A/N: I love banoffee pie. I need more of it in my life.


Chapter 12 - Banoffee Pie

The Doctor's consciousness was sporadic over the next few days, but the times he was awake he seemed perfectly coherent. It surprised Martha, who after consulting the MRI scans of his head was convinced he should have been in a coma.

"The trauma to the left side of his head is massive," she told Jack and Donna in the Doctor's room two days later. "I don't even know how he's so alert."

"Time Lord," Jack reasoned.

"It's ridiculous," Martha insisted. "No living thing should be able to tolerate that sort of head trauma and wake up like everything's perfectly fine. But apart from the dyspraxia and obvious language difficulties, he's completely normal."

"Attitude and everything," Donna mused, looking at the Doctor.

Martha followed her gaze to the Doctor, who was looking at them with those familiar brown eyes with an intense look, like he was getting annoyed at them ignoring him. She immediately felt a little guilty, and held up the MRI of his own head to him.

He stared for a moment, before moaning slightly and raising a careful hand to his head. It was still heavily bandaged. Martha had managed to take off his neck collar as it seemed to have healed in the coma, and reduced the size of his casts. His broken bones were well on the way to healing, but his head had only just been allowed to start. She was under no illusions. It might take a while until they heard him speak English again.

"Ei'cha'afa'wi-alok," he muttered, looking pained.

"I think he said it hurts," Donna muttered.


The Doctor's head really hurt, and now he knew why. He could feel that it had been bandaged heavily - the only logical deduction being that he must have had some sort of brain surgery. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad that he'd had a bunch of humans rooting around inside his skull - but they hadn't seemed to have done anything too drastic and it must have been Martha who'd assisted with the surgery. He trusted her.

Thanks to the morphine, the other parts of his body seemed to be at a manageable pain rate. His neck seemed to be fine to move now and his fingers were healed too. He just wanted to get up.

"Get me up," he said to the three, trying to sit up.

They moved to him immediately, instinctively getting what he wanted to do. As though it had already been rehearsed, Martha fetched a wheelchair as Donna got him a dressing gown and Jack moved to do the supporting work. Donna slipped his healthy arm into the gown and left the other side draping over the shoulder of his injured arm, and did it up around his stomach to keep it in place. With Jack's help he managed to turn so his legs were over the side of the bed, and, gripping onto Jack as though his life depended on it, he moved to stand up.

I haven't stood up for weeks.

The realisation hit him and immediately his left leg gave way at the pure shock of what he'd just thought. Luckily Jack was there to keep him upright until his left leg decided it was okay to be doing this, and obediently took his weight.

With Jack's continued help he shuffled to the wheelchair, and finally dropped down into it, exhausted.


"Where are we going?" Jack finally said, taking the handles of the wheelchair.

Donna looked at the Doctor. "Hungry?" she asked, making the gesture for food.

He nodded.

"Café it is," Donna concluded.


As they made their way to the café they passed a lot of UNIT members, all of whom saw the Doctor and gave him a cheery greeting and a wave. Jack watched, bemused as he waved back, clearly a bit confused and unused to such excessive attention.

When they reached the café it was 1pm, so it was filled with UNIT members, patients and some visitors. The moment the group entered everyone stopped to look at them, aiming smiles and waves in their direction. Some came up to wish the Doctor well, to which he just nodded and waved some more, all the while giving the group he was with pleading looks to make the attention stop. They couldn't do anything about it, but after the initial ruckus everyone returned to their seats and resumed their conversations.

Things almost felt normal as the four sat at a table in the café, and Donna was nominated to go and get the drinks.

"What does everyone want?" she asked.

"Coffee, please," Jack said.

"Tea and some chocolate cake," Martha told her.

They all looked expectantly at the Doctor who was staring out of the window, by instinct waiting for him to reply. As soon as he looked back at them with a blank look, they all simultaneously realised their mistake.

"Oh, I'll figure him out," Donna said, and left to the counter.

Martha took the Doctor's hand. "Okay?" she asked, giving the sign for okay to him. He nodded. "Hurting?" she asked, making the appropriate gesture. He shook his head.

