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Rose stumbles slightly under the weight of the Doctor draped over her right shoulder. He rouses briefly from his stupor and tries to pull back, and the motion further disrupts her center of gravity, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.
Wincing at a brief shot of pain through her wrist, Rose grits her teeth and pushes herself off the ground to stand over the Doctor’s prone form, chewing restlessly on her thumbnail as she considers their situation.
Just over an hour ago they’d walked away from the small band of gypsies they’d helped rescue from a bad situation, and shortly after their departure, the Doctor began acting strange, his voice slurring and feet stumbling over the ground. She’d asked if he was okay, but in typical Doctor fashion, he’d shrugged off her concerns and dove into an impressive lecture about the gypsy movement on the planet. She’d quickly realized, however, that something was most definitely wrong when he began to lean heavily on her for support, his words morphine into nonsensical gibberish.
Now, Rose looks around and breathes a sigh of relief when she spots the TARDIS in the distance. She can carry him a little bit further.
Taking a deep breath, Rose squats and tries to get the Doctor’s attention. “Doctor! Doctor, wake up!” She gently slaps his cheek and then shakes his shoulder, but he doesn’t move. Temporarily forcing aside her excessive worry about his well-being, Rose considers how to get the Doctor to the TARDIS. Since he’s apparently no longer able to carry some of his own weight, she can’t very well support him like she’s done to this point. The slope between herself and the TARDIS is mostly grass, so with a few words of apology to the Doctor and his suit, she rolls him to his back, slides her arms under his armpits, and begins pulling him toward their home.
When she reaches the door, Rose gently rests the Doctor on the ground before digging her key out from its place between her breasts and unlocks the door.
“Rooooooooose,” the Doctor moans quietly. Rose whips around, and her eyes widen when she finds the Doctor in a fetal position, panting slightly. Distracted by the effort to pull the Doctor up the slight hill to the TARDIS, she’s neglected to notice the thin sheen of sweat that now covers his face. His eyes are closed, but when she covers his normally cool forehead with her hand, it’s warm beneath her touch.
What’s going on?
“Doctor, I’m not sure what happened, but I’m gonna take care of you. I promise. I’ll do the best I can.” Rose stands and wonders how she’s going to get him up the ramp and to the medbay. He’s a lot heavier than he looks. Must be that Time Lord brain of his.
A loud beeping from the console momentarily distracts her, and Rose looks up to find a futuristic wheelchair on the grating. “Oh, you. You’re brilliant, you know that?” Rose shouts at the TARDIS as she runs up the ramp to fetch the wheelchair. She smiles faintly for just a moment, realizing how much she sounds like the Doctor these days.
Returning to the Doctor, she’s delighted to discover that the wheelchair can be adjusted to function as a medical transport bed. She positions it next to the Doctor on the ground and, in several rocking motions, rolls him onto the bed. Rose straps the Doctor in and pushes him inside the TARDIS.
The ship has moved the medbay just outside the console room, and Rose breathes a sigh of relief when they’re safely inside. She lines the transport bed up with the wider, more comfortable medical bed and rolls the Doctor onto its surface. It’s not graceful at all, and while Rose feels the sweat dripping down her back from her efforts to bring the Doctor back to the TARDIS, all that matters to her is that they’re safe. They’re home.
Rose shrugs out of her sweatshirt and tosses it onto the wheelchair, before returning her attention to the Doctor. His condition has worsened since she last checked him outside the TARDIS, and he’s now burning under her fingers. His hair is damp, his fringe sticking to his forehead, and she’s worried he has some incurable version of a Time Lord flu.
She’s not a medical expert in the slightest, but Rose decides to do what her Mum’s always done for her when she’s sick. Rose quickly makes a cold compress with a towel and places it on the Doctor’s forehead. For several minutes she simply sits by his side and watches his face, remembering the last time she’d done so, immediately after his regeneration.
The memories of his regeneration send a fresh wave of panic through Rose’s mind. Is this some kind of delayed symptom of regeneration? She jumps up and rushes around the medbay, looking for a stethoscope. Upon returning to the Doctor’s side, she finds a small tray with a tiny device the Doctor has used on her several times to test her blood. Somewhat confident with the process, she dons gloves and pricks the Doctor’s finger, watching curiously as a dark, orangish blossom of blood appears at the end of his finger. Rose picks up a tiny, glass vial and squeezes a few drops of blood inside.
