Title: Ships in the Night
Summary: While the Doctor is resting after becoming injured, the TARDIS reflects on his relationship with River Song. 11 Doctor Whump! Summary is crap cause I can't come up with one for my life, but the fic is good.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Amy/Rory, mentions Doctor/River
Characters: Amy, Rory, the Doctor, the TARDIS
Disclaimer: I in no way, shape or form own Doctor Who. Oh how I wish I did, but alas, I'm American. :-)
Author's Note: This is set sometime after season six, but it doesn't include any of season 7, so.. yeah..
"Ow! Ow! Ow-ow-ow-ow! Ow, get it out already!" the Doctor practically yelled at his two companions who knelt, frozen in shock and fear of making things worse for their friend. They watched, one feeling helpless, the other merely hesitant, as the Doctor writhed on the floor in pain.
Once again, they had arrived on a planet where they'd been forced to run, but not before Amy had managed to offend the villagers simply by posing for a picture on the statue in the middle of the town. None of them had known that it was sacred to the townsfolk or that it was off limits until the villagers had run, screaming, out of their huts with spears and crossbows in their hands. Much to Amy's horror, the Doctor paid the price for her perceived sin.
They had been about a kilometer away from the TARDIS when the Doctor, who had been leading, fell to the ground with a strangled cry of pain. Without stopping to think of anything but getting safe, Amy and Rory grabbed the Doctor by the arms and hauled him to his feet, essentially dragging him to the time machine.
It was a move they now deeply regretted for it had left the Doctor in excruciating pain ever since.
An arrow stuck out of the Doctor's knee, the point bloody from where it had sailed through the tissue, muscle, and tendons of the Doctor's leg. Every few seconds, Rory would stick his hands out towards the arrow as though he were going to do something, but then he would retract his hands just as quickly.
"Rory, we have to do something," Amy urged, her eyes frantic and pleading.
"What do you want me to do? Perform surgery on him right here? I don't have the proper tools, and if I pull that arrow out, he could bleed out faster than I could stop it," Rory argued, looking just as frantic as Amy.
"Urgh!" Amy growled, clearly frustrated by their lack of options. "We have to get him to the med bay. From there, you can do the surgery and, I don't know, knock him out or something."
"But how do we get him there?" Rory countered. "We can't just drag him-"
"-yes you can! Just get this thing out!" the Doctor argued, butting in before Amy could say anything back.
"You heard him!" Amy commanded, grabbing the Doctor's arms and waiting for Rory to grab his legs. When the nurse refused to do it, she barked at him again, "Move!"
With yet more reluctance, Rory grabbed the Doctor's legs, taking more care with the injured one than he did the non-injured one. He tried to keep the one with the arrow relatively still, but it didn't work. Twice Rory had lost his grip of the Doctor's legs and had to juggle him to readjust his hold; the Doctor's cry of pain had ripped through his companion's hearts, doing much more damage than the arrow that currently resided through the Doctor's leg.
They finally got the Doctor in the med lab, placing him on top of the closest table as gently as they could. Once on the table, Amy put her upper torso on top of the Doctor's chest to hold him down until Rory could inject some pain medication or anesthetic into his veins.
"Hold on, Doctor," she cooed, staring into his hazel eyes and trying to instill calm in them. He sucked in a huge breath and held it, as though he were using it to control the pain that raged through his leg. Amy winced when she realized that he was doing it for her, that he was trying to show less pain for her benefit. She never wanted him to do that, never!
"Alright, ready Doctor?"
The Doctor rolled his eyes at the question, obviously unable to answer. He let out a deep, throaty groan when Rory grabbed the arrow and nudged it.
"For God's sake, Rory, can't you give him anything before you begin takin that thing out?" Amy snapped, unable to hear another sound of pain come out of the Time Lord's mouth.
"I don't know what's safe to give him and I thought that you and he wanted the arrow out sooner rather than later."
"North counter, bottom drawer, purple vial," the Doctor instructed through ground teeth. Tears leaked out of his eyes as he continued to control his breathing. He was doing his best not to let the full extent of the pain out anymore – the heartbreaking look he got from Amy every time he did was killing him almost as much as the arrow through the knee was – but it was getting harder and harder to do since he was pretty sure the thing had also gone through his kneecap as well as the soft tissue.
Rory ran with the instructions and was back before the Doctor knew he'd even been gone, slowly injecting the liquid from the purple vial into the Time Lord's veins. As he began to relax, the Doctor felt his hold on reality starting to slip. The only thing keeping him grounded was the feel of Amy's hand on his forehead as she brushed his hair off his face and tried to smooth out the deep lines of pain that were etched in it.
