faderift | Big Guy in the sky, He lied too

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Big Guy in the sky, He lied too

WHO: Doctor and Open (Some locked options in Comments)
WHAT: Doctor’s slower than usual recovery and other needs-must before the shift to Kirkwall
WHEN: From TTT return to Drakonis 30
WHERE: All around Skyhold and nearby outside
WARNINGS: The Doctor's story is sad and depressing and might come out a bit these days.
NOTES: Feel free to use these as starters, or make your own. If you have an idea and want me to write up a starer, send a PM.

Healing Tents
The little TTT group had made sure the Doctor got this far. He was fairly disappointed that he hadn’t healed as quickly as he was used to. On the other hand, given the bit of road-rash on his face from when he fell, it was probably for the best. If that healed too quickly, the game would be up for him. Now he was here, in one of the tents trying to ward off anyone trying to heal him with magic. Mostly, he just wanted to slip back to the cubby that he shared with Jamie and be done with it. He just needed to slip into his Time Lord healing coma and he’d be fine.

"Look, can you possibly do any of this without touching me?"

Herald’s Rest
The Doctor drinks wine now. He can’t stand anything else for now. He’s spending more and more time here. Partly to escape everyone and partly to watch everyone. Mostly, because he’s trying to ignore his feelings about River and his TARDIS. He hates that he feels so alien here. Oh he’s an alien everywhere but on Gallifrey, but here? He actually feels alien. So, he drinks and watches people. He might even be drawn into conversation, if the person is interesting enough.

"You're right, that wasn't a good story."

Griffons
The Doctor felt a special connection to the Griffons. Not only because he could talk to them, but they were a bit like his TARDIS. Glorious creatures. While he knew Potatoes was quite fond of him. Well, story of his life when it came to companions. Today, he was spending time with Little White Monster. Mostly because while none of the griffons were neglected, he had noticed that she had a personality that very few had the patience for. His ability to speak Griffon helped with that. In some ways she reminded him of River. Which he found oddly comforting.

"All right, girl, let's see what we have for you today."

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When Anders had issued the warning about Oghren, the Doctor took that to be more of a challenge. Jamie tried to intervene and, well, all things being equal, the Doctor took that as a challenge as well. He knew Jamie didn’t understand and he knew that he wouldn’t ever explain things properly to this Jamie unless he was forced to. That said the Doctor had been spending a lot of time at Herald’s Rest. It was a good escape, especially when he didn’t want to have Serious Conversations with people who might know something about his past. And now he was back in the relative safety of Jamie's cubby. (The Doctor would never really claim any sense of ownership of anything here.)

“Last time someone tried to get me to talk about things, they told me to ‘Keep it real’. So, how real do you want it? You know a bit of my life. You travelled with me. Is it really something you want to know about?”

The conversation about the drinking contest had been odd - but then again things had been odd ever since the Doctor had turned up here. Starting with that whole business with regeneration and changing faces, as a matter of fact. He didn't think he'd ever truly understand that, despite the Doctor's efforts at trying to explain what had happened. Not that not understanding was all that much of a problem by itself, since there'd been plenty of things that he hadn't really understood, over the past few years. His natural tendency to accept things had helped there, at least to a certain extent...but being faced with a Doctor that was so unlike the man he'd remembered was difficult, and there'd been more than one time where he'd been left wondering what had happened to change him so drastically.

Still, he'd also gotten used to the Doctor not really explaining things when he asked about them, and that part at least had seemed to be the same with this Doctor as well. So the offer, when it was made, came as a bit of a surprise, and there was a flicker of it on his face as he looked up from the drone he'd been cleaning out.

"Do you really mean you'll tell me if I say yes? You'll not just give me half an explanation and then change the subject?"

He considered Jamie's question carefully.

"I promise I'll do my best to explain it properly." He paused. Nope, that was still too open-ended. "This is about my past, though. Things that happened before we met again."

He'll not talk about the future of this place, even if he was sure that Cosima and Hermione probably told Jamie all about it already. He wasn't going to do that. He lowered his head. He hoped it would be enough, but wasn't sure it would be.

In this case, the Doctor was wrong, at least when it came to what Jamie'd been told. So far, he hadn't been told a thing, but perhaps that was for the best. If he had gotten an inkling of what had happened, he'd be far more likely to be asking questions about that, instead. Without knowing about that, however, he simply nodded, twisting to the side just long enough to set the drone and the tools he'd been using aside before turning back to face the Doctor.

