Rose could not believe she was babysitting a who-knows-how-old Time Lord while stuck spinning in the Time Vortex, because of a cold. The Doctor had been coughing and complaining all day from deep within the bundle he had made out of pillows and sheets in his room, and he seemed to be going through Kleenex boxes at a truly remarkable speed. There had been requests for three different types of soup, four kinds of tea, at least ten glasses of water, and seven books. Throughout the past day, he had managed to complain twenty times about how it was unthinkable that he had caught a human illness, and how do humans function with their ears and noses all clogged up like this on a routine basis.
Rose sighed. She could hear stirrings from his room, and she started towards the hallway when the room began to spin around her. She stopped and put a hand to her head to steady herself, only to realize that she felt distinctly hotter than she had five minutes ago, and her throat was beginning to hurt.
Oh dear, she thought. If I'm sick, who will make sure the Doctor doesn't injure himself getting out of bed for a book?
