The TARDIS stood silently in the alley, the light on top dimmed.

"Oh my god..." I hurried over towards the TARDIS doors, Amy and Rory hard on my heels. I reached for the door latch, but found that it was locked. "Let me in!" I pounded on the wooden door, feeling my palm burn with pain, "Open right now so I can get to my husband!"

I gasped and jerked my hand back as the door unlocked itself, swinging outwards towards me. Apparently the time machine recognized me as a Time Lady, and I felt a twinge of thankfulness as I seized the door, pulling it open completely. I could hear Rory and Amy breathing hard behind me as I stepped inside, surprised to find the large console room only dimly lit. The air felt so still that I half-imagined I couldn't properly catch my breath.

After taking a few quick steps past the door, I stopped dead. My throat closed until I couldn't take a single breath. The Doctor lay crumpled on the ground beside the center console, turned away from me.

"Doctor!" I couldn't stop the gasping scream that escaped my lips as I rushed madly towards him, arms outstretched. Rory gave a shout behind me, galloping up by my side, and we reached the Doctor at the same time. I skidded down onto the floor beside the Time Lord, calling his name. He lay on his side, his eyes closed in his peaceful face. For one terrible, heart-breaking moment I thought that he was dead, and all I could do was wail his name as I stroked his mop of hair back from his forehead. But his skin was warm, feverish actually, and Rory felt his chest with professional hands and confirmed that the Doctor was still breathing.

The nurse slowly turned the Doctor over onto his back, checking his pulse and starting to pull aside his clothes. Now that I knew he was still alive, I could take in the rest of him. He was still dressed in his wedding clothes, but they were tattered and torn in several places. His skin was flushed with fever, his chest now clearly rising and falling, since he was lying on his back. As Rory began to examine the Doctor for injuries, Amy knelt down beside me. There were tears on her face, and I realized that she'd also thought that he was dead. My hearts clenched as she gave me a stricken look.

Rory made a small sound, and I quickly returned my attention to the Doctor. In his searching, Rory had opened the Time Lord's buttoned shirt, exposing his pale skin and a series of long, thin cuts across his slim chest and belly. I gasped, leaning forward in alarm as Rory carefully examined the wounds.

"Knife cuts, not too new," he announced in his best nurse voice, but his hands were shaking slightly. I bit my lip to keep from crying. Someone had obviously hurt the Doctor, and my hands balled into fists as I contemplated what I'd do to such a person. Rory carefully stripped the Doctor down to his waist, searching carefully with his eyes and hands for any other wounds. "I need to find out what's giving him this fever so we can treat him in the TARDIS sick bay," Rory muttered, turning the still-unconscious Doctor over onto his side again, checking his back. The skin there was smooth and unblemished. Nothing there.

It was then that I noticed a small stain on the upper thigh of the Doctor's left leg, like blood soaking through the fabric of his tattered trousers. I pointed to it wordlessly, and Rory quickly tore the fabric the rest of the way aside to reveal a nasty-looking bite mark, torn into the Time Lord's upper leg. I flinched when I saw it, the raw painfulness of it shooting straight to my hearts.

"Oh..." Amy whispered, and Rory moved quickly, scooping the Doctor up in his arms and carting him away from me. Amy and I leaped to our feet, jogging after the teetering nurse as he staggered towards the sick bay.

"There may be infection," he called, "we've got to get him stabilized, get his fever down, get him awake..." He trotted down the hall and into the first pair of automatic sliding doors, Amy and I running behind him. Inside, the sick bay was a vast white room lined with a few medical beds and an abundance of equipment, odd-looking tools, and scanners. Rory gently laid the Doctor down on the nearest bed, moving to gather up heart monitors and a few scanners. I stood next to the Doctor's head, staring down at his still, quiet face. I wished for his eyelids to flutter, for him to open his beautiful, ancient eyes, and tell me everything was going to be okay. I bit my lip, hot tears prickling the corners of my eyes as Rory began attaching various nodes to the Doctor's chest and abdomen. Various monitors started beeping various things, but all I could focus on was the motionless face of the Time Lord.

"I'm going to take a closer look at that bite on his leg," Rory muttered, snapping on sterile gloves and leaning over the wounded leg. He touched the wound carefully, his face serious and thoughtful. All at once the Doctor's whole body jerked and a low grown issued from his throat. His eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain as I took hold of his shoulders, making sure he didn't move and hurt himself. A sob escaped me as the Doctor shuddered again. Rory was still examining the bite, but was hurrying and biting his lip as he did so.

"It's okay, love, it's okay," I murmured, stroking the Doctor's face. Rory finished his examination, getting an IV and inserting it smoothly into the Time Lord's arm.

"For the pain," he grunted, and got some things to clean the wound, "I think it's infected, that's causing his fever..."

I watched wordlessly as he cleaned and dressed the wound, my hands still resting on the Doctor's shoulder and face, hoping that, if he could feel me, that it would sooth him. The pain medication seemed to be working, because his muscles relaxed and his face smoothed.

"Now we just have to wait and see, but I'm going to keep running tests," Rory explained to Amy and I, and both of us girls let out long breaths and looked at each other.

"What... what do you think has happened?" Amy breathed, voicing my own thoughts.

"Dunno..." Rory wiped his forehead, looking sad, "The marks on his chest are half-healed, but obviously deliberate knife cuts. The bite, I don't really know... I took a sample, I'm testing it to look for genetic material from whatever bit him."

"Can we wake him?" I murmured.

"You can try, I haven't sedated him or anything," the nurse replied.

He stripped off his gloves and drew a soft blanket over the Doctor as I leaned over my husband. Then the Ponds hugged each other silently, withdrawing a ways from the bed. I stooped down, lightly brushing the Doctor's forehead with my lips, breathing in his scent. It amazed me how calm his face looked in sleep. Every line was smoothed, the usual swarm of emotions hidden along with his closed eyes.

"It's time for you to wake up, Doctor," I murmured, placing my hands on either side of his face, "Come on, open your eyes, please..." He didn't move, and my chest constricted. I reached out for his mind with mine, searching for a way for him to hear me.

Please open your eyes, love, come on, I need you...

Come on...

Come on...

Come on!

And at last I saw what I wanted to see, his eyelashes fluttering and his lips parting slightly as a sigh escaped them. I made a small sound of triumph, kissing his forehead again. He frowned slightly, then peeked one eye open at me.

"Hey, love," I murmured, smiling for the first time since our wedding day.

He opened his other eye, staring hard at me. Then he gasped, trying to sit up, but I held him still so he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Hero..." he breathed, letting me hold him. Amy and Rory rushed over, Rory checking all of the monitors as he did so.

"I'm here, Doctor, you're safe now. What – what happened? Can you remember?"

"What day is it?" he breathed, looking concerned, "What day? What day, tell me!"

"February 3rd, 2012," I replied, concern flooding through me as the Doctor's eyes darted back and forth between the three of us. "You've been gone three days, love."

"No, no..." he muttered, shutting his eyes, "No, I must have miscalculated..."

"What...?"

"Hero... Hero, I'm so so sorry, I was gone for so long, I forgot the exact day to come back, and... and I was delirious, I... I made a mistake..."

"Wait..." I felt cold as I looked down into his feverish, sad eyes, "How long have you... been gone?"

"Six weeks," he groaned, laying a trembling hand across his eyes, "I was gone for six weeks..."