Martha looked back at Jack, who was just gazing at the Doctor. "So how long until he's okay d'you reckon?" Jack asked.

"There's no way of telling," Martha said. "He's a fast healer, but the trauma to his head would have killed a human… Well, you know. I get the feeling it's going to be a while either way."

Suddenly there was a crash from across the room and everyone looked up at an erupting argument, tea and coffee all over the floor.

"Just who do you think you are!?" yelled Donna Noble at a random person, her shirt covered in cake. "I'm standing right here I mean, are you blind!?"

"I'll get that," Jack said quickly, getting up to go over to defuse the situation.

Martha looked back at the Doctor, who was laughing.

"Folari'Klayya," he said, grinning and pointing at Donna.

She nodded with a return smile, despite not understanding what it meant. But she could have a good guess. They both watched as Jack interrupted the increasingly heated debate about rights of way.

Suddenly a tall dark figure stepped in the way of their view.

"Good afternoon," came a deep voice, and both Martha and the Doctor looked up to meet the smiling face of Doctor Stein.

Martha gritted her teeth, glancing at the Doctor who was looking between her and Stein. His hand flexed in her grip, which she only just realised she'd tightened considerably at the sight of Stein. She didn't relent it.

"Afternoon," she responded, her jaw tightened.

"How is… he?" Stein asked, gazing at the Doctor.

"He's fine."

"... Does he talk?"

"Yes," Martha replied. She noticed how Stein seemed to just be staring at the Doctor.

"Jarbai, po'afa'wi-looi bula ei," the Doctor muttered, glancing between her and Stein. She could tell that even without the words to express it he was feeling the tension.

She squeezed his hand, and looked back at Stein. "Sorry, did you want anything, Doctor Stein?" she asked thinly.

"I just came to see the fabled Doctor, awake at last," Stein insisted. "Perhaps when he stops speaking alien we can have a proper conversation."

"He's speaking his native tongue because he has brain damage," Martha insisted. "Brain damage not treated properly until he came here. Normally he can speak every language in the universe."

"Hmm," was all Stein said, clearly not caring. "No, I think the Doctor and I are going to get very well acquainted soon enough," he said, moving around to the Doctor's side, coming from behind. He took one of the Time Lord's shoulders in each hand. Martha stood up immediately like a Jack-in-a-Box, but Stein completely ignored her, leaning to the Doctor to whisper something in his ear. Then, as quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone.

Martha looked at the Doctor. "What did he say? Repeat it to me," she said quickly, making a gesture.

"N-ei'lei-o'manai," the Doctor told her, looking confused.

She considered going after Stein, but quickly decided not to, dropping back down into her seat. "Sorry," she muttered to the Doctor. Somehow it didn't even matter that he didn't understand. Her apology was so deep and heavy and meant with such broadness that saying that one word out loud didn't cover everything she felt.

For a moment, there was only silence until she looked back at him. He looked so strange and distant, just staring at her, reading her. Strange and distant, yes, but so weirdly familiar at the same time. It was so easy to think that just because he couldn't communicate and talk his head off like he used to that somehow he wasn't the same person.

He'd changed. Of course he'd changed. The Year That Never Was was still a very potent memory. Time had passed, but not enough by her standards. She had heard snippets of what had happened to the people on the Valiant for the duration of that year, and didn't want to hear anymore. And as the Master's arch nemesis...

God, it sounds like some superhero movie.

As the Master's arch nemesis she could only dread to think what particular treatment he'd received. But there was one thing she hadn't told Jack and Donna. The scans revealed more than his fresh wounds. The Doctor would have already figured that out.

His silence seemed to speak a thousand words. When he could talk he would be talking just for the sake of talking; talking at everyone so fast that they didn't have time to stop and wonder about him. Maybe he was traumatised. Just so well hidden that no one could see.