Rose walks to the scanner, places the vial in the correct port, pushes the button, and waits for the results, hoping the TARDIS will translate the circular Gallifreyan into English just this once. Several minutes pass, and Rose fidgets restlessly as she waits, chewing on her nails and glancing anxiously at the Doctor every few seconds.
Recalling the Doctor’s past actions when she’s been the one on the table in the medbay, Rose finds a device to monitor vitals and, after some effort to remove his jacket and button-up shirt, attaches it to his forearm. She breathes a sigh of relief when the screen shows both hearts beating steadily, and despite not knowing the normal status of his vitals, there’s no indication of anything exceptionally abnormal.
The scanner beeps, and Rose jumps at the noise. She turns to inspect the results, hoping she’ll understand what she finds. In flashing red letters, one line is highlighted, and when she’s not familiar with the elevated substance in the Doctor’s system, she presses the word on the scanner until it brings up a detailed description of the substance.
It turns out it’s a special variety of mushroom which, when ingested in large quantities, acts as a powerful narcotic for a Time Lord. Some Gallifreyans will have increased negative reactions to the fungus in the form of inhibited neurological reactions which causes partial paralysis and other symptoms. Of course the Doctor is one of these Gallifreyans. Rose remembers the Doctor had rather enthusiastically eaten several servings of the meal the gypsies offered them, and she’s certain the meal contained mushrooms of some kind. For a moment, she panics, having ingested the food herself, but upon reading further, she’s relieved to find out the mushrooms have no negative effect on humans.
Rose quickly reads the rest of the information about the Doctor’s condition, paying close attention when she reaches the part describing the antidote required to cure him. With a watery laugh, she shakes her head.
Tea.
The words of the Doctor filter through her mind. “A superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for healing the synapses.”
The whole time she’s been worrying, all he’s needed is tea!
Rose turns off the scanner and returns to the Doctor’s side, relieved to note his condition has stabilized for the moment. “Doctor, I’m gonna go make some tea, and I’ll be back in a mo’.” She sends a few silent words to the TARDIS, asking the ship to let her know if the Doctor’s condition changes during her absence.
A quick trip to the galley later, Rose returns with the Doctor’s favorite mug full of freshly brewed tea. She’s left out his usual heaping of sugar and milk, concerned the ingredients might interfere with the healing properties of the tea, and positions herself on the edge of the bed, nudging the Doctor up into a partial sitting position. His head lolls to the side, and she leans forward to let it rest against her chest and arm. With her other hand, Rose brings the mug to the Doctor’s mouth. As the steam from the tea rises, the Doctor inhales with a long breath, opening his mouth on an exhale. Rose tips the mug up, letting a tiny bit of tea pour into the Doctor’s mouth, and she exhales the breath she didn’t know she was holding when he swallows. She repeats the process a few more times until the Doctor stirs within her arms. He lets out a groan, and Rose smiles.
“Hello,” she says. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you back.”
“Rose?” he asks, confusion evident in his voice. “What happened? Where am I?”
“You’re on the TARDIS. I had to drag you back, ya great big lug. You ate too many of those mushrooms the gypsies gave us. Scared me half to death, Doctor.”
The Doctor shakes his head before pushing himself out of Rose’s arms and into a sitting position. He looks around the medbay with bleary eyes, lingering for a moment on the scanner, before focusing on Rose. He smiles softly, before reaching out and pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“You took care of me?”
Rose rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah. You weren’t half conscious, leaning on me and talking nonsense. What else was I supposed to do? Thankfully, the TARDIS helped me. Gave me the wheelchair and the equipment to test your blood. She even translated the scanner for me.” She leans over and pats the coral strut close to the bed. “‘Sides, you’ve taken care of me loads of times. Remember that one time after Glofrix Three when I got that alien flu? You didn’t leave my side for days, Doctor.”
He’s quiet for a moment before looking up at Rose. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since anyone’s taken care of me. Well, except for my regeneration sickness. It’s hard to get used to, that’s all.”
Rose feels tears prick at her eyes and turns to place the tea on the cart still sitting next to the bed. Scooting closer to the Doctor, she wraps her arm around his middle and rests her forehead on his shoulder, humming happily when his arm rests gently around her shoulders. “You deserve someone to look after you. Don’t always have to be alone, you know.”
The Doctor kisses the top of Rose’s head. “I’d be useless without you, Rose. Thank you.”