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“Oh Jamie, you worry too much.”
That was the last thing that The Doctor had said to him. It was supposed to be a simple mission, to investigate the supposedly abandoned space station and retrieve the parts necessary to fix the TARDIS. What they didn't account for, apparently, was the fact that others may have had a similar idea for their vessels.
The Doctor had tried to negotiate his way out of a particularly sticky situation with a group of aliens that Jamie didn't recognise, but that went incredibly south. He could still hear the whizz of the bullet as it hit flesh, a painful thud following suit.
Nothing felt real after that, he hardly felt the blood underneath his hands as he pressed against The Doctor's abdomen, hardly even registering the fact that he was holding an unconscious, possibly dead man in his arms as he trekked through the winding corridors of their beloved ship. The bullet had gone straight through, a painful sob escaping Jamie's lips as he examined the wound. It wasn't as if he hadn't stared death in the face before, but this was different.
He'd stunted the bleeding and patched him up with white gauze, hoping to God that whatever magical healing powers the Timelord seemed to have worked on bullet wounds too. Jamie just wished that he was smart, maybe if he was he could do more for him.
In the blink of an eye, he was setting The Doctor down onto his bed. Time was passing so fast, yet so slowly at the same time. Perhaps that was The Doctor's fault somehow, maybe the universe would collapse if he were to die.
Jamie knew his would.
Now, he was standing at the console, shaking hands hovering over buttons and switches that made no sense to him. How on Earth was he meant to fly this thing??
"Alright, I know ye only like The Doctor, but he's not here. I'd appreciate it if ye behaved for me-" Jamie muttered under his breath, the console whirring in response. He sighed, furrowing his brow in concentration as he tried to remember what the buttons did. It soon became frightfully clear to him that he wasn't going anywhere, tears welling up in the cornor of his eyes as his filt balled in frustration.
How was The Doctor so smart? How did he remember what button did what? Jamie would never understand that man.
Stepping away from the console for a second, spotted The Doctor's coat in the cornor of the room on a chair. He walked over to it, snatched it up and gently slid his arms onto the sleeves. Shrugging it on, the weight of the coat felt like a warm embrace. It was a rather scruffy old thing, but it was The Doctor's.
"Oh Doctor, yer a stupid man" He sniffed, pulling the lapels of the coat around him as he sank to the floor. A sob threatened to creep up his throat, he felt so useless. The Doctor was always able to help him when he was in trouble, but the moment he needed Jamie, he was useless.