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He doesn't remember falling out of the TARDIS or ending up at hospital. In fact he remembers almost nothing after the Time Lords pronounced his sentence, condemning him to exile and regeneration.
He wraps himself in the bedclothes so he won't have to face what has happened.
He'd thought wanted to believe that he could just run forever, all the while knowing in a tiny corner of his mind that they'd catch up with him sooner or later. He was making too much noise and drawing too much attention for them not to notice.
But he didn't stop. Maybe he just wanted it to be over.
Susan was safely tucked away on Earth. He doubted they'd find her unless they searched hard, and he knew they were indolent at hearts. Zoe and Jamie he mourned for. They hadn't deserved their fates. He had brought this upon them as well. Someday, perhaps, if he were ever freed from his exile, he would check up on them.
He has the key, but not the knowledge. He longs for the freedom he's lost.
They had deliberately disabled the TARDIS and he couldn't remember how to fix her or how to fly her. That was the worst of it. He'd never been good at standing still.
He wonders what it will be like, living here on Earth with such short-lived creatures. He has people he counts as friends here, but soon enough they'll be gone, and he'll be alone again.
Best to hold on to those relationships for now and not worry about future pain or loneliness. Humans lived for decades, he might find a way free in the meantime. And he could always make new friends.
He's good at that.