"Alright. Let's hear it, then. Where do you want to start?"

The Doctor being wrong. It's been known to happen. On occasion. Sometimes. Little things that don't matter. (Like the planet NOT being destroyed by trees.) Anyway, back to the situation in front of him.

"What? You want me to jump right in without even one glass? I thought this was because of that drinking challenge."

He's mostly not kidding, even if he says it lightly. Okay, fine, no drink, no overly emotional story.

"I was told I shouldn't travel alone, so I cut someone's head out of a cyber-robot and glued it back onto a body. He now travels with me. Even pilots the TARDIS pretty well."

What? That's pretty much all there is to Nardole. Nice and safe.

It'd never been entirely about the drinking challenge, at least from Jamie's point of view. He was still trying to figure out what had happened to change the Doctor so much, and if some drinks were going to help with that, then so be it. Having the Doctor use that tone and then promptly turn around and say something that frankly sounded like he was making it up, though...well, it was a good way to get his lips to press together and his mouth to tug off to one side.

"Och, I knew you weren't going to take this seriously. Why do I even bother?"

Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to a chest that sat flush against the far wall and flipping the lid open. After a few moments of rummaging, he pulled out a small sealed cask and a couple of wooden cups, thrusting the latter out at the Doctor.

"Fine, you want a drink? Here's that Qunari stuff I mentioned. It's called mara...maraas-lok, and you can thank Korrin for it later on."

His jaw drops. "Jamie, that was me... "

He sighs, grateful that Jamie wasn't going to leave him. He finds two glasses in his pockets (what? it happens with his pockets.) and offers Jamie one.

He took a sip and shook his head once, because wow, that was pretty powerful. But... good.

"I am taking this seriously. I just... things like this are hard for me. That is how my most recent companion became my companion. What I'm leaving out is the most recent person who told me that I shouldn't travel alone..."

He takes another sip. Because he hadn't talked about her since... And he doesn't know he'll be able to do it now...

"It was..." another sip. "... my wife. On the day I sent her to her death."

He gives Jamie a look that says 'Is that real enough for you?'

Well, the glasses were a step up from the wooden cups he had, and with a shrug he accepts the glass from the Doctor, filling it only partway before putting the cups away again. There was enough maraas-lok left to have more than that - but since he's not sure if Korrin will be able to get another shipment at some point down the line, he's been conserving what's left.

That may very well change, though, because what the Doctor says is quite possibly one of the last things he'd ever expected to hear, and his eyebrows wind up shooting up far enough that they practically disappear into his bangs.

"Your wife?"

It's so much at odds with what he remembers of the Doctor's reaction to lassies that it almost seems as improbable an idea of scooping out someone's head and attaching it to a body. Granted, the lasses who'd tended to be interested in the Doctor were the ones like the malevolent Chairman Babs or the evil Hecuba...so maybe it was understandable why there'd been that sort of reaction in the first place. Still, it's enough of a surprise that he winds up staring at the Doctor over the top of his glass for a good few seconds before he manages to get past it enough to ask another question...or two.

"And how do you mean you 'sent her to her death'? What happened?"

This one glass wouldn't be quite enough for the whole story, so Jamie is going to get the abbreviated version.

"She was a time traveller too. We kept meeting in the wrong order. The first time I met her was the day she died. She died to save my life. But I was only in my tenth body then. And she had lived through the whole of our relationship already."

He took a sip. Because, he figured he had to pace himself, no matter how much he would like to drink more.

"After spending twenty-four years together in linear time, the morning we parted ways, I knew I was sending her to her death. But... I couldn't tell her that. So... I didn't get to say good-bye the way I wanted."

Another sip. And the Doctor briefly wondered what Jamie's reaction would be if he told him about his family back on Gallifrey...

"I don't know why I'm surprised. Story of my life, really. After all, you all leave, eventually. Because you should. Or you find someone else. Some of you... forget me. On rare occasions I forget you. And sometimes... we're forced to be separated." Pointed look, Jamie, while it would be easy to assume he's talking about his wife, he means the times the Time Lords interfered. "People wonder why I keep to 'professional detachment'... these days? I suppose in the end, you all break my hearts. Each and every one of you."

And he really, really wants to slam back that glass now. And he very much forces himself not to. But it obviously takes an effort. Finally he meets Jamie's eyes.

"I did warn you that you might not like it when I got 'real' with you..."

