"Up to you," she replied, shrugging her shoulders, crossing her arms in front of her. If she did that, she wouldn't cave in to the urge to hug him. To hold him and try and take whatever pain he was in away. She wouldn't. He deserved to hurt, at least for a while. "I haven't gotten a car here, yet. In the city, there's not much reason to. Everything's pretty nearby. Some of my friends do, though, or there's the bus. Or we could take a cab. You don't look much like you feel up to the trip."
Because if she stopped to look at him, really look at him, he looked like he'd been through a war. Again. It made sense, though. Everything he'd just been through, whatever had happened, would lead to his regeneration. And he'd become floppy haired bloke with the bow ties and fezzes who watched terrible television shows where they were...in compromising positions.
Really, it was a good thing she hadn't searched this Doctor at all. Stupid google.