“War,” the Doctor groaned, “why is it always war?” His vision swam as he stumbled into his TARDIS. Touching the wound on his temple gingerly, he was relieved to find no trace of blood left on his fingers. “When will they learn?”
Struggling to concentrate, he operated a series of buttons and levers. The ship was only in flight a few minutes before it landed with a thud. The control room felt suddenly stifling, so the Doctor staggered outside into the cool evening air. He had a moment to register a lovely house and green garden before he fell unconscious.