Edited (by request and minor spellings and such.) 2017-04-04 02:32 (UTC)

For a moment Jamie considers saying that it's impossible to forget the Doctor. After all, it's not as though he'd forgotten, after all. The Doctor is pretty memorable, as far as he was concerned. The fact that the Time Lords have already meddled with things doesn't occur to him - and it won't, given the times they'd gotten involved before are times he's already been forced to forget. Right now, he still has no idea about his own fate, the one that's not so far away...or, more accurately hadn't been so far away before he'd been pulled here.

Still, something stops him, even if he's not sure what it is, exactly. Instead, he pushes the cask over towards the Doctor, letting him know it's okay to have more - if that's what the Doctor wants. As for Jamie, he seems more or less to have forgotten the glass in his own hand in favor of giving the Doctor a thoughtful look.

"So is that what happened with you and your wife, then? Someone forced you to be separated? Could you not have stopped it somehow?"

At the gesture of the cask being pushed towards him, he does swallow what's left in the tumbler. And then he poured a little more - not much, Jamie had obviously saved it - so just under a half a glass. Then he pushed it back. More out of respect. He could probably drink the whole bottle and it might a slight effect on him. This much? well, it was better than that fungus crap.

"No. Like I said, I met her on the day she died. If I hadn't sent her on her way, she wouldn't have been able to save me. If she didn't save me in my personal past as had already happened, then both of our timelines would have disintegrated..."

He took a sip - pacing himself again.

"Jamie, think of all the people I've saved in my lifetime. Hell, think of the people I saved just in the time we were together... If my timeline disintegrated? The change would probably cause the universe to implode. My... footprint is too big. The universe wouldn't be able to compensate for that kind of change."

So, no, he couldn't have saved her, even if he wanted to.

"She always loved me. Even when she thought I didn't love her in return, she loved me. And then, I repaid all of that by sending her to her death." His voice and breath both catch. He doesn't want to cry, but he might.

Even without tears, there's a lot of emotion underlying what the Doctor's saying, especially in that brief moment when his breath catches in the way it does, and Jamie's not immune to it. He leans forward, reaching out to clasp the Doctor's shoulder, if the Doctor lets him. If he'd prefer not to be touched, though, then that's alright with him. He's not about to protest if the Doctor decides to pull away. But if not, well - it's a small way for him to try and let the Doctor know that he'll be there for him, if he needs it.

"You had no choice, it sounds like. But...och, look. If you came to care for her that much, she must've been almost as clever as you are. I can't imagine you falling for anyone who wasn't."

Becoming friends with someone? Sure, that'd be different. There's him, after all, and while there are times that Jamie wonders why exactly the Doctor is willing to put up with someone who like him, they're still undeniably friends. But when it comes to love he imagines it has to take a special sort of woman to be able to keep up with the Doctor - and being almost as clever as the Doctor is is probably just the start.

"Plus you said that you kept meeting in the wrong order, right? So what makes you think she'd not figured out there was a chance something like that might happen at some point? And if she ran into you in your past and something happened where knew she had to save you...aye, well, seems to me that she'd likely thought about what she'd be willing to do a long time ago."

The Doctor doesn't pull away. Doesn't really lean into the touch either, but doesn't pull away. He slowly raises his eyes as Jamie continues to speak.

"I know... I do. I just..."

He misses her. Terribly. Another sip. Smaller this time, there's not much left and he's not going to ask for more.

"Immortality isn't living forever. That's not what it feels like. Immortality is everyone else dying. I just never quite get used to it."

He's quiet for a moment and then forces himself to smile. And it might be sadder than when he was close to tears.

"But, then why would I? Everyone has already figured out that I don't like endings."

It's partly why he doesn't stick around for the cleaning up.

"Aye, I've noticed that about you and endings."

It's hard not to notice that, given how keen the Doctor's been about slipping away once they've managed to fix whatever'd gone wrong in the places they'd wound up. At one time he'd thought that the main reason behind it was a sense of adventure, his not wanting to stay in one place for too long a sign of his wanting to see what was out there. Then he'd found out that at least part of it was because he was running away from his people.

Now? It seems that there's even more to it than he's realized. He, too, falls quiet for a few moments, nodding solemnly before reaching for his own glass and bringing it to his lips.

"Although I'd be surprised if anyone could get used to that sort of thing, to tell you the truth. What would you think your wife would tell you if she was here, though? Say she fell through a rift from another time. What would she say?"