She had to consider it. With everything that had happened, with the Year, with the treatment in the hands of the army doctors - any normal person would be chewing rubber wallpaper by now. He could be damaged - when he had told her about the Time War with tears in his eyes she could really see the human in him then. But maybe he wasn't traumatised. Maybe he was too alien. Maybe she just desperately wanted him to be, just so he could conform to the human mould. She'd been a lot more protective of him since he'd crashed outside Downing Street.

But maybe that's normal?

For once, he was in her world. And her world was dangerous to him. Maybe he did need protecting.

"Look," she began, taking his hand in both of hers, gazing into his eyes. "I know you can't understand me but I'm really glad you're here."

"Ei'afa'rexola'eon'afa vivi, naqu," was all he said, offering a weak smile.

She nodded, just as Donna and Jack returned.

"Bloody idiot!" were Donna's first words as she put a tray of tea and coffee in the centre of the table. "Just walked right into me!"

"Donna, he said sorry!" Jack insisted.

"It's not like I bloody brought clothes with me!" she harrumphed. "I've been wearing lost property for days! And you don't wanna know about the state of my…"

"No, we don't," Martha interrupted smoothly, laughing.

"Then why don't you go shopping!" Jack suggested.

"Oh, bloody great idea, shall I start at the TK Maxx beside the hospital shop?" she asked insincerely.

"They'll fly you Glasgow," Martha told her patiently.

"And you've got enough money," Jack added.

There was suddenly a loud throat clearance from the Doctor, who was staring intently at the tray of refreshments. It quickly brought Donna to her senses.

"Oh, sorry," she said, giving him a polystyrene cup with tea in it and a slice of banoffee pie on a plate with a tiny plastic spoon. "There you go."


The Doctor was well aware they were now all staring at him as he reached forward to pick up the spoon with his good hand. He struggled to coordinate his movement, his hand seemingly wanting to go in the opposite direction to his intentions. Jack reached forward, obviously to help, but the Doctor quickly stopped him.

"I can do it," he said without thinking, and tried again. He managed to grip the spoon in his fist like a child learning to use cutlery, and stabbed it into the pie. The plastic spoon immediately snapped in two with the force.

He looked back up at the others, holding half the spoon. For a moment they conferred, then Martha held a finger in the air to indicate he should wait, quickly running off.

The Doctor sighed, dropping the half-spoon and putting his head in his hand. "This is bad," he moaned.

He felt Jack rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, before saying something softly to him.

"You just tried to reassure me, didn't you," the Doctor supposed. "This is bad, Jack. I shouldn't be this hurt."


The Doctor's sentences were increasing in length, which made them even harder to understand, but he was clearly agitated.

"It's okay," Jack assured him. "It's okay to be sick."

"Ei'i-o'shil," the Doctor told them. "Miho'lei'ei'wi-saral'eon'wrea? Kryx'afa'krask'eon-n. Miho'i'ei'wi-saral'eon? Ei'cha'wi-alok-ia, Rolas."

It was clear it was a series of questions which he wasn't looking for the answer to.

"He's not happy," Donna muttered.

Jack paused for a moment, gazing at the dejected Time Lord. "Maybe we should teach him some words."

"Good idea," Donna said, and drew the Doctor's attention. "Hello," she said, waving at him.

Jack snorted at the Time Lord's befuddled expression. "Repeat," he said, gesturing to the Time Lord before pointing at Donna.

"Hello," Donna prompted, waving.

The Doctor raised his hand with a furrowed brow. "Hailo," he mimicked, waving.

"Hello!" Donna said again positively.

"Hello," he repeated with a strange, heavy accent that sounded like a strange combination of Swedish, Australian and something else unidentifiable.

"That's it," Donna said, thumbs-up. She gestured eating next. "Eat."

"Eht… eat."

"Drink."

"Jink."

"No," Donna said, shaking her head. "Drink. Dr-ink."

"Dr-ink. Drienk."

"Good enough," Jack said.

"What's happening?" Martha asked as she returned.

"We're teaching him some words," Jack told her.

"Well go easy," Martha said, handing the Doctor a big metal spoon.

Donna looked at the Doctor, distracting him from his pie. "Say hello to Martha?"

