He was always there. Ever since they escaped from Trenzalore, he was always hovering, always solicitous, always protective. Those first few days, he'd literally never left her side. Every time she'd opened her eyes, there he was, always with a tender smile and gentle voice. She thought it must be killing him to stay so long in one place, but he never once protested. And neither did she. She knew this wouldn't last, that as she grew stronger, he'd pull away from her. Not too far, she hoped, but she knew he'd never maintain this level of openness for long.
Those first few days, when she was far too weak to do much of anything, he'd sat by her side and told her stories of all his past lives and companions, helping her to put them into perspective. So very many companions had traveled with him before her, all of them unique. Leela, quite frankly, had scared her. Sarah Jane intrigued her, and she wondered of it might perhaps be possible to contact her when she returned home to London.
She particularly loved the memories of his fifth incarnation. There was a soft spot in her heart for poor, orphaned Adric, and she secretly thought that it might be a lot of fun to have another girl her own age to share adventures with.
She'd been too shy to ask much about his beloved Rose, respecting the deep pain that shadowed his eyes at the mention of her name. The memories of their time together were suffused with such joy. She didn't blame him for closing off his hearts and hiding from the loss. She wondered if he'd ever have the courage to try to find that kind of joy again.
She thinks she's getting better the day she realized that she'd last washed her hair April 10, 2013, before this whole mess started. She knew she wasn't, really, when he had to pick her up from the floor of her shower and put her back to bed. That was beyond mortifying, but the image of him with his eyes screwed shut, holding out a clean nightgown at arm's length sort of made up for it.
He'd held her later on, as she wept out her rage and frustration at her own weakness.
She knows she's finally getting better when he deems her fit to go for a walk outside. She forgets the name of the planet, but it's peaceful and beautiful, and they stroll arm in arm through a soaring autumnal forest. She'd shivered slightly in the breeze, and he'd immediately slipped off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
Part of her wanted to protest that she's not made of porcelain, but the look in his eyes stilled her. He wanted - needed - to take care of her, and just then, that was exactly what she needed, too.