Sarah Jane woke up alone in the middle of the big bed. She sat up, ran her fingers through her hair, then scrambled to the edge of the bed, climbed out and headed off in search of her companions.
"Good morning." Martha was the first to see her and so the first to greet her. She and the Doctor were at the table, Martha sitting sideways in her chair, facing the Doctor and the bedroom door. The water pitcher was on the table, a tumbler in front of the Doctor.
"Morning." Sarah returned the greeting. The Doctor turned to look up at her and gave her a welcoming smile. He was still pale, but the dark circles around his eyes had faded to what would be no more than normal for a human who'd had a rough, sleepless night. She started to lay her hand on his shoulder, then remembered and instead rested it on the back of his chair. "How are you?"
He pulled a quick, dismissive "meh" face, then gave her a knowing look. "Sleep well?"
"Extremely," Sarah answered, crossing behind him and sitting down. "I'll know who to call if I ever have insomnia."
Martha's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at them. The Doctor answered her unspoken question. "Sarah gave me a bit of an energy transfusion last night."
Martha's eyes grew wide. "Oh. Do you need more? I'd be happy to...."
The Doctor shook his head. "I'm fine now. Well." He pulled that "meh" face again as they both gave him skeptical looks. "Maybe not quite fine yet. But closer." He picked up his tumbler, peered into it and frowned, then reached out for the pitcher. He poured what little water was left into his tumbler and drank it.
Sarah picked up the empty pitcher, walked over to the kitchenette to fill it, then set it back on the table in front of him.
"He's had three already," Martha said, looking doubtful.
"Glasses?"
Martha shook her head. "Pitchers."
Sarah looked at the Doctor with eyebrows up. "Thirsty," he said succinctly as he poured himself another tumbler of water. Then she saw him shiver, a full-body shiver that made the water in his tumbler dance. The tremor passed and he carried on as if nothing had happened. Sarah glanced round the room and saw his long brown coat draped over the chair at the far end of the table where he'd last tossed it. She stood up and fetched it and draped it around his shoulders.
"What's that for?" he asked, looking up at her.
"You're shivering."
He frowned. "No, I'm not." Then he shivered again. Sarah and Martha both gave him pointed looks. "Oh. That?" Their pointed looks got a bit more pointed. "That's not shivering."
"So, what do Time Lords call it?"
"Shivering indicates you're cold. I"m not cold." He took the coat off and handed it back to Sarah. "I'm just a bit shakey. From being toxic."
Sarah frowned. "Toxic? He poisoned you?"
The Doctor gave her a reproving look. "Not that kind of toxic. Internally toxic."
"From what?" Martha asked.
"What did he do to you?" Sarah asked at the same time.
The Doctor took a few swallows of water, put the tumbler down, and stared at it as he reluctantly answered Martha's question. "I took a lot of cell damage. And the process of tearing down the damaged cells so they can be replaced with new healthy ones generates waste products. Which are making me toxic."
"Happens in humans, too. But I've never heard of anyone going toxic because of cell breakdown and repair," Martha said.
"Well." He crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and another bout of shivers ran through him. "Usually happens on a smaller scale. This was pretty extensive." He stopped, and looked bleak. "Comprehensive. No human could have survived it."
"Doctor, what did he do to you?" Sarah asked again, emphatically, frustration raising her voice.
The Doctor played with his tumbler, looking at it intently, avoiding her eyes. "He used a cellular disruptor on me," he finally said.
"What's that?" Martha asked.
"Why?" Sarah asked, horrified, at the same moment.
"Research," he said shortly, answering Sarah's question this time. He glanced up at them each in turn, quickly, then looked back at the tumbler.
Sarah couldn't believe he was going to leave it at that. She stared at him intently but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She looked at Martha, who just reflected her own bafflement and frustration back at her. Then she once again looked at the Doctor who, amazingly, astonishingly, seemed to have said all he planned to say about it.
Sarah wasn't having it. "You get carried back here, half dead, so badly damaged that you thought you'd regenerated, we're sick with worry about you all night, you admit that this...this...birdman that you trusted did this to you, and that's all you have to say? Research?"
"Sarah," he said, still not looking at her, his voice tired. "It's not what you think." He shivered again, and this time he didn't shrug it off but closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep, measured breaths.
"What do you think I think?"
