Wow, again, thanks so much for the feedback! And thanks especially to Aqua Mage. I'm really sorry about the wait, exams and all that to deal with – finished them now though! Woohoo! (dances) I hope you enjoy this.

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It was several minutes before the Doctor's fever was brought down to a suitable level, all the while he just sat in the tub shivering, trying to smile at Rose and Jack as they scooped the cold water around his shoulders.

"I brought some towels," Jackie said, holding up a bunch of fluffy white bath towels sympathetically.

The Doctor nodded in thanks, allowing Jack to pull him out of the bath. "What did you put me in there for," he added, teeth chattering. His attempt at trying to lighten the mood was disrupted as another shiver racked his frame; he wrapped his arms around himself weakly, "S-silly humans."

Jack ignored him, "Come on, we need to get you out of those clothes. You're soaking."

"You mean I need to get me out of these clothes." The Doctor responded with a tired smile, not even having the energy to stand up properly as he leant heavily on Jack. He didn't know why he was saddened when Jack said nothing as the water seeped through his white shirt. He just held the Doctor securely, not even giving a jibe at having the Timelord practically falling on him. "And… I'm only soaking because you went and dumped me in the bathtub."

"Doctor." Jack started seriously, holding the Timelord up as his feet struggled to find purchase in the wet flooring, "Where did you put the Tardis keys?"

"I didn't put them anywhere…" The Doctor didn't feel up to any interrogation right now, it was taking all he had just do keep his eyes open, "ask Rose for hers…. She always has her key... always."

Rose pulled her mouth down in concern, taking a towel from Jackie and draping it over the Doctor's shoulders. He sagged almost instantly, as the heat infused his numb body. Jackie must have taken the liberty of warming the towels first. He sighed gratefully, eyes closing despite his best efforts. She could be so thoughtful sometimes, it almost unnerved him.

Jack shook his head; the Doctor could feel the motion as his head drooped heavily onto the other man's chest. "Rose doesn't have her keys Doctor, you hid them." He explained, trying to hide the worry from his voice, "Can you tell me where they are?"

"Nope," the Doctor frowned, a hand going up to his head suddenly with a wince, "At least, I don't remember hiding them – did I hide them?" His voice grew soft, and he knew he was asking himself more than he was asking anyone else.

Jack sighed frustratedly, rubbing the Doctor's shoulders with the towel to warm him back up. The Doctor frowned, they'd gone through all that trouble of cooling him down and now they were making him all warm again. Made no sense. "Think for a moment." Jack continued, "If you were an absolutely insane Timelord, and your friends were desperately trying to help you, where would you hide the keys to the only thing that could make you better?"

"I'm not insane." At least, I don't think I am, he thought, a cold feeling that had nothing to do with the fact he was soaking through creeping its way into his stomach. Maybe he was. He couldn't remember where he'd hidden the keys or even that he'd hidden them at all, surely that couldn't be a good sign.

He looked up into Jack's concerned eyes with fear clouding in his own. Come to think of it, he didn't remember getting into the bathtub, or anything since he'd passed out in Jack's arms on what must have been yesterday night. Was he losing his mind?

"Doc?" He snapped his eyes up, not realising they'd drifted closed and he'd started shivering again. "Come on," the American said kindly, "It doesn't matter about the keys for now."

The Doctor shook his head, eyes lowered, "It does Jack. I'm getting worse." A sudden idea sparked through his cranium and he extracted himself from Jack's arms carefully, balancing against the sink. "I want to try something, but maybe we should get to Rose's bedroom first."

"Woah Doc, I never thought I'd say no to you, but I don't think you'll be up to it."

He laughed, it felt good to laugh, "Not that."

"Oh," Jack said disappointedly, "what then?"

…

Ten minutes later they were seated on Rose's bed, the Doctor having changed into a new pair of cotton pyjamas and now pondering where on earth Jackie got them all from. They couldn't all be Howard's could they? Maybe he'd stumbled upon a secret Jackie Tyler fetish… Some things were best left unknown.

The Doctor sat forward, against the softness of the duvet and the warmth of the pyjamas (again with how thoughtful Jackie was, he couldn't look that bad) he was beginning to feel incredibly sleepy. His dark eyes gazed sadly at his hands. With the way things were going there was no doubt that he needed the Tardis' help, he just wasn't about to go into his ship to get it for himself. She was too stubborn not to try and take this virus – whatever it was - back. Stubborn loyal old thing.

Not for the first time he wondered if taking this virus was the right thing to do, from the look on Jack and Rose's faces they obviously thought he was crazy. They were angry with him too. Angry because he hadn't told them what was wrong with the Tardis, angry for taking the virus, angry because for once he had no control over the situation and they were left on there own… and angry because he couldn't remember where he'd hidden the damn Tardis keys!

They had a right to be angry.

He smiled to himself, what were companions for anyway? At least, he had an idea for finding the keys - that had to count towards something. "Right," the Doctor started, "I want you to do something for me."