"Go to sleep, Doctor," Amy bid in his ear. "You'll feel better when you wake up, I promise."
"I'm gonna hold you to that Pond," he promised in return, finally allowing unconsciousness to take him.
Amy Pond paced the halls of the TARDIS, barely able to keep her agitation from leaking out and soaking into the ship. She was anxious for the Doctor to awaken; he'd passed out right before Rory had taken the arrow out – that was two days ago and he hadn't awoken since. Between the two of them they had managed to keep a watchful eye on the Doctor, silently monitoring his vitals as much as they could as well as looking for signs of waking.
"There you are," Rory called on her hundredth time through. She looked up hopefully at him, thinking he'd come because the Doctor was awake, but at her look, he shook his head. "He hasn't woken yet, but you need to eat and get some rest."
"I'm fine," she declined, making her way through her one-hundredth-and-one trip.
"No, you're not," Rory argued, his love for her as well as his nursing skills taking over for his rationality. He opened his mouth to say more but a crash coming from the closest room to them stopped any further argument as they both rushed to see what had happened.
The Doctor sat, half leaning, half standing, against the table he'd been on, with his hands on his knees and panting heavily. His complexion, though normally quite pale, was even whiter, giving him the look of one who was dead rather than alive. His left pant leg was torn up the side, revealing a thick and heavy bandage that was wrapped around his knee; a spot of blood covered the top of the bandage, showing where the arrow had penetrated through the bone and skin.
"Doctor, what are you doin?!" Amy cried, rushing over to the Time Lord and trying to get him back off his feet. When it became obvious that she wasn't about to get him back onto the table, she helped him into the chair that either Rory or she had used while they'd babysat the sleeping alien.
"Thanks," panted the Doctor. His torso remained bent, but she couldn't tell if it was because he was in pain or if he was just tired from the little amount of energy he'd expanded while moving. "You lied," he stated, pointing a finger at her as she stared at him like he was insane. "I don't feel better. In fact, I believe I actually feel worse."
"At least you aren't in agony anymore," she replied.
"I wasn't in agony, I was never in agony," the Doctor argued in his usual tone, but his eyes spoke of not only his relief but his gratitude as well.
Amy let the expressions pass seemingly unnoticed. She'd mention it later when it was just she and the Doctor. The Doctor had no problem hugging people, but he was a very private being and she doubted she'd be able to discuss anything honestly with Rory around.
"Right, well, it's obvious that you won't get back on the table, so let's try and get you in bed," Rory suggested, his medical training merging with his common sense.
"Bed, why do I need to go to bed? I'm fine. I'm the King of Fine – ooh! I like that – the King of Fine." The Doctor then gave a grimace and said, "No, scratch that, that's a rubbish title. Still, the point is valid, I'm fine and I don't need to go to bed."
"Doctor, you could barely get off the table," Rory pointed out, easily stating the obvious.
"Don't be silly, I could get off it fine," the Doctor stubbornly argued.
Rory crossed his arms, his stubborn side slowly coming out. "Alright," he conceded much to Amy's confusion, "let's see you walk to the door then."
"What?" both Amy and the Doctor asked as one.
"You heard me," Rory answered. "Walk to the door to prove that you're fine and I'll let the subject go."
"What sort of nonsense is that-" Amy began before being cut off by Rory.
"-Amy, stay out of this."
"I will not stay out of this because this is ridiculous!' Amy snapped, angry that Rory had spoken to her like that and that he was trying to goad the Doctor into causing himself more pain. "We all know that the Doctor couldn't walk that far, not when he's just woken up from having an arrow cut out of his leg!"
"That's the point," the Doctor quietly replied, drawing Amy's fire for a brief second. She stared down at him with angry eyes, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to finish explaining. "He wants me to prove to everyone that I couldn't make it, thus proving his point that I need to be in bed. Oh, very smart Rory Pond. Still, it's not going to work; I'm not going to rise to the bait."
"Well of course you won't now, now that Amy's pointed it out."
"Oi!"
"Did you really think I would before? I'm a Time Lord; I don't fall for silly traps like that." Amy and Rory rose their eyebrows, their expressions arguing against the Doctor's latest statement. "Oh, shut up," he said with a smile, knowing they were right.
"Right, well since we all know that you can't make it to the door, I believe it's to bed with you," Amy said for Rory, knowing that she would have a better go at getting the alien to comply.
