The Doctor stares at this apparition blankly, without any sign that he comprehends her words. Return her to...? A mistake? Now listen, ghostie, the Doctor knows a thing or two about mistakes, he just about wrote the book and then refused to learn from it. No matter how long she's been rattling around this weird ice-lava dream-cave, that counts for something. He doesn't feel quite up to making that argument, however. She had sounded...very absolute. And even more beholden to the laws of causality than his version of Callie. Not unlike the TARDIS, honestly, if she'd always been as prone to making vocal arguments as she is now. He'd rather that argument, actually. At least that wouldn't be so unnerving.
He reigns in his incomprehension, his still-spiking levels of offense, and shrugs experimentally. "Can't. No idea how. Rift only goes one way. I said I didn't save her," he says, without apology, without anything, all his grief and disappointment behind shutters. He's not going to argue with this monolith about the looking after or anything else. It's well past last call, this bar's closed. And never mind that he's already promised Callie to send her back to whatever purpose she thinks appropriate, when she's ready. Or did he promise, who remembers. How important is a universe like this, really. "Her purpose. Your purpose. As the Muse of Space? What does that mean?" Something about questioning this creature about Callie's fate feels presumptive, feels a bit like cheating, but what else is new. He can always decide what to do with any knowledge he gains, later. Aren't all responsibilities uncomfortable? What else is new. Nothing, in any universe, not really.
no subject
He reigns in his incomprehension, his still-spiking levels of offense, and shrugs experimentally. "Can't. No idea how. Rift only goes one way. I said I didn't save her," he says, without apology, without anything, all his grief and disappointment behind shutters. He's not going to argue with this monolith about the looking after or anything else. It's well past last call, this bar's closed. And never mind that he's already promised Callie to send her back to whatever purpose she thinks appropriate, when she's ready. Or did he promise, who remembers.
How important is a universe like this, really."Her purpose. Your purpose. As the Muse of Space? What does that mean?" Something about questioning this creature about Callie's fate feels presumptive, feels a bit like cheating, but what else is new. He can always decide what to do with any knowledge he gains, later. Aren't all responsibilities uncomfortable? What else is new. Nothing, in any universe, not really.