Jack was up and down half the night with an upset stomach. After the third time he got up, the Doctor went to the med-bay to get him medicine for his stomach. It didn't work though and Jack ended up spending most of the next hour in front of the toilet on his knees. The Doctor apologized profusely, promising the next time Jack could take medicine that they would try another until he found one that actually helped his stomach. Jack grumbled at him in his misery, but surprisingly he didn't blame the Doctor for feeling sick. Especially because the Doctor sat by his side, rubbing his back and comforting him as his stomach tried to reject everything he had ever eaten. Around three in the morning, the Doctor fell asleep from his own exhaustion, leaving Jack awake and miserable on his own. He just wanted to slip back into the peace that sleep had provided him, but he couldn't.
"Sorry," The Doctor apologized as he woke up an hour later. He was laying on the floor of the loo with his head against Jack. Jack was still hugging the toilet, his eyes red and tears staining his face in his misery. He wasn't even sure when he began to cry, he just knew that he couldn't stand nine months of this. The Doctor pulled himself up off the floor, kissing Jack on the top of the head. "I'll be right back," he promised.
"I'm not going anywhere," Jack groaned. The Doctor hurried out of the room and to the medi-bay. Going to the medicine cabinet, he found one of the medications already sitting on the table beside it.
"Thank you old girl." The Doctor rubbed the wall affectionately and she hummed at him. Taking the medication and a syringe back to Jack, he injected it into Jack's arm. Jack barely noticed as held on tightly to the toilet. He did notice its effect though as his stomach finally settled. He didn't move right away, afraid that if he did it would set his stomach off again. Yet as his stomach continued to stay settled, he found himself yawning.
"I want to try to go to bed," Jack told the Doctor finally. The Doctor stood first, offering a hand to Jack. Jack took his hand, pulling his tired, sore body off the floor. His legs felt numb as he limped his way to their bed. Climbing under the blankets, he curled around a pillow holding it tight. The Doctor climbed into the bed behind him, holding him close. Together they finally fell into a peaceful sleep. It was only a few hours later though that a ringing phone disturbed the Doctor's sleep. Groaning he leaned over Jack, picking his phone up off of the bedside table. Jack buried his head further not waking fully at the sound of the phone ringing. The Doctor answered it before it woke him.
"Hello?" The Doctor answered the phone.
"Is Jack there?" Gwen asked her tone snippy. The Doctor leaned back against his pillow.
"He is sleeping," The Doctor told her with a yawn.
"Can you wake him?" Gwen wondered. The rift alarm was going off and while it was possible for them to retrieve the artifact themselves it was near a weevil den. Jack was the only one who could go in and come out safely.
"He was up half the night sick. I'm not waking him," The Doctor informed her. He looked over at Jack. Jack's hair needed to be washed again from sweating. The Doctor gently ran his fingers through it anyways.
"Jack doesn't get sick," Gwen scoffed in disbelief. The Doctor didn't bother to answer her as he closed the phone, ending their conversation. He dropped the phone, not caring where it went. As he curled back up around Jack, trying to regain some of the lost warmth, he wondered briefly if that had been rude. He quickly decided that she had been rude first so it didn't matter. The phone began to ring again. Fumbling, he grabbed his sonic from beside him. Aiming it at the phone, he first thought of destroying it. Wondering how upset Jack would be at that, he quickly changed the setting and seconds later the phone went quiet again. Placing his sonic carefully back on the bed, he turned snuggling into his lover. Holding himself against Jack he fell asleep once more.
When he awoke again, Jack was still sleeping soundly. He carefully got out of bed, tucking the blankets around Jack to keep him warm. He retrieved Jack's phone from where it had fell to the floor. Opening it, he saw that there were several missed calls from Gwen and Tosh. The Doctor took the phone with him to the TARDIS kitchen. Absentmindedly, he opened and closed the phone several times as he walked. Reaching the kitchen, he found the kettle already simmering. He smiled as he poured himself a cup of tea. Opening the phone, he dialed Martha's number.
"Jack, is everything alright?" Martha wondered as she answered.
"He was up half the night sick, but I gave him an anti-emetic that seems to have settled his stomach," The Doctor informed her, unaware still of her and Jack's previous conversation.
"That's good to hear. How are you doing Doctor?" Martha asked.
"I'm fine," He answered immediately. She sighed loudly. She hated that answer and he knew it. It didn't stop him from using it, though. "I was calling because I have decided to perform the surgery on Tish's arm myself and I need an orthopedic surgeon to assist. Do you know of a surgeon who would be willing to help?"
"I can ask around. I don't know anyone personally who is skilled enough to fix her arm," Martha told him. The Doctor couldn't help but chuckle.
"No one in the twenty-first century would be. I just need someone who can clean up her arm and set the bones. I will take care of the damage from there," The Doctor explained. Martha tried not to be offended by his laughing and the slight insult.
"I will ask around. If you are going to perform the surgery, though, you are going to need a full surgical team and not just one surgeon," Martha advised him. "I can see about getting more people to assist, I just need to know if you are sure you can fix her arm."
"I'm sure," The Doctor lied.
"Alright. I will get back to you as soon as I can." Martha disconnected the call. Putting the phone down the Doctor picked up his tea. He took a long sip as he wondered once again if he was making the right decision.