“Yeah, I’m coming, just wait,” Alex says to her.
“—who're you talking to?—” she asks in the background.
The Doctor wants to say something, but he can’t. He’s frozen in absolutely terror. All he knows is that he can’t talk to her, he can’t, and he shouldn’t, either, and he prays Alex will catch the drift.
“You just go ahead, I’ll be there in a sec!” Alex calls to someone walking away, before returning to the conversation. “Look, Granddad, I’ve got to go, do you have to tell Lucie something?”
Yes, everything! the Doctor wants to scream.
“No, it’s fine, you—you go,” is all he stammers instead. He can’t even add something as simple as “maybe stay inside” or “don’t forget to take some painkillers with you” because then in a few days it will all seem so specific, so obviously pointed. “Yes, of course.”
“Okay, bye—”
“Just—remember to keep in touch with your mother, okay?” The words come out all in a rush, like he has to say them. “She—wants to hear from you. She love...she loves you.” (I love you)
“I know , tell her not to worry—I can take care of myself,” Alex says, sounding a little annoyed.
“I know,” the Doctor replies. Empty of all emotion. “Have a good...time.” ( hour ? day ?)
“Yeah, we will. Bye, Grandad.”
The Doctor considers staying quiet and waiting till the phone hangs up, but polite habit automatically carries him forward when his emotions are still stalled five minutes in the past.
“Goodbye, Alex,” he says. Not whispers. Not yells. Just...says, as if it were a remark about the weather and not the last thing he’ll ever tell him.
The Doctor stands there for he doesn’t know how many more moments long after the line goes dead, listening to the buzzing in his ears and the meaningless roar of traffic all around, as if waiting for another call, but none comes. When he lowers the phone he is surprised to touch his face and find it wet. He’d been so concentrated on keeping his voice calm that he hadn’t paid attention to his eyes.
He could have stood there forever, paying attention to nothing but the blur of movement all around and feeling nothing at all, just existing, but he suddenly feels he is being watched and lets his eyes flicker up.
Liv and Helen are both standing on the station floor, staring. He feels a sudden rush of panic. Have they heard anything?
“Liv!” he exclaims lightly, voice cracking slightly. “I thought you’d gone.”
“We had, we came back looking for you—you hadn’t come yet,” Liv says. “Doctor, are you—”
“I’m fine,” he states defensively, swiftly pocketing the phone, in a tone that makes it clear he will brook no arguments. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Doctor…” Helen begins, but he’s already halfway up the station stairs.
“Come on!” he calls back. “The train is on the other side, and we’ll miss it if we don’t hurry.”
He sees Liv and Helen look at each other, then follow him. As for himself, he’s already up the station stairs, leaving the past behind him as he steps into the sunlight.
.
“Please look after him,” he’d whispered to Lucie. It had been such an earnest request. He’d really meant it.
“I will, Doctor, promise…” Lucie said, and he had no doubts as to her capabilities.
.
“Look after Lucie, please. And don’t let her teach you any bad habits,” he’d said to Alex. It had been a nice day, and he had felt so very happy out in the snow. “Safely home now.”
.
Yes, safely home. That’s where he wants to be.