Tegan had regretted it almost immediately—leaving at all, leaving so abruptly, not letting herself give anything more than an impersonal handshake because she was afraid her resolve would otherwise crumble.

She still imagined them sometimes—Nyssa, saving lives and being extraordinary and Turlough, hopefully he’d let the Doctor take him home at some point—she never let herself think that either of them would end up like Adric, young and brave and dead so very far from home.

She eventually accepted that she had made the right choice, the only choice, but it still took Tegan years to stop looking twice whenever she passed a certain type of blonde haired man on the streets; she was never quite sure if she hoped for or dreaded the possibility that it was him.