He looked confused for a moment, but eventually got what she meant and raised his hand to Martha. "Hailo," he said with that thick accent, frowning. He clearly knew what he said had been wrong.

"Hello," Donna repeated patiently.

"... Hello."

Martha smiled back at him and returned the wave. "Hello, Doctor."

"Oh, there's a good one," Donna said. She pointed at him. "Doctor."

"Doh-tar," he attempted to repeat. "Dodtar. Doiktor. Doiktar."

"Good. How about… Donna?"


This was even more embarrassing that not being able to eat properly. Usually he could pick up a language extremely quickly, but not now. His brain was so compromised it was taking ages to learn anything Donna was teaching him. He'd already forgotten half the words. But it was probably a good thing that she was trying to teach him.

She pointed at herself, and said another word. Her name? He attempted to repeat it, but the syllables didn't seem to come out right. English really did have strange mouth movements that weren't present in Gallifreyan, and much simpler sounds. He tried again, then she said it again, until he got somewhere close.


"Dohna," the Doctor said, obviously a bit frustrated.

"That's close enough," Donna said, giving him a thumbs up.

"Jack," Jack tried next, pointing at himself.

"... Jaoka. Jaike."

"That'll do, I'm happy with that," Jack said, shrugging, nonchalant.

"Martha," Martha tried next.

"Morta…"

"Martha."

"Maifa. Mafa."

"Martha," she repeated patiently.

It was clear he was getting frustrated again. "Mafa. Mafa."

Martha nodded, her thumbs up. "It's as good as we'll get," she said, smiling.

"Dohna, Jaike, Mafa," the Doctor repeated, looking at each of them in turn.

"You've got it!" Martha enthused, smiling and nodding at him.


The Doctor sighed, and gripped his spoon. Great. All he had to do now was ask them how to say 'impending genocide' and everything would be fantastic.

He stabbed the spoon into the banoffee pie. It made a loud clang, but at least it didn't break. Highly aware they were all staring at him, he methodically and with the highest concentration he could manage, sliced into the pie and finally got a bit in his mouth. Well, near enough.


After lunch was done and his mess was cleaned up they took him back to his room through the obligatory plethora of UNIT members waving at him. As soon as they reached it he quickly stopped the wheelchair with his hand. Martha immediately knelt in front of him, clearly concerned.

"Toilet," he said, pointing at the sign.

They seemed to get it. Jack suddenly took control, and the Doctor suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

"No… nurse!" the Doctor insisted. "I want a nurse!"


The Doctor had suddenly got very tense. Three guesses why.

"Geez, I ain't gonna hold it for you," Jack insisted, pulling the door closed behind them. "Unless you want me to. Perfectly happy to. I mean, you're not too good with your hands. Might be safer - y'know, hit the target."

The Doctor shot him a look that could burn. Obviously he'd easily figured out what Jack was saying.

Jack just grinned, pulling down the seat and helping the Time Lord transfer from the wheelchair to the seat. There was a brief pause. "C'mon then, or have I gotta pull down your pants too?"

"Koshka'qe," the Doctor grated. Jack knew what that meant.

Stop it.

Jack grinned some more. "Okay, I'm turning around," he said, and diligently turned away. Silence ensued, apart from some shuffling.

Seconds passed.

"I don't hear much peeing action going on," Jack finally said, breaking the silence. The Doctor didn't reply. "You're not a nervous pee-er, are you? That'd be a twist. Though I've literally never heard you say you need a toilet break."

"Jaike!" the Doctor snapped behind him.

Jack's eyes widened. "Hey, you said my name!" he realised, and instinctively nearly turned around. He managed to stop himself mid-step, and made a casual position readjustment out of it.

Then the silence returned.

Jack wasn't all that comfortable with the silence of the Doctor. He could admit to himself that he was talking to fill in the Doctor's silences. He associated the Doctor with noise, and now there was none. Even on the Valiant, the Doctor had talked. Albeit, briefly, but that had been very different to this.

Jack just wasn't comfortable with his silence.

"... Would it help if I talked about waterfalls?"

"Jaike!"

"Okay, sorry…"


Martha and Donna waited outside patiently. Jack seemed to be doing a lot of talking.