He finally looked up at her with troubled eyes. "That he threatened the two of you to get me to cooperate with his experiments." She raised her eyebrows, and he gave her a faint smile. "I don't have to read your mind to know that. I remember Davros too." He shivered, took a moment to recover. "And I'm telling you, Rohstan is not Davros. Not even close."
"Davros?" Martha asked in a small, lost voice.
"Creator of the Daleks," Sarah answered shortly, still staring at the Doctor.
Martha's eyes went wide. "You met the creator of the Daleks?"
Sarah turned to the younger woman and nodded. "He used Harry and me to get to the Doctor. To make him do something he didn't want to do. Something that would put the entire future of the universe at risk." She looked back at the Doctor, then continued. "And he did it. To save us."
"It's not like that this time, Sarah," he said earnestly.
"Then what is it like?" she fired back. "Tell me."
Just then, the door opened and Rohstan strode in, black box and bundle of wires under his arm. Sarah stood up abruptly, moved to the far side of the table, sat down, leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, glared at Rohstan and heaved a deep, frustrated sigh.
"Doctor. You are up. I am sorry. I would have buzzed if I had known."
"That's fine, Rohstan," the Doctor assured him. "Please. Sit."
"But you are truly remarkable. To be so much improved. I am most satisfied with this." He put the black box on the table in front of the Doctor and started unwinding the wires.
The Doctor gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah, well. Told you I heal fast."
"Indeed you did. I did not sufficiently credit what you meant by 'fast'." He held up two of the wires, then bobbed a nod at the Doctor. "With your permission."
The Doctor shivered, then nodded. He bowed his head so Rohstan could stick the sensors to his temples, then sat forward on the chair and let his dressing gown fall off around his waist so the other sensors could be attached to his chest and back. Then both he and Rohstan focussed intently on the black box, the Doctor twisting dials with his long, slender fingers while Rohstan tapped keys with his talons.
"Sar..." He looked up, saw Sarah's stormy eyes shooting dark fire at Rohstan, and started over. "Martha, could you get my glasses for me?"
"Sure." Martha jumped up, fetched his glasses out of his jacket pocket, walked over and handed them to him.
"Thanks." He slipped them on and peered at the machine again. "Are the readings you took last night in here?" he asked, frowning with concentration.
"Yes. All of them," Rohstan said.
The Doctor gave him a surprised look. "You took more than one set?" Rohstan nodded. "Brilliant! Let me see them." They both bent over the contraption.
Martha walked back around the table and sat down next to Sarah. "Amazing how we disappear every time he walks into the room, isn't it?" Sarah said bitterly.
"Do you really think..." Martha said softly, glancing at Rohstan.
Sarah nodded. "Yes. I do. Why else would the Doctor let himself be forced into a regeneration he doesn't want or need or have to spare?"
Martha blinked, mulling that over. "Why wouldn't he tell us, though?" She glanced around suspiciously. "Do you think the room's bugged?"
Sarah shook her head. "No. I think he's trying to spare us the guilt. If it weren't for us, Rohstan wouldn't have any leverage over him. Couldn't force him to do this."
Martha frowned. "Never thought about that. God, we are a liability for him, aren't we."
"Fragile humans," Sarah answered. Martha gave her a quizzical look. "Something he said the other night. About being insane to take fragile creatures like us out into the universe."
They looked back over at the Doctor and Rohstan just in time to see the Time Lord shiver again. "Whoa, look at that!" the Doctor cried, fascinated, staring at the readout from his shiver on the machine.
Rohstan looked at him. "Is this a normal part of your healing? These tremors?"
The Doctor looked up from the black box. "Ah. No. Well. In a way." He screwed up his face, looking both hopeful and doubtful at the same time. "You wouldn't happen to have any ginger beer, would you?"
"Ginger beer?" Sarah said, surprised. The Doctor glanced over at her and gave her a quick nod.
"I am not aware of what this is, Doctor," Rohstan responded, ignoring Sarah. "If we have it, it is yours. Please describe it."
The Doctor rubbed his cheek. "It's a beverage. Flavored with a spice. Ginger. That's the spice."
"We have many different beverages and many different spices. I can bring you a selection to see if any resemble this....ginger beer."
The Doctor swallowed hard. "There isn't time for extensive taste testing, I'm afraid."
"Why do you need ginger beer?" Sarah asked, ignoring the fact that she was being ignored.
