Work Text:
A goldfinch flew into the TARDIS, hit the wall and dropped. The Doctor knelt and gently revived it. "Close the door."
"He needs to be free," I objected.
"Yes, Nyssa," said the Doctor, "but not yet." He peered into its tiny face. "He has a concussion."
We canceled our plans and stayed on Earth two days to tend to the finch. He flew out of the TARDIS as unexpectedly as he'd flown in, never to return. "That means he's okay," explained the Doctor.
I've been on Terminus a year and the Doctor hasn't returned. I guess that means he's okay….
