The Doctor has rather perfected the art of both denial and compartmentalization through the years. For the sake of his sanity, he must. Though, by his own admission, his sanity is a tenuous thing in the best of times and their shared experience in the Labyrinth was anything but the best of times. In the days since the Tower, the Doctor has felt in a dream at times, questioning what was real and what wasn't. What really happened? What did he feel? How does he begin to process the terrible things that were thrust upon them all? He gives each thought barely a hint of consideration for the moment, burying it all deep and neatly tucking it away.
The only way through it is to focus on the people around him. It's what he does best. This, at least, he knows; how to help, how to guide, how to care for his friends. Maybe he isn't always the best at it, but he'll try, he must. For them, he would do anything.
So he divides his time, among other things, checking in on Red and Vanessa, timing his visits carefully to coincide with each of the citadel halves being over- or under-ground, depending.
He's not a man easily deterred, so he returns to see Red the next day, not necessarily expecting her to answer when he knocks, and not caring if she doesn't. He'll keep coming back to check on her until she's ready.
no subject
The only way through it is to focus on the people around him. It's what he does best. This, at least, he knows; how to help, how to guide, how to care for his friends. Maybe he isn't always the best at it, but he'll try, he must. For them, he would do anything.
So he divides his time, among other things, checking in on Red and Vanessa, timing his visits carefully to coincide with each of the citadel halves being over- or under-ground, depending.
He's not a man easily deterred, so he returns to see Red the next day, not necessarily expecting her to answer when he knocks, and not caring if she doesn't. He'll keep coming back to check on her until she's ready.