"Phae's a friend. She's... sorta my bodyguard." At the next set of questions, Harry frowned again, and thought quickly. "Murphy, Thomas, Molly, Jo, Dean, Sam, Kincaid... eh, forget Kincaid. He's not really a friend, per se. But, no. Murph, Thomas, and Molly? They wouldn't just leave without telling me. They'd try like hell to get in touch with me. And if this was some kind of Rip-Van-Winkle shit--" with faeries, who knew? "--they sure as hell would have stuck around for me."
Harry could wonder about the Fae for a million years and never have a solid answer. But his friends? His brother? He knew them. He knew what they would do. Hell's bells, he'd seen it himself during his Casper impression back in Chicago.
Then the Doctor pulled out his own phone. Harry took a step back and tried to think non-hostile thoughts. The phone wouldn't work long around him as it was.