A:N: some slight humour and a lot of fluff... Always twelveclara related... Because there is never enough twelveclara in the world...

The trip from Clara's bedroom in the flat to her bedroom in the TARDIS was tiring for the Doctor, not just physically. Clara was trapped into the unending circle of hoarse coughs and painful wheezes. She constantly curled in the Doctor's hold as the companion coughed as softly as she could in her fist, before finally giving in, slumping her head against the Doctor's shoulder, leaning helplessly against his chest wheezing. And the cycle begins again. His eyes were watering seeing her in so much pain, but he wouldn't permit that Clara sees him cry. Good thing she was tired.

"How long has it been going?" As the Doctor laid her in her bed and propped her up, covered in a thin, soft blanket.

Clara looked puzzled.

"I... Don't know."

"Seriously Clara?"

The Doctor sounded annoyed... Even more annoyed than usual... Actually...

He soniced her.

"5 days and 12 hours from first infection, which makes it... Around 3 days in bed."

"Courtney..." She coughed for the umpeenth time. The Doctor looked puzzled. "I sent her home on Friday because she came to school with flu. Always rebellious." She soon felt something cold under her tongue.

"Don't. Talk." The Doctor went to grab some more medicines from medbay.

Clara pulled the quilts even closer. She was already in pain and she felt delirious. Now all she needed was a 2000 year old time lord to bark at her.

He soon came back with a cup of water and a box of pills.

"Give." And he slipped the thermometer out of her mouth.

He looked worriedly at the reading.

"Hmmmm. 39.5°C. Certainly a fever."

"Thank you Professor Clever." And rolled her eyes again.

"The more you talk, the more it hurts." Said the Doctor, placing it on the bedside table.

"Fine." Clara sulked.

"Here, take this." And he handed her a pill as soon as she took out her hand from under the sheets.

"Ibuprofen, works wonders on aches and fevers." Said the Doctor. "Hope this works on you too... Since you're so stubborn."

She popped it in her mouth without even taking cause of his words (would be useless to care, anyway) and the Doctor placed a cup of water to her lips, which she was going to take from his hands.

"No Clara. Leave it too me. You seriously thing you can hold anything when you have biting joints?"

Clara said nothing. She knew he was right.

But she saw his caring side. Even if he was still 45% grumpy, but he knew that that was his way of caring.

And she should know... He starts to insult others and becomes grumpy when he's stressed.

Wait... Why should he be stressed, anyway?

When she was ready...

"Feeling any better?" He said, a bit calmer.

"Not much, but just enough." She croaked.

"Good, good." The Time Lord said, delved in thought, rubbing his very very light stubble.

Clara began shivering suddenly.

"Chills..." Said the Doctor. "The sedative should soon kick in."

The companion looked at him with her large glazed pleading eyes.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed. "Why are you always doing it with the eyes?" His voice was louder than he thought it would.

Clara closed her eyes, sniffed and delved deeper under the quilts, praying to God that sleep would drown her, to release her both from the physical misery and the Doctor's comments. Her eyes closed shut, feeling a tear from her watery eyes slithering down as she thickly swallowed through her sore throat.

She soon felt a soft quilt being laid on top of her huddled form. The Doctor sat on the bed near her, laying down and wrapping his arms around his trembling companion, hugging her against him, trying to keep her warm. His hand gently brushed her cheek, drying it.

It felt surreal for both of them. They were getting ever closer (excluding the time lord's horrible temper... Nothing she could do to stop him from being so angry), but Clara never thought the Doctor would do such a thing. She tried to cuddle as close to him as possible making the least movement, longing for warmth, hoping it would end her misery.

"Thank you Doctor." Said Clara as she kept shivering, waiting for unconsciousness' merciful hand to put her to sleep.

The Doctor looked at her and smiled sadly as he smoothed her hair stuck to her forehead. He then tucked the sheets around her helpless form, cuddling her as much as possible.

"Sleep Clara."

Clara was breathing heavily from the fever, before she slipped into a deep sleep. The Doctor slipped away from her and exited the room to go and continue some TARDIS maintenance work.