Donna watched the Doctor, tipping her cup, until the warm tea flooded her mouth again. She wanted to reach out, had the strongest desire to mother him, but she held herself in check. She wasn't sure how much he would appreciate it, and she didn't want to scare him off.
They were awkward around each other sometimes, in the quite moments. If there was no running for their lives, if he took her somewhere that was just calm and wonderful, sometimes he just looked at her, and she didn't know what to think.
She couldn't imagine what he was thinking, had agreed to friends as quickly as he had. It seemed like a silly action now, really. Agreeing to something when they hardly knew each other, and she wouldn't go so far to say that he had grown on her, but he did have his certain appeal.
He was good to her, always encouraging her, letting her find herself while he supported her. Donna felt happy for the first time in quite a while, since Lance really. And that wasn't even real, just a ruse that had left her heartbroken, but so much better off.
She looked over the Doctor, his head on the table, body sagging against the wood.
His tea was growing cold, but he didn't lift his head, and after a moment she heard the soft sound of snoring. She shook her head, collecting his mug as quietly as she could and bringing them to the sink. She moved over to him, taking silent steps, though she suspected she didn't need to bother. He didn't flinch when her hand touched his head, his breathing remained deep and even.
He was hot, and she knew that his fever must be making him terribly uncomfortable.
His skin had always seems cooler than hers, not that she was paying that much attention…but it was overly warm now. She brushed back his hair, his cheeks slightly flushed, and the rest of his face overly pale. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as old as he did when something was breaking his hearts.
He had a young enough face, but his soul…the weight he carried shined through in his illness.
"Doctor," she said, rubbing his shoulder gently. "Come on, we have to get you back to bed."
He jerked up, his breathing raspy, as he looked around the room. His eyes were red rimmed, the brown seeming to shine with their background. He put his hands on the table, his hands shaking slightly, and he worry for him grew.
He finally began to calm, letting out a harsh cough, and rubbing at his chest for a moment.
"Doctor?" she asked, stepping closer. "Are you okay?"
It was a silly question, really. They both knew that he wasn't fine, and she was worried this wasn't some simply bug, but she thought he might respond better if he was the one to admit he might need her.
He shook his head, waving her off, and looking around the table.
"I'm fine, Donna," he said. "Where did my tea go?"
"I got rid of it," she said, reaching out to help him up. He jerked away from her. "It was cold, Doctor. Let's get you to bed, I'll make you some more."
"I was going to drink that!" he said, his tone the sort of sharp he reserved for when they were in danger.
She sighed, fighting back the instinct to snap back at him. Yelling wasn't going to do any good, and he didn't deserve it. He was just sick, and the fever was probably clouding up his brain.
"Doctor," she said. "I'll make you more, but you need to get rest."
He stood up quickly, knocking the chair back, and jumping when the chair clattered to the floor.
"I'm fine, Donna!" he said, huffing. He headed for the door. "Just listen for once in your life, and leave me alone!"
She stared at the space he had just been. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back quickly. Donna walked over, carefully pulling his chair up, and pushing it back under the table, and ran her hand over the back of it.
He didn't mean it, he was not thinking right, but the sting didn't fade with that knowledge. If he wasn't someone she truly cared about, she would be angry, but right now, it just hurt that he was lashing out at her.
She looked around the room, while the TARDIS hummed low sounds she thought were meant to be a form of comfort.
"How do I help him?" she asked the empty room.
When no answers were provided, she sighed, and went to put the kettle on again.
Her hands felt too idle, just waiting on the water, so she pulled out a pot and went to search the refrigerator. They didn't use the kitchen for much other than tea, and quick food storage, but she had cooked enough to know how to make a decent soup.
She added the ingredients, and hummed softly, turning on the heat. The kettle whistled, and she grabbed a fresh mug, adding the honey once more. She wasn't sure what sort of medicine he could take, and she didn't want to give him the wrong thing, so until he was going to be a bit more helpful, this was going to have to do.
She carried it out into the hall, searching for the Doctor. He wasn't in his room, and she doubted he would want her to poke around in there, so she moved on. He wasn't in the console room, and finally she made her way down to the library.
She pushed the door open, and it took a moment to spot his feet hanging off one of the couches closest to the fire. She stepped over the books, grumbling slightly about how she was going to have to be the one to clean them up.
He always came in here, plucking an armful of books off the shelf, and reading them in a short while, then forgetting them beside the chair.
She made her way over, his snoring louder as she got closer. He was on his back, one arm hanging off the chair, his mouth open slightly. He coughed, shifting as she sat the tea down, but he didn't wake.
She'd like to leave him there, let him rest, but she really wanted to get him checked out. She was worried about how congested his breathing was sounding, and knew that they needed to get that fever down.
"Doctor?" she said softly, touching his leg near his ankle. "Doctor…. wake up. Let's get you taken care of."
He didn't respond other than pulling his arm up to his chest, and she sighed.
She shook his foot. "Doctor.?" She said. "Come on, please."
It took a moment, but he jerked up once more. He glared at her at once, coughing until he was bent at the waist.
She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to help him up. He reached up, and shoved her away. He was weaker than normal, but she still lost a step back and glared right back at him.
"You're acting like a child," she said, heading for him.
He jumped up with a speed that surprised, her, and headed for the door.
"Well, you're acting like Donna," he said. "She's so damn stubborn all the time."
"Doctor?" Donna asked, anger fading quickly. "It's me, Donna."
He stopped and looked at her, wrinkling up his brow, before he collapsed.