In the TARDIS, the Doctor felt a mental tug. He took out his Psychic Paper to see a message written on the usually blank paper.
"Doctor. Need Help. Come Quickly. Earth, 2010."
He was midflight to a place called Barcelona, so he had to change direction completely. If it could have been seen in the vortex, the TARDIS did an about face and turned around. It was headed to a planet that was very unlike Barcelona.
When the TARDIS had stopped bouncing around, and it was calm enough for him to sit down, the Doctor finds a seat on the dual pilot's chair that he and his companions had so often occupied. He was exhausted. He had been alone for so long now that he had forgotten how much a comforting hand could be to someone. He had also forgotten how to stop himself. So far, all that he had learned was that Time Lords could get just as tired as humans if they overworked themselves. The past few days, even though time really had no meaning in the TARDIS, he had spent saving planets and people, so that he would not have time to stop and remember Donna, or Rose. Martha too, but he knew he would be able to see her again, unlike the other two. Donna, he knew, he would never be able to see again. Even if she just saw his police box on the side of the street, he knew she would die. And Rose, he would never be able to see her again either. Trapped in a parallel world, along with the human him. He had to admit, he was sort of jealous of himself. He would never be able to see her again, while Mr. Biological Metacrisis was able to see her every minute of every day.
The Doctor stands up. The central column of his machine had stopped moving, and now it was time to see who, or what, had called him. He stretched, as if to take the stress of the wave of thoughts off of himself, then he walked towards the door, grabbing his long coat on the way. He pushes on the double Police box doors, which creak open as he steps out.
A barrage of applause came from around him. It was a reception committee. How had they known he would be here? Of course, this wasn't the first time he had materialized to come face to face with a group of people that applauded his entrance. Unfortunately, this reception committee looked disconcertingly like the first. The berets, the guns. The only difference was that, instead of a woman walking towards him, leading the applause, it was a man. A very familiar man, wearing a beaming smile.
"Doctor! So long since our last meeting! Very good to see you sir! You've changed your face I see."
"Brigadier! How are you?"