There's a bit of a wet sound as he tries to force a chuckle through it. "Oh-ho-ho."

His lips quirk.

"She'd probably slap me and call me a sentimental idiot."

And then cup his cheek tenderly to easy the pain and snog him senseless. Not that he says that part, he has some boundaries.

The Doctor remembered meeting the strange young man. Well, sort of. It was less vague than what he had been able to piece together of Clara, but it was still… foggy.
But, when he saw Cole again, it was like that moment in the Confession Dial: everything snapped into place.

“Hello, Cole, I haven’t seen you about much. Is everything all right?”

Cole can probably tell the Doctor has travelled in time and come back. How much he can sense about the Dark Future, is probably harder for him to figure out than it would be had the Doctor not been a Rifter.

Cole is sitting on a low wall, very carefully rearranging broken bits of stone into patterns, apparently deeply engaged in the task.

But he feels the Doctor approach. Like "-a White Hole, too vast, everything pouring out, the shard sits in front of it and tries to block it but there's so much around the edges. Hello, the Doctor. Silky had a litter of kittens, Mary in the kitchen adopted the runt when the others bullied it away. The word Kirkwall echoes around the camp, bouncing through people, sparking, sharp and shrill and the grief and guilt grow and gorge- They've told me I need to go there, but I don't. I don't need to and I don't want to."

Maybe it was his time in that future, but some of the things Cole said made some sense now. Well, to be fair, the Doctor really hadn't given the lad a fair chance the first go. He sort of regrets that now.

"That happens to runts quite often. That was good of Mary to take it in. I've always been fond of underdogs, though."

He had been one himself, now he has more titles than he cares to admit. He nodded at the mention of Kirkwall.

"I've heard some of the same. Sounds like they want to send me down with the first group. Something about research. Though, I don't know enough about this place, I don't know how much help I'll be. Why don't you want to go?"

Oh, the Doctor heard the words, he just couldn't tell if Cole was talking about himself, or how he saw others reacting to the words.

Cole becomes a bit easier to understand with exposure, his strange and twisting words starting to make patterns that can be followed.

"Mary remembers the kitten she had that died and cradled this one in her hands and promised not again."

The stones are still being sorted into whatever piles it is Cole feels they should be in.

"Kirkwall is Despair and Fear and mages died like Cole died and they suffered like Cole suffered and I don't want to have to live that again and again and again, and becomes Despair again."

"Unfortunate for her, then. Everything dies."

Which is just the fact of the universe. Even planets and stars die. Why do people always think they have the ability to prevent one of two universal constants.

The Doctor tilts his head. He had been in the Gallows in the future, so he can sort of imagine what Cole is saying. But the last part is... fascinating.

"What do you mean 'become Despair again?' Were you despair before?"

Edited (Because complete sentences are good things?) 2017-03-22 16:43 (UTC)

"Yes. But that cat can have a good life before then. That matters."

Cole's face screws up and he hesitates in his stone sorting. "Yes. No. I don't know. They Despaired, so I was their Mercy. I don't think I was Despair, I think I was Mercy, but I shouldn't have been either. I should have been Compassion, but Cole's Despair sat heavy in my head."

The Doctor smiles at that.

"It's a good point. And that's why I usually do what I do."

He means save planets even when he thinks a majority of the inhabitants are idiots.

"Mercy is important."

But the Doctor isn't sure he likes what Cole might actually mean. Because he's faced despair more often than he cares to admit and he has a feeling he knows what Cole means by Mercy in this sense. Still, Cole being Cole, he'll check.

"But, you're right, mercy is not compassion."

And there's Cole referring to himself in third person again.

"Can you answer one question? Are you Cole? Because sometimes you talk like you are Cole, but other times you talk like Cole is someone else."

"Her mother drowned her kitten in the milk it had fallen into."

He rubs his arms. "I can answer lots of questions, but not always with the answers people want. Cole was an apostate. The Templars murdered him. I was Compassion, but he needed someone, needed a person, so I came through to help him. Sit with him. He died and it- I became Cole. I remember being Cole. But I know I'm also not. What is someone, if not their memories?"

"Well, then I'm sure she will take very good care of her new kitty."

He just said 'kitty', what is becoming of him? But then Cole speaks and this isn't the first time the Doctor has heard of aliens taking over the bodies of others. His time in the future had taught him quite a bit about terminology, so at least Cole isn't fighting against that anymore.

"You were Compassion. You tried to protect him. Tried to comfort him in his suffering."