Jack raised an eyebrow at him from across the bed, inching closer. The Timelord breathed out methodically, reaching out and placing his pale fingers at the sides of Jack's forehead, eyes slipping closed.

"… What're you doing?" Jack inquired, "as much as I like having my forehead fondled by an ill alien… What the… Doc, you're in my head!"

"Hello." The Doctor said with a small smile. Inside his mind Jack could almost see him wave. "Now Jack, just because I can't remember where I've put the keys doesn't mean the memory isn't inside my head. All I need you to do is search my memories."

"Oh," Jack snorted, eyes closed and sarcasm evident, "Is that all?"

"See that door?"

Jack's mind was a cloudy haze, but he thought he could see a large rectangle of light just in front of him. "You mean that big glowing hole? Then yes."

"Step through it."

Jack did so, taking a breath as he hesitantly stepped into the light. He would have squinted his eyes against the harsh intensity of it, but remembered they were already closed - a weird sensation, if ever there was one. Then he was through… and almost immediately the pain hit. A sharp stabbing through his head caused him to double over - It was agony, so much agony. The Doctor felt this? He cried out, trying to resist the urge to fold in on himself.

"Jack!" and then suddenly, just as quickly as it had come, the pain was gone. Jack opened his eyes in surprise, to find himself still on the bed, bent over and gasping like he was doing a particularly good impression of a fish out of water. He blinked. The Doctor's hands were on his shoulders, trying to calm him. If possible, he looked even worse than before. "Jack, I'm sorry." The Timelord said quickly, eyes moist, "I didn't even think about you feeling it - it was a stupid thing to try."

Jack shook his head exasperatedly, "Let me back in, I wasn't finished."

"What?" the Doctor flinched as Jack snatched his fingers back up and positioned them on his forehead again.

The darkness came, and the door. He was ready this time as he stepped through, but the pain still clawed into his head and he didn't manage to stifle a gasp. "Sorry." He heard the Doctor whisper.

How exactly was he supposed to find something in the Doctor's mind anyway? No offense to him, but this place wasn't exactly orderly. There were objects, so many different things that Jack couldn't focus on any one at a time. He walked forwards, catching snatches of voices in the air; murmurs and singing and laughing and crying. A sudden flash of images. Was that a banana daiquiri? A smell of burning, smoke, exhaust fumes? Talking cats? It was giving him a headache, and he'd only just managed to get over the shooting pains.

"I don't know how to look." He said, squinting into the dark.

Another feeling brushed over him, different this time. Lonely. So very alone, my lonely angel. Without a home. Lost. Another layer of voices swept into his head, sad voices this time – goodbyes, and a deep aching when there hadn't been time for goodbyes. He felt tears prick at his eyes.

The Doctor let out a breath, and Jack could feel it on his cheek, so far away, "You're looking in the wrong place. Here."

And then Jack was looking in. Or should he say out. Looking out of the Doctor's eyes as he spun two sets of Tardis keys around his finger. It was the Tyler's kitchen, he could discern that much, but everything was layered in grey fuzz. He felt himself, as the Doctor, put a hand against his head as a dull throbbing erupted from it. Then a cupboard door was opening and a jar of – what was that? He squinted at the label. "In the jar of marmalade? Oh Doc, that's gross."

"Last place you'd look though," said the Doctor gasping slightly, "clever old me."

"Clever old you." Sure enough the Doctors fingers prodded the two keys into the jar, screwing the lid shut tight and shoving it back into the cupboard. He just managed to close the cupboard door before his knees collapsed from under him. Another wave of pain, and Jack gritted his teeth, "Ow, let me out already… How do you stand it?" he gasped out. The scene dissolved from his sight as the Doctor withdrew his fingers an apologetic frown on his face.

"Sorry Jack." He said quietly.

The ex-time agent took a moment to get his breath back, the absence of pain so relieving he didn't want to move. The room swam back into focus, as did the Doctor, paler, and even more tired looking than before. "I'll get the jar…" was all Jack could think to say. He didn't know how to bring up the loneliness he'd felt while he was inside the Doctor's head. Maybe he shouldn't mention it at all. The Doctor blinked darkened eyes at him in thanks, as he headed out of the door.

Now, what was the best way of getting marmalade off keys..?

…

"Mmmfmm…" the Doctor mumbled, blinking exhaustedly as he woke. He frowned in surprise at his surroundings, finding himself slumped out on the living room sofa under a heap of blankets and pillows wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He didn't fall asleep here did he? No. No - He was on the bed in Rose's room with Jack and then… something about a jar? He frowned, remembering. Jack had gone to get the Tardis keys, which the Doctor had wittily hidden in a jar of marmalade. A stroke of genius on his part, he had to admit.

He groaned slightly, rubbing his face with the heel of his hand as the headache that had plagued him came back full throttle. It didn't explain the move to the sofa though.

Rassilon, he was so tired.

