BACK TO CALISTO B'S SPACE BAR. The crowded place sees a man dressed in a long trench coat and a stetson, albeit weird, even for a planet so far away from Earth. The Doctor walks grimly to what seems like Vandaleur – the Teselecta watches him, sitting, as he approaches with a sour look on his face.
He never understood why his future self would invite his friends to his death. Well, he wasn't as daft as to not get the idea, but he never truly understood. Now that he was facing it, it made sense. After being lonely for centuries after centuries, he didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to die alone. And he didn't have to.
He hands the Teselecta the letters he numbered. Ranked in order of how much he trusted them. They'd figure that part out eventually, he knows it. Until the very last moment, he thought about putting himself first. Is there anyone he'd trust more than himself?
Walking to his death, the most human feeling seized him, and he knew that forward – if there had been a forward at all – Aurora would come first. Because that's how she made him feel; human. Stupidly, inevitably so.
So much that, no matter how selfless he could be, he couldn't wait to see her again. Of course, he had an idea of how that would go – he had seen the devastation on her face, and hated himself eons over what he would do to her.
Somehow, a single dimpled-smile washed all the hatred away. Even if by doing so, he knew he'd plant the seed of the Time Lady Victorious in her mind. Would it be worth it? Risk the universe to see her smile one last time?
If he remembers it correctly – and he does – then yes. About a thousand times, yes.
"Surely you could deliver the messages yourself?" the Teselecta tells him, confused.
He had thought of it, of course. "It would involve crossing my own time stream. Best not."
The Teselecta stares at him, still. "According to our files, this is the end for you. Your final journey." The Doctor nods. It's no news to him. "We'll deliver your messages. You can depend on us."
His big sad eyes look into the distance. He can picture it all too well. Them receiving the letter, excited smiles at the thought of going on an adventure.
He was deceiving them, he knew this.
"Thank you."
He moves to leave, but the Teselecta calls after him. "Doctor." The robot stands up. "Whatever you think of the Teselecta, we are champions of law and order just as you have always been. Is there nothing else we can do?"
If he breathes a word about Aurora, he'll sign her fate and all of this will have been for nothing. His death will have been for nothing, and she wouldn't allow that.
He clenches his jaw, and walks away.
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IN THE SENATE ROOM, CHURCHILL IS MORE THAN CONFUSED. He isn't sure how the story went from extraterrestrial threat to heart-breaking love story – and the fact that it was so pointless too. He could have just spared them.