Not questions. Statements. That's what compassion was, after all.

"So, you are a spirit.." or alien "...You became part of Cole to help him. But when he died, you... just didn't leave. Is that it?"

Is he even close. Because if he is close, then he is going to feel very guilty that he was so quick to write the lad off the first go.

"Not protect. Comfort. He was dying, alone, days, weeks? Alone, hunger gnawing his gut, I don't want to be alone, I don't want to die alone, why was I born with magic, why am I monster, is that why I'm alone? So I came to him. Held his hand. He wanted to so badly to have never have had magic, like a wound in him, and-"

And Compassion had done the best it could.

"I don't remember it. Solas helped me work some of it out. But, I was with Cole and then I remembered being Cole, I thought I was Cole. He needed someone and I was the only one who could be there. I took the only shape that I knew. The one that would help. And now... I can't go back. To the Fade. I don't belong there anymore. I don't know if I belong here, but I know I don't belong there."

The Doctor nodded slowly. So, he had been close. He had written the lad off too soon. It explained his strange phrases.

"Must be difficult. Having all of your own knowledge and all of Cole's knowledge too."

He'll work back to Kirkwall. But it made a great deal more sense now that it had before.

"Everything must get a bit muddled between what's you and what's him."

At the mention of not knowing where he belonged, the Doctor reached out and rested a hand on Cole's shoulder. The Doctor was anti-touch himself. But sometimes, touch was just needed.

"There are a lot of us who don't belong here. But if there's one thing this place needs, it's Compassion."

Well, Forgiveness too, but he'll take what he can get.

Cole is still not really looking, watching his stones instead. The piles are starting to make sense; he's assembling old, broken stone blocks back into the individual blocks, sorting one from another.

"I remember being him. I know I'm not. But I am."

He actually startles at the touch, looking up with a wide, shocked expression, but not actually pulling away. "It's not just hime. I remember what hurts for everyone. And the things. There's... a lot of hurt. I can't fix it all. But I try."

"Ah well, there's a reason for that. Doctors fix things. Compassion means to join with the suffering of others. That's the Gift of Pain. Without the capacity to feel pain, we can't feel the hurt we inflict on others."

Which although Compassion will always be the Doctor's downfall and, as Davros had said, will one day be the death of him, he will never be compassion itself. He has to fix everything. But then the rest of Cole's statement catches up with the Doctor. And he becomes very worried for Cole.

"I like you, Cole. And because I like you, I don't want to see you get hurt. So, a word of advice: I am billions of years old. I've died hundreds of billions of times. Best not meddle into my hurt."

It's bad enough that the Doctor has to carry it, he's honestly afraid that level of hurt might actually destroy Cole.

Cole looks up at the Doctor, and for a moment, it's not the young man, the child like innocence, but something much older looking out. "I can't help you. I know. Even without the Shard blocking it, I couldn't help you. I'm sorry I can't. Even what I feel and see now, it's another world, another place, another- it's more. Too much."

The Doctor nods. Not so different than humans, then. Oh why does he even bother. He reaches out again and rests against Cole's shoulder. "I know you can't help me. I never expected that you could."

He doesn't really think anyone can. All he can do is keep running from it as hard as he can. It's why he saves planets. It's a way to try to heal his own hurt.

"I don't understand your gift all that well, but I will do what I can to protect you from my pain. But you have to promise me to not go looking into it either. Can you do that?"

Maybe if they hadn't been touching, the thought wouldn't be so apparent.

"It won't heal it. It will help you ease it, but it won't actually heal it. If I could help, I would. If me promising not to dig into your pain will help you, I'll do it." He's very solemn when he says it.

Probably not. The Doctor was an idiot sometimes.

"I don't know that anyone can. Ease it always, but not heal it. And yes, that will help me."

He tilted his to consider Cole carefully.

"If we're around here long enough, I might tell you some of it. After all, you've told me a bit about Cole."

It would only be fair. But time to return to matters at hand.

"Now I understand your fear of Kirkwall. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"It will heal, if you let it. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but time gives you the chance to do things to heal it." He starts carefully gathering up each pile of stones, making clearly delineated groups.

"I don't know. I don't want to go, because I think I'll be Despair. I don't want to risk everyone with that."

A very small smile appeared. Because the Doctor had anticipated the conversation would go this way and now he can help Cole to understand his own words.

"You might not, if you have help. Maybe this is Time's way of giving you the chance to do things to heal your hurt."