He knew that this wasn't right, that he'd only just woken and shouldn't be feeling the need to sleep for another week at least – he was a Timelord after all. But the comforting realms of sleep were already lapping over his head. Like a soothing cool wave. The pillows were so soft under his head, he could just sink down…. sink…

Rose blew on her cup of coffee before taking a sip. Gazing over at the Doctor as his eyes slipped closed again. He'd seemed pretty out of it when they helped him to the sofa. Insisting he be in the living room, because Rose's bed was too lumpy. Or something like that. Jackie had mothered him adequately, ensuring he had enough quilts to line the entire Tardis with, and he'd been in and out of consciousness ever since.

She sat on the edge of the sofa and gazed at the odd blue box next to the television, she couldn't help but fine herself wondering if they'd ever travel again. Jack was in there now, tinkering away most likely, trying to find something that could help the Doctor. She crossed her fingers before taking another sip of coffee.

"You know, I don't think he's ever gonna move that bleedin' ship of his." Jackie grumbled, nursing her own mug of brown stuff and slumping down on the chair opposite, "and Howard's comin' round today and all."

"What?" Rose's eyes snapped up at that, "Howard can't come round mum! Have you seen the Doctor lately?"

A muffled "I'm fine." erupted from the mound of duvet covers on the sofa.

Jackie turned to the sofa with a half frown. Well the Doctor seemed coherent at least, it was a bit of an improvement. "Hmm, anyone with 'alf a brain can see you're not fine. I ought to Ring Howard…"

The covers parted slightly, and Rose could see the scruffy brown hair of the Doctor emerge over the mound. "No." came the not so muffled reply, "I'd like to meet him… anyone who can put up with you for an extended amount of time must be really brave."

She would have batted him had he not looked so ill. As it was he could hardly breathe properly, and was currently trying to lift a heavy arm and push back the covers that formed a cushioned barrier between his lungs and the oxygen. Jackie watched him struggle for a moment with frustrated eyes, before she tugged the bloody duvet back herself.

The Doctor sighed in relief, gave her a groggy smile and then went limp. Head falling back with a muffled thump against the sofa arm. "I think he just fainted love." Jackie called over her shoulder.

"Not again." Rose said concern moistening her eyes. She hurried over to the motionless Timelord, hand at the ready to take his temperature. "He doesn't feel that hot… Doctor? Come on, it's me. Wake up."

The Doctor opened his dark eyes blearily, squinting up into her face, "Sarah?" he murmured hesitantly.

Rose fought to keep the sadness out of her voice. Not again, please not again. "No, it's Rose remember?"

"Rose… How could I forget." He continued sleepily, eyes closing and head slumping heavily backwards.

"No Doctor, don't go to sleep! Please, come on just stay with me for a little longer."

Jackie looked at her daughter, sympathy evident in her over eyelinered eyes, "It's not gonna work love, he's out for the count. You can let him sleep can't you?"

She didn't know whether letting him sleep was such a good thing after all. Every time he woke he became a little less coherent, he took longer and longer to remember where he was - who he was. It scared her more than anything else that one time when he woke he might not remember anything at all. He might not remember her. Rose extracted the Doctor's hand from beneath the duvet and clutched it in both of hers, "Remember when we met?"

"No."

He'd sounded so honest, it hurt. She carried on, ignoring her mother as she tried to dissuade her, "Yeah you do, in the shop remember? With those crazy shop window dummies. You saved me from them, from here. Then I saved you."

"You saved me." He breathed for a moment, before giving her hand a comforting squeeze, "I remember," he said, "'course I do."

She smiled, eyes glittering. "Jack should be back soon, he'll make you all better. You've just got to keep awake for a little longer alright?"

"Easier said than…" the Doctor clenched his eyes shut tighter suddenly, hand squeezing hers rigidly, "Rose? I – I think I'm going to be sick."

Rose's eyes widened, but before she could think of what to do the Doctor had shoved back the mountain of blankets and stood up. He teetered forward, between Jackie's shout of "don't you dare let him throw up on my carpet!" and the Doctor's untimely descent to the ground, Rose only just managed to catch him.

He breathed raggedly, forcing the air into his chest as he tried his best to fight an overwhelming feeling of nausea. The room spun dizzily, and he grasped onto Rose because to him she was the only thing in the room that was still.

Breathe in. Out. Breathe in, then out.

Rose rubbed his back soothingly as they sat together on the floor, the Doctor panting and resting his head in the crook of her shoulder, his fingers grasping at hers. His breathing began to slow after a while, and she held him, murmuring soothing words and smoothing his hair back from his hot forehead as her t-shirt front began to get suspiciously wet.

The Doctor never cried, she reminded herself, and he wasn't crying now.

"Feel better?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor laughed a little, squeezing his eyes shut at the stabbing pain it sent through his chest, "I feel awful."

Of course he felt awful. And there was nothing any of them could do about it. She put her arms around him comfortingly, rubbing little circles on his back as he burrowed his head into her shoulder, "Still feel sick?"

"No." He exhaled shakily, "Rose... I…" he shook his head a little, hugging her back, "thank you."

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