Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. The Doctor isn't mine, nor is Sisters of the Infinite Schism. Cat and her angst, however, are.
The first time my eyes opened, it was incredibly brief. There was a flash of pale blue, a flare of white, and then I was falling into darkness again.
The second time was just as quick, but my eyes focused on my surroundings a bit more, and I got a view of a small room with blue walls and white trim. I was in what appeared to be a hospital bed, but that's as far as my eyes got before shutting once more.
The third time happened to be the final time. My ears were working again, and a steady beep could be heard. My body ached as I shifted beneath the heavy blanket that covered from my ribcage down. My right arm was specifically hard to move. On either side of my head, a transparent sort of white curtain hung down to the floor like a sort of decoration. There was a window with the same sort of curtains dampening the light to my left, as well as a short, white bedside table with a lamp.
I closed my eyes and attempted to swallow through my dry throat. I didn't know if that was from lack of water, of if something else was up, but it was still annoying. I tried to shift my arm again, and I could've sworn I heard my elbow lurch. When I tried to sit up, my head throbbed.
Biting my lip, I went through my memories to figure out where I was. The last thing I remembered was the wreckage of that ship – my book in a charred trunk. Briefly, the image of a charred, flaking corpse flashed through my mind before I pushed it out. I'd blacked out. And then I remembered the small holes in my wrist. I glanced down to look at my hand, and saw white bandages wrapped above it.
I sighed and leaned back against the stripped pillows behind my head. Though my muscles protested, I reached up to run my left hand through my hair.
It was then that I realized I wasn't wearing my glasses.
My hand roamed over my face as if to confirm that stark conclusion. I knew I wasn't wearing contacts, but I moved to check anyways.
"Why are you poking your eye?"
I jerked at the sudden voice and jammed my pointer finger into my iