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The Doctor isn’t weak. He’s far from it. His ninth iteration was all fire and rage, a thunderstorm blowing in on the horizon and the epitome of hidden anger that was only partially hidden. His tenth was more open, always showing exactly what emotions he felt until the end, when it got a bit muddled in all the pain and anger of loss. Now him, a creature born of pain. He wasn’t weak. He just had to keep telling himself that. He wasn’t weak.
But by all the gods, it hurt.
It hurt so badly today he didn’t think he could move. The aching, tight, run over by a whole ship type of pain, radiating through his joints. His hips and knees were always bad, his wrists and ankles even worse. For whatever reason it wasn’t limited to joints though, spreading up his ulna and radius, and through his tibia just the same.
When it got this bad, even holding the sonic and pressing the button hurt. It radiated up through his arm, and he couldn’t for the life of him compare it to anything except what it was. It wasn’t like electrocution or bruising or bullets, it was like a bit of all of those combined, and not similar at all.
Of course cures had been made. History was long and they’d figured it out eventually. The unfortunate part was that the medical treatment for fibromyalgia didn’t work on timelords. That is, it did, for timelords who actually had the ailment. This was different. It wouldn’t work for him, not ever.
His ninth iteration dealt with chest pains so bad he thought he may die, all from the heartache of loss in war. His tenth dealt with headaches, migraines even. Pain so fierce it could put him on his knees for a few days at a time. All of that from the trauma of the knowledge of all he lost.
When he was about to regenerate, he figured he was going to deal with pain in his next body. Ten lost a lot to begin with, but by the end he’d lost nearly everything he ever loved. So yes, he knew it would be quite bad. He never expected this level of bad though. Emotional pain as injury. How torturous.
Now here he was. Unable to move freely, eyes squeezed shut in the darkness of his room. The TARDIS, his special old girl, was keeping it quiet and dark, and putting out a scent into his room. Something akin to lavender on earth, and fresh marshmallows. Something soothing to bring him to peace. And it was peaceful, until the knock on the door.
“Doctor! We’re ready for that dwarf planet whenever you are! C’mon, you never sleep in!” Amy called. The Doctor winced.
He could feel a headache begging to form from the volume. There was no way he was going to be able to take them trekking through the pink crystal mountains that littered the surface of the small planet if couldn’t even handle Amy’s voice. But there was still hope of getting out of this if he played his cards right. He’d never told them- he didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want them to see him as- weak. Untrustworthy. Pathetic. Unable to protect them.
“Come in.” He called, uncovering his face fully from the sheets. Amy’s bright red hair came into view, the hallway lights painting her like an angel.
“Doctor- what are you doing lying down? You said last night we were going in the morning.”
“I did. I-I did. And we are. This is a time machine, morning is any time! Unfortunately I’ve made a miscalculation. Timelords can go quite a long time without rest, and, and, I- forgot. To sleep. Recently. So I’ll need to rest for the foreseeable hours. Then we can get going! I’d suggest a nice trip to the kitchen! Ey? My old girl will have everything there for breakfast and tea.” He smiled cheerfully. Even his face hurt somehow.
“Okay. I don’t believe you.”
“Oi, why not?”
“Because you’re moping. Even when you are tired, you don’t actually choose sleep. Although… you do look a bit poorly.”
“Oi, not poorly, tired! You’ve never seen me proper tired because I normally keep on track!”
“No, you don’t! You’ve almost passed out from exhaustion a couple of times and we still had to drag you to bed.”
“That was-”
“Shhh! No more arguing. Get your rest in and get to feeling better, then we can go.” Amy decreed, stepping over to squeeze his hand with a smile.
He tried his hardest not to make a sound, or a face, and thought he’d succeeded when Amy let go and went towards the door. She shot him one more look before slipping out, not saying another word. It was unlike her to be even the slightest bit quiet, but he didn’t have the energy to question it as he let his body go lax. It seemed like he had succeeded entirely, until around fifteen minutes later. He hadn’t managed to get back to sleep, but his eyes still protested opening. He couldn’t ignore the knocking on the door forever though. Or could he?
The Doctor let his body go limp again, ignoring the knock and trying to look as if he was deep in slumber. The figure cracked open the door, then took a couple of steps in. Not Amy, judging by the shoes not having small heels. For a moment he felt fear, that instinctual livewire of adrenaline to never let anyone come up on him, lest he be killed. What if it was an intruder intending to harm him? But then the door shut and the footsteps came close, and a familiar hand brushed his forehead.
“Are you feeling alright?” Rory whispered. He could pretend. He could stay quiet.
“I know you’re awake.” Rory said more sternly. The Doctor grumbled.
“How?”
“I’m a nurse. Your breathing isn’t slow enough to be asleep, and even if this was your baseline, it got faster when I walked towards you.”
“Clever Pond.” He mumbled, cracking open his eyes. Rory didn’t look happy, not by a long shot, but he didn’t look angry. He just looked worried.
“Are you poorly?”
“No, no.” The Doctor said quietly, voice croaking as he spoke. Rory huffed a breath, and he shut his eyes again.
“A bit.”
“What’s wrong? What are you feeling?” Rory asked. He hesitated. What could he say? If he told the truth, he’d be seen differently. Even if Rory claimed not to, he would.
“Doctor. Come on. We’re worried. We love you and we’re worried.” Rory encouraged, his gentle hand slipping over his. Yes, he could lie. Instead, for the first time in a very long time, he felt tears welling in his eyes. Why was that happening?
“Doctor?”
“It hurts.”
“What hurts? It’s alright.” Rory said, squeezing his hand that was currently holding the sheets, and he couldn’t help it- he whined, a small, pained note high in his throat. Rory let go like he’d been burned by the touch. He thought his hands were gone, until they were back on his forehead.
“Alright. Alright, talk to me. I’m here. What hurts?” Rory asked. The Doctor melted, letting his eyes fall shut again and leaning into it as Rory drug his blissfully cold hand over his skin, brushing the hair from his face.
“You like that?”
“M-hm.” He hummed. Rory chuckled, and he could hear the small smile Rory had without having to see it.
“I’ll keep doing it if you tell me what’s wrong.” Rory bargained. He wasn’t going to say much. He shouldn’t.
The words started to come like a dam had been opened. He didn’t mean to dump everything, but he really hadn’t slept well in a few days from the pain building, and the years of hiding everything plus the radiating ache in his body made him just blurt it all out. The chest pain, the migraines, now this, pain as memory, memory and grief as pain, all of it building into one word that was at least the most similar to his feeling. Fibromyalgia.
Through all of it, Rory stayed quiet. It felt like a blessing and a curse. He wanted to know what the man was thinking, but him staying quiet almost made it feel easier, like he was admitting things to no one, like nothing bad could come of it. The whole time, Rory’s hand kept brushing through his bangs, over and over.
“Okay. Alright, it’s alright Doctor, we can help.” Rory said gently, moving to wipe gently at his cheeks.
When did the tears forming actually begin to fall? He hadn’t registered it. Panic came over him in a wave, rushing through to his hearts, his whole body filling with adrenaline. Don’t let them see you weak. You’re the protector. You can’t be weak. They won’t trust you.
“Ah, sorry!” He sniffed in hard, trying to correct it, and sat up quickly, nearly crying out from the pain. He tossed the covers off and went to stand, all as Rory protested. As soon as he put weight on his shins he was done for, crumbling into Rory’s arms as the man tried his best to keep the Doctor’s knees from hitting the floor. He half succeeded, lowered them both at a slower speed than what was going to happen.
“Don’t run. Please, don’t try to run. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’m already hurting.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to make it worse.” Rory soothed, running his hand through the Doctor’s hair again. The other hand rubbed his back, gentle and soothing, and he couldn’t bring himself to look up at him.
“Have you eaten in the last day? And be honest.”
“No.” The Doctor admitted.
“Good, that’s good you’ve told me.” Rory praised. The Doctor’s eyebrows furrowed.
“You’re not upset?”
“It’s not a smart move, but you’re not in any shape to be mad at. Now will you stay in bed if I get you back up in there? No more trying to push through.” Rory asked.
“Not even once more?”
“Absolutely not. I’ll tell Amy.” Rory joked. The Doctor gave in, nodding and letting Rory put his hands on him.
It hurt much worst to have to stand than it had to push himself from the bed, even with Rory’s help. His shins felt like they were going to snap. He groaned as he finally got to standing, letting his weight then fall back to sitting on his bed. Rory came with him, his arms supporting the Doctor from under his own, wrapped tight round his middle. He once again felt the tears spring to his eyes, a shuddered breath pulling from him without his consent, before Rory was hugging him, situating himself next to him on the mattress and letting him lean his head into Rory’s shoulder.
It shouldn’t feel so nice. He wasn’t supposed to- he hadn’t done this since Rose, or Donna. He hadn’t let himself be the vulnerable one for so very long. The cries came from the very center of his hearts it seemed, shaking through his whole body as Rory held him tighter. He could hear small shushes and gentle encouragements, but most of it flew past his ears without being understood fully.
He still got the feelings. He still felt the soothing, like a child after a nightmare, the care soaking right into his body. It wasn’t until Rory started gently rocking them, just the slightest bit, that he relaxed enough to hear him and fully take in the meaning.
“You’re alright, it’s all going to be okay. We’ll take care of you. Well get you feeling better, then get you something to eat. My great gran had fibro, least I think. I don’t think she had a name for it, just called it “the aches”. I recognized it as soon as I learned about it. She was already far gone by then. I felt terrible she had to carry that alone. No doctors knew what to tell her. But you don’t have to do that. You could’ve told us. Even if we don’t know what to do for you immediately, we can learn. I’m a nurse, I’m good at that. We love you. I love you. You don’t need to lie.”
“I didn’t want you to see this.”
“I don’t think anyone enjoys this bit. But we have to, to help you feel better.” Rory said gently. He took his hand again, gentle, barely holding, barely touching, just enough to ground him and not enough to make it hurt worse.
“There is no making me feel better.” The Doctor croaked. He felt Rory still for a moment, before warm lips were pressing against his temple. His head snapped up.
“Feel better?” Rory asked, barely concealed nerves slipping into his tone.
“Rory?”
“I-It’s something Amy does. Kiss it better. I dunno, it sometimes makes me feel better. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. I love Amy’s habits. And yours.” He murmured.
Now that was new. Or was it? Hearts racing a bit. He hadn’t felt that towards a male companion since- well, did Jack count? He was human enough, until he wasn’t. And before that, Fitz. What a lovely man. And now here was Rory, inches from him, and his body was screaming in pain, but the tender joy between their breaths was distracting him. But he shouldn’t. He never let himself get too attached to them. Human men swayed towards human women, and he had Amy. Not that they both weren’t- that is, appealing? And not that he hadn’t thought about… well, both of them. A bit. Nothing more! He really shouldn’t.
“You can do it again, if you’d like.” The Doctor swallowed.
“Nah, I wouldn’t need to twice. Unless you want me to.”
“No, no. Unless… I dunno, I hurt in more places than there. Do you want to?”
“Not unless you do.” Rory shook his head.
There was a moment the Doctor didn’t expect it. He didn’t think Rory would move. It would be just another awkward moment between them. He’d looked away, so the Doctors gaze turned away too. The pain was still crippling, making him wince as he turned his hand over. This wasn’t the time for… dangerous new affections.
It didn’t seem as though Rory expected what he did next either. It was as if neither of them were thinking clearly. Rory was clearly nervous, hands clammy against his, and the Doctor’s headache was upgrading to pounding from sitting up, and then none of that mattered as Rory used his free hand to pull him in, both of them ignoring the warning signs.
Rory’s lips were soft, just as much as Amy’s had been years ago. He was nervous, so incredibly nervous, and Rory seemed to be too- at first. His brain wasn’t thinking. Everything hurt too much to think. All he knew was this moment, this blink in history, as Rory’s hand covered his cheek and the human leaned further into him, pressing their lips together over and over.
He let himself get dizzy with it, letting go of his restraints for just a moment. He was barely breathing as he responded in every way he could, which today meant barely moving and sitting there taking it gleefully. Rory pulling back was the thing that eventually woke him from the spell. That’s when his brain finally kicked in. That’s when the panic set in. What had he done? Why had they done that? What about-
“Amy knows.” Rory blurted out. The Doctors gaze zeroed in on his.
“What?”
“She’s- I’m- I’m. Hold on. I’m- I’m… god! Why’s it so hard to say?”
“You don’t have to.” The Doctor started, but Rory interrupted him with a small shake of his head.
“I need to. I’m… whew, okay. Doctor, I’m bisexual.” Rory admitted. The Doctor just blinked in surprise, trying to find the right words to say. Congratulations? No, that was for engagements. Good for you! Possibly not right.
“And Amy knows. And Amy knows I…”
“What?”
“Like you, idiot.” Rory muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.
“And she’s… not jealous?”
“No. No, for once not. She’s actually pretty okay with sharing given it’s you. Long as she gets to share too.” Rory admitted.
“Amy likes me too?”
“oh my god. I shouldn’t have said that, it just came out. Oooh my god, she’s going to kill me.”
And what could he do now? He was in far too much pain to do anything grand. No speeches, no big movements. Everything in him had screeched to a halt in the reasoning department, but he knew he should do something. First he had to figure out what he was feeling. Happy? Yes. Surprised? Also yes. The important one. Loved? Loving? Also… yes. Of course. How could he not? The Ponds, his forever, of course he would feel joy.
“Doctor?”
“Sorry-”
“It’s okay. I should go, get you something for the pain.”
“You’re not even going to let me accept?”
“Accept what?” Rory asked, sliding a bit away from him on the bed. The Doctor reached out, taking his hand and wincing as he did.
“Well it’s hardly fair I don’t get to respond.”
“Okay. S’pose that’s fair. How do you respond?” Rory asked, not looking at him. The Doctor smiled for the first time that day, pulling Rory’s hand that was still in his up to his lips and kissing the back.
“Everything hurts. And I’m sorry for not telling you two. And I’m sorry I can’t make any grand gestures here and now. But I need you to know I accept.”
“Accept what?”
“Whatever you and Amy want to give.” He smiled. Rory’s lips slowly curled up into a grin, nodding as he processed the words.
“I am surprised. I thought you… didn’t like me as much as you could.”
“Why would you think that?” Rory asked.
“You criticize me quite harshly. As you should, I deserve it.”
“That just means I don’t idolize you. And there’s a big difference. The healthiest, longest, most loving human relationships stay going because they do confront each other and have hard conversations. That isn’t a bad thing. Idolization is.”
“You must really love me.” The Doctor remarked, gaining a snorted laugh from Rory.
“Well it’s been out in the open for about two minutes, so let’s take it a bit slower than that.” Rory smiled. The Doctor chuckled and nodded, grimacing as his neck protested the movement.
“You need something for the pain. Do you have anything on board in the med bay? Morphine, or tablets of some kind? For aliens?”
“No addictives, never. It’s my rule.”
“How about paracetamol and a massage then?” Rory coaxed, moving his hand to rub up and down the Doctor’s back. His eyes slowly slipped shut.
“That could be nice.”
“And a few heating pads or warm compresses?” He offered. The Doctor just groaned, covering his face in embarrassment at how quickly he’d melted. Rory laughed, pulling him gently, and letting him sag against his chest. He could hear Rory’s heartbeat, and despite the terrible pain from his hips at leaning over, he wanted to stay there for the next few hundred years. He took a long breath, letting himself relax. Rory couldn’t stop staring. Their Doctor, all strength and fury and cleverness, a blushing puddle.
“Lay down, and take off that jacket. I’ll be back.” Rory whispered. The Doctor nodded. His eyes cracked open as he sat up, letting Rory go and watching him slip out into the hallway.
He didn’t have shoes on to start with, but the rest was his usual outfit. He unclipped the suspenders, feeling the relief instantly that he didn’t realize he was craving. Next came his button up, then he stayed as still as possible as he slipped off his trousers, getting down to just his pants and crawling under the covers. The joy had subsided, replaced by quiet agony once again. His lips curled up from the pain, and his eyes squeezed shut.
It was possible ten minutes passed, or only seven. He’s lost count. When Rory returned he didn’t say a word, he just got to work. He handed him some tablets and a glass of water, and the Doctor took it obediently. Then he rolled the doctor onto his side, and placed a heating pad onto his hip, before pulling the covers back up.
Before he knew it Rory had lotion on his hands and was working from his hand up, massaging his knuckles and wrist, one at a time in a pattern, over and over. Time slowed. He moved to his arm, up to his elbow, then shoulder. Next was for him to flip and do the other side.
He didn’t expect Rory to go further. He didn’t expect him to want to get that intimate; But he did without comment or prompting. He sat down on the bed behind him and started on his hip, then leg, then ankle, then moved him so his face was right against Rory’s criss-cross legs did the other leg too.
At some point Amy had come in, he couldn’t be sure when as he had started to drift off. She was brushing his hair, getting out every small snag without saying a word. It was nothing short of heavenly. At some point he became conscious enough to try to show gratitude, pressing his lips to Rory’s shin. He could feel the body hair and the heat of another living being, and it was as perfect as anything could be, to be so close to a human. For that he earned two kisses to his cheek, one from Amy behind him first, and another from Rory in front of him.
He fell asleep to the sound of hair running through a brush, and hands on skin, and absolutely silent adoration. It had been a long time since he’d felt quite so safe. He hadn’t slept so soundly in years.