Pyramids of Mars- The 4th Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith are saving all life from Sutekh the Destroyer, but right now they're trapped in the force field in the woods and have to sonic a vase, which serves as a relay and a door.
I do not have any affiliations with the making or rights of Doctor Who.
"I'll need you to hold that straight now, and tell me if it gets hot."
Sarah Jane didn't bother to ask why it might get hot—she supposed it had something to do with the sonic vibrating atoms of the base instead of interfering with the electromagnetic signal. A low whir of the sonic screwdriver sounded dully in the wood. It was quite a peaceful place really, if you could get past the fact there were robot mummies on a rampage, and life itself was at stake. Shifting her shoes uncomfortably, a small part of her regretted wearing this dress. She's was making it filthy, probably, crouching here on the forest floor. Humble but strong-willed, she dismissed the thought. She enjoyed feeling fancy.
"How much longer, Doctor?"
"I'm afraid I don't know. It's very tricky business. The whole thing could blow up at any second if I activate the wrong electromagnetic frequency…" he puffed his cheeks like he does. Sarah Jane puckered her lips, extinguishing her urge to recoil. Touchy stuff. The Doctor mumbled incoherently, until she could pick out a few words. Ah, she loved his mumblings. "…like repairing a watch with a hammer and chisel."
Suddenly, the sonic whir rose a few octaves, emitting a scream with the annoyance of a hundred mosquitos. "Agh Doctor" she protested, wincing.
He tilted his own head uncomfortably, "nearly there." Adjusting the screwdriver yet again, the pitch rose higher, and higher..."Doctor I can't bear this much longer"
"Just a moment, just a small moment." He brushed her comment aside, though his own ears were ringing and his bulging eyes began to water, whether with the intensity of his work or the insulting sound, he didn't know. His scarf was suddenly seeming very restricting.
All her senses were screaming at her to withdraw her hands from the Egyptian vase and cover her ears, turn away, run as far away as she could…but, no, she must stay and help the Doctor, even if it did mean holding a vase in the middle of a wood and pretending not to hear the eardrum-crushing horror that was the sonic screwdriver.
"Doctor, please…" she tilted her head away, tears forming in her eyes from the intensity of the whir and the way it seemed to vibrate her skull. Her ears had begun to throb painfully, as if she were losing a boxing match.
"Hold on, just a bit….more…"he breathed through gritted teeth, a bead of sweat dripping down his large nose. The whir rose in pitch the tiniest amount.
The din was simply too much. Sarah Jane felt a heavenly blanket cover her senses, her eyes unseeing and her throbbing ears now silent. Something hot was emerging from her ears, trickling down her neck. She vaguely felt the familiar sensation of falling backwards, but a rough, creviced surface grazed against her fingertips. The vase…I need to hold…the vase, she whispered in her mind.
Keeping herself up long enough to retain the pot's stability, she felt an otherworldly sensation of release. Freedom. Sweet, sweet, ambrosial freedom. Without another thought, she allowed herself to flop backwards onto the hard forest floor.
The Doctor sighed heavily and opened his eyes, the manic grin that seemed to show all of his teeth at once now stretched triumphantly across his face. To his surprise, Sarah Jane was not next to him. He blinked. Had he missed something?
Rubbing his eyes, he looked around before…ah…there she was. Right where he left her. "This is no time for a nap, Sarah Jane. Just because you're in a dress in a forest it doesn't make you Snow White." He nudged her shoe. "Come on, up you get. We have an Osirian to defeat."
Something was wrong.
Jamming his wonky hat on his unruly curls, the Doctor bent over Sarah Jane's expressionless face. He patted it hurriedly with one hand. "Sarah. Sarah Jane Smith can you hear me?" He felt panic rise in his hearts as his eyes traced the crimson trickle making its way down to the blouse of her white dress, one for each delicate, human ear…The realization hit him like a brick.
Lifting her up in both arms, the Doctor sprinted back to the estate, crawling oddly through the window with his companion hanging limply all the while. Once inside the TARDIS, he lay her gently down on the white floor, launching himself at a medical scanner and a soft-organic-tissue regenerator.
Her brown locks framed her face, looking so peaceful were it not for the snaking tendrils of scarlet creeping slowly from her ears. "Sarah Jane," he sighed, reading the product of the scanner. Nothing horribly serious. Gently and ever so carefully, he tended to her ears, mumbling to himself all the while of the tissues he was repairing, on how they were so fragile to begin with. Wiping the blood with a clean, damp cloth, he scanned her once more. Thank goodness for that trip to Ractinos Prime last week.
Sighing with relief, the Doctor cleared away his supplies. Tucking a lock of rich brown behind her pale ears, he allowed himself a small, genuine smile of gratitude Her hearing may have improved a teensy bit, but his Sarah Jane was good as new. Sleepy, but good as new.