He shrugged, a bit casually. He'd push the issue just a little, if he had to, but he didn't want to, if he didn't have to.

"Maybe," Cole agreed. "Or I might become Despair and kill a lot of people, cause a wave of hurt that will stain the streets deeper."

"Unfortunately, that is something that every living creature has the capacity to do."

Sorry, Cole, but in that sense, you're not special or unique.

"Which is why people need each other."

Cole looks up, eyes wide. "Really?!"

This has clearly never passed his mind before.

The Doctor was caught a bit off-guard by Cole's reaction. Had no one ever explained anyone to this young man before?

"Yes, really. Every creature has the capacity for the most profound love and the deepest hatred."

Honestly, it's what keeps the Doctor going. Cole might be Compassion. This incarnation of the Doctor is all about Forgiveness. Forgiveness can't truly be recognised without understanding the simple truths of existence.

"I'm called the 'Doctor'. But there are some planets that have labelled me 'The Great Destruction of the Universe.' It's all about perspective. My enemies view me as a vengeful god."

And with good reason.

Cole... knows things, but he doesn't always understand them. He knows people can do awful things, but he's never thought that they can become consumed by Despair without a demon driving them.

"Compassion... can't hate. Can't be brave. Can just be Compassion. Spirits are simple. I'm not than that. But I don't think I'm like a person, either." He rocks on his sit bones absently. "Vengeance kills a lot of people. I hope it finds its way back to Justice."

"I think you're wrong about bravery. Compassion is one of the bravest things anyone can do."

Second only to forgiveness. The Doctor was still a little shocked that Cole was still talking to him. By now, most people had decided to write him off and, well despise him.

"It's not bravery. it's just what I am."

He chose to embrace that part of himself again. To care more about someone else than himself. But he knew it was just what he was.

He paused and then carefully picked up a small beetle, resting it on the back of his hand. "You shouldn't be here. It's too cold up here for you."

"You make the choice between Compassion and Despair, though. You choose the more difficult path, even when you know despair would be easier. That's what makes you brave."

The Doctor may as well have been talking about himself. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. And maybe that's why he understood Cole as well as he now realises he does. The first time they met, he was too caught up in being new in this place to realise what was before him. Cole was like himself in so many ways.

He offered a small smile when Cole found the beetle. "Do you speak beetle? I speak horse. And Griffon, apparently."

And dinosaur. And baby.

"I- just know." He doesn't 'speak' their language, but he understands. And he can communicate. "I care, so I understand?"

He strokes a finger lightly over the beetle's carapace; the insect seemed completely unbothered by Cole's attention, oddly calm and trusting of the boy's hand. "I- don't remember choosing. It was just what I did. I was scared but, Rhys needed me."

The Doctor smiled again. "That's usually how understanding works."

If Cole was anything, he was hypnotic. He was as enigmatic as the Doctor and mysteries have always been the one thing he could never resist.

"I'm not talking about the past. I'm talking about right now. You don't want to Despair. You want to remain Compassion. That is a choice. I told you that every single creature has the potential for despair or compassion. You have been both, so you understand the importance more than most. Yet, you choose compassion. And that is why you're brave."

He's repeating himself, which is rare, but for some reason, he feels it is important for Cole to understand this.

"Usually, but no always. Rhys didn't understand, but he cared anyway. That was enough."

After a long moment, Cole lifts the beetle up to his neck, letting it climb up to his jaw, where it would get a little warmth. "I don't want to hurt people. I kill sometimes, when I have to. But I just want to help. I never thought of that as making me brave. I thought it was just what I am but-"

But he does choose. He's just never thought about it.

"I need to go put the beetle with the outgoing caravan to Orlais."

"Oh! Yes, yes, yes. By all means. Make sure the smallest creature is cared for."

Because, again, that's not making a choice at all(!) But the Doctor knew he had given Cole a lot to think about. And Cole had done the same for him.

He slid his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sure I'll see you around again, Cole."

"Probably," Cole agreed, but it was absent. He was focused on the insect now; it needed his help.

He stood up and took a step and was gone in a curl of smoke.

Which the Doctor just stared at for some long moments. Realising how foggy his memory was, he pulled out his diary and made a few notes. Something he hadn't done the first time. Cole was a great deal like the Silence, but the Doctor didn't want to forget him again.

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Big Guy in the sky, He lied too

Locked to Jamie

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Locked to Cole

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cw: mention of previous animal abuse, discussion of people abuse

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