Two minutes passed. Jack was still talking.

"Is he all right in there?" Martha suddenly asked, knocking lightly on the door.

"I think he's nervous," Jack replied through the door.

"Well I would be too if I was trying to wee and there was someone standing in front of me talking," Donna said seriously, rolling her eyes.

"Not to mention the two people listening outside the door," Martha added seriously. "Jack, out. Leave him alone."

Moments later the door opened and Jack exited, closing the door behind him.

They waited. Finally the appropriate sound came out the door.

Suddenly the Doctor cried out in pain.

"Doctor!" Martha shouted, diving for the door… But she suddenly stopped.

He cried out again.

"Martha?" Donna asked anxiously. Why was Martha just standing there?

"... Has he been to the toilet since he woke up?" Martha asked them quickly.

"What?" Donna asked, stunned. "Help him!" She moved to the door, but Martha prevented her.

"They took his catheter out a couple of days ago."

The Doctor evoked another gasp of pain and a string of alien words came pouring out behind the door.

"Oh," Jack realised, wincing.

"So?" Donna asked seriously, quite annoyed now.

"So it's going to hurt."

"... Oh," Donna realised dimly. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Oh god, that's so wrong," she ended up saying.

"Jaike!" the Doctor suddenly called out. "Sarr!"

Jack shot a look to the others, and went back inside the toilet.

"Oh geez," came Jack's voice. "Look, just relax…"

"Qe'wi-plakk-ia! Jaike, ei'riii y eon'bainn'ei'krass'eon-n!"

"Let me help…"

"Tera qe'wi-plakk!"

"I get it, it hurts, look, just finish what you're doing… Just piss! You know! Whoosh!"

Donna got the distinct impression that he was making some sort of inappropriate gesture.

"N-leii'eon holl'ei'jertt!?" the Doctor shrieked.

"Wee! Urinate! Just get it out."

"Ei'wi-ann'eon!"

"Y'know," Donna mused. "I think I'm getting what he's saying now."

"Graxtchalekatt!" the Doctor screamed.

"I think he just swore," Martha muttered.

Donna looked at her, surprised. "You're getting it too?"

Suddenly it went quiet, before there came the sounding of gasping.

"Shit!" Jack swore.

"Jack?" Martha asked quickly, her eyes wide.

"Martha, get in here!"

Without hesitation Martha dived through the door and slammed it shut behind her, leaving Donna alone in the room, confused.

"What's happening?" she shouted through the door.

"Get him to the bed," Martha suddenly said, and Donna nearly got the door slammed in her face as Jack came back out again, carrying the Doctor who was gasping for air, his hand clutched to the left side of his chest and his face creased in pain. "Doctor!"

Jack quickly got him to the bed, adjusting the head as Martha retrieved the oxygen mask. The Doctor took it quickly, breathing in deeply.

"Keep breathing, calmly and evenly," Martha said to the Time Lord, not that he could understand her but he was doing it anyway.

"What's going on!?" Donna yelled, thoroughly annoyed now.

"He's having a heart attack," Martha answered, pulling out her stethoscope.

"What!?"

Martha ignored her again, but suddenly Donna was fine with that. The Doctor was having a heart attack. Donna felt compelled to step back and just let her do her job as Martha kept a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, breathing in sync with him for a few moments before his brow unfurrowed and he opened his eyes.

Martha quickly checked his right heart with her stethoscope, then moved it across to his left heart. She gave him a thumbs up and he nodded, still taking deep, measured breaths from the mask.

"We're okay, it's beating again," Martha said, squeezing the Doctor's shoulder reassuringly.

"What caused it?" Jack asked.

Martha mused for a moment. "The poison."

"He's still poisoned?" Donna asked, confused.

"No, the poison's out of his system. It must have done more damage to his left heart than we thought and the stress and pain might've caused it to spasm and stop. I need to rescan and check it's not a degradation."

"Oh god," Donna muttered.

"We'll sort this," Martha assured her. "In the meantime, no more excursions. He rests for a few days until we figure this out."