The Doctor pouted for a few seconds before he gave in, "Yes, alright, let's go. But do you have something I can use to limp around with, or will I have to settle for you two?"
"Settle?" Amy asked, offended at the idea.
"Amazingly, the TARDIS has a set of crutches that you can use," Rory answered as he went to grab the instruments.
"What? How did we get crutches on here? Ol' girl, did you load those when you reconfigured the med lab?" The Doctor waited for a few seconds, seemingly to wait for an answer, before he continued on, sounding as though the TARDIS had actually answered. "Of course you did, you sexy thing."
"You're calling the TARDIS a sexy thing for supplying you with a set of crutches?" Rory asked, sounding appalled at the idea.
"Yeah, well, she is sexy, and I really don't tell her that enough."
"No, I think you do," Rory countered.
"Anyways!" Amy interrupted before the conversation could turn into a long-standing, juvenile argument. "Shall we?"
"You know, I don't need an escort, I can make it to my room by myself," the Doctor grumbled as he stiffly got to his feet.
"Yeah, and we trust you to actually get there by yourself and not, say, escape under the TARDIS or anythin'," Amy countered with an eye roll.
"Oi! I can be trusted to get where I'm supposed to be on my own; I'm over a thousand years old, for goodness' sake, I'm not a child."
"You wouldn't know it from the way you act," Rory mumbled under his breath, earning a glare from the Doctor and a giggle from Amy.
"Watch it," the Doctor warned with a half smile on his face.
"Or what? You gonna leave me someplace? Cause I think Amy might have a problem with that," Rory challenged.
"Your husband's in a feisty mood, isn't it," the Doctor asked Amy just as a wince crossed his face. He quickly asserted a smile when he noticed Amy frown at it, hoping that it helped appease her worrying mind.
"Yes he is," Amy replied, looking at her husband with a glint in her eyes that the Doctor knew very well.
"Oh, get a room." He paused for a moment and thought of the last time they had done that on the TARDIS and amended, "No, wait, scratch that, don't get a room, don't ever get a room when you want to do that. In fact, stay as far away from each other as possible when you want to do that. The last thing we need is another River Song running around."
"Oi, watch it. That's our daughter you're talkin' about," Amy joked, giving the Doctor a light punch on the arm.
"Besides, maybe this time you'll meet in the right order," Rory added unhelpfully.
"Oh sure, rub it in," the Doctor groused, though everyone knew he didn't mean it. Well, okay, so he could possibly mean it, but they didn't actually know how he felt about the whole River thing since he seemed to just accept it as it is rather than say anything about it. He winced again as he made another step with the crutches, but neither Rory nor Amy noticed it as they were busy staring at each other.
The Doctor rolled his eyes when he noticed that the two humans were no longer paying attention to him because they were so busy staring at one another.
"Oh, go already," he granted, watching with a smile as they practically bounded to their own room. He waited for a moment, pausing to not only catch his breath, but to call after them, "but don't blame me when the next one has a 'time head'!"
"Oh, don't worry Doctor, we won't," Rory assured, pausing for a minute to turn around and look at the Time Lord before Amy dragged him away, claiming, "Yes we will!"
The Doctor chuckled at his companions. As though by magic, which he knew didn't exist, his bedroom door appeared by his side. He smiled and patted the wall nearest him.
"Tryin' to give me a hint, eh ol' girl?" he asked his ship, giving a bittersweet smile when he didn't receive an answer. The smile grew to a genuine one when the door opened for him. Yes, the TARDIS couldn't physically talk, but if you listened correctly, she never shut up.
"I don't suppose another River Song would be a bad thing," he thought out loud as he sat down on his bed. He took a second to debate changing into pajamas, but he decided he'd rather just go to sleep and wake up feeling refreshed instead. He lay down upon the bed, his eyes closing the minute his head hit the pillow.
"Maybe this time we'd actually meet in the right order," he mumbled before he fell into a healing sleep.
The TARDIS watched her Time Lord with a smile on a metaphorical face. Yes, another River Song would not be a bad thing, but oh how much of an optimist her thief was because he and River Song were never to meet in the right order. It would always be just him and her.
River Song and the Doctor would always be two ships in the night – destined to simply pass each other by for all their long lives. Sure, they would meet when the moon was bright, but it was never to be for long.
Still, she hummed a soothing, almost encouraging song to her Time Lord. It never hurt to keep hoping.
~fin~