"To detox," he answered. Her eyebrows shot up. "Plenty of protein and salt here. And I could always rig up something to give myself a shock. But without ginger beer...." He trailed off, looking unhappy.
"Do you have any on the...oh, never mind," she said, remembering the time ship wasn't available.
He answered her anyway. "I always keep a good supply on board, yes." He turned to Rohstan. "Any word on my ship? Have they found her yet?"
Rohstan shook his head. "I fear the markers you put in the mudbank for them may have shifted. I was going to suggest we visit the site again to confirm its location before..." He bobbed his head at the Doctor, indicating his condition. "Once you are fully well again, we can plan to do that."
The Doctor sighed, then nodded. "That would be good, yes."
Sarah gave him a worried frown. "Do you absolutely need ginger beer to do this detox thing?"
He shivered. "No. Just makes it easier." He pulled the sensors off his temples, then removed the one from his throat. "I can manage without. It's just...well....it's not going to be pretty."
"What?" Sarah asked, feeling totally lost. From the look on Martha's face, she was equally at sea with where the conversation had gone.
"Detox," he answered briefly, pulling more sensors off. "Rohstan? I'm going to need a bunch of towels."
"But of course," Rohstan answered. "What color?"
The Doctor gave a small rueful chuckle. "Color doesn't matter. Just..big. And absorbent. And lots of them."
"I'll fetch them now," Rohstan said, suiting his actions to his words and exiting the apartment.
Sarah and Martha walked around the table to help the Doctor remove the rest of the sensors. They couldn't help noticing that the shivers were coming more frequently now and shaking him harder each time.
"Do Time Lords throw up?" Martha asked in a worried tone.
The Doctor looked at her, eyebrows up in surprise. "Only when absolutely necessary. Why?"
She frowned at him. "Because if I saw the look on your face on a human patient, I'd be running for a basin."
He shook his head. "It's the toxins in my system making me feel queasy. Nothing in my stomach. So nothing to throw up."
"That doesn't always stop us humans."
He gave her a puzzled look. "Yeah. I've noticed that. Why do you do that?"
Before she could answer, Rohstan returned with a pile of thick, soft towels. "Will this be enough?"
The Doctor looked at them dubiously. "Maybe."
"I can bring more."
The Doctor gave him a grateful look. "If it's no trouble. That many again should do."
Rohstan bobbed his head, set the towels on the table, and left again. Sarah picked them up. "So. Bedroom?"
He nodded glumly. "I suppose."
"You need help getting there?" He was looking shakier by the minute, losing ground he'd gained overnight.
He shook his head. "I'm fine." He shrugged back into his dressing gown, stood up, wavered a bit and started to tip forward.
Sarah was on the wrong side of him and had her arms full of towels. "Martha!" she cried.
Martha reacted quickly, stepping in front of the Doctor and putting her hands on his shoulders to brace him.
"Well." He leaned into her hands for a second. "Not entirely fine."
Sarah put the towels under one arm and slipped her other arm around his waist. "Come on, tiger. Let's get you better." Martha took up support position on the other side of him, and they started toward the bedroom.
He suddenly stopped. "Why don't you two wait out here?" he said, looking down at them queasily. "I can take care of this by myself."
They exchanged bewildered glances across the front of him. "Doctor. Why would we let you do that?"
He looked miserably at them. "I don't want to put you through this."
Sarah was still perplexed. "The detox?"
He nodded.
"Will it be easier for you if we help?"
He sighed, and didn't answer right away.
"OK, that's clearly a yes." He still stood, rooted to the spot. "Doctor," Sarah said gently. "If one of us had to do this, would you be there to help us through it?"
"Of course I would," he said instantly, sounding hurt and defensive. Then he pulled himself up and looked from one of them to the other. "Oh. I walked right into that, didn't I?"
"Sure did," Martha confirmed with a gentle smile.
He gave them each another long look. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
They started him moving toward the bedroom again. "We won't. Will we, Martha?" .
"Never," Martha agreed.
"We're good hens." Sarah said seriously.
The Doctor chuckled reluctantly. "Yes, you are. The best."
"Bauck," Sarah clucked, bending forward a fraction to catch Martha's eye.
"Bauck." Martha grinned and clucked back.
"Oh stop," he said. "Don't make me laugh."
"Bauck."
"Bauck."
He laughed helplessly through a bout of shivers and they baucked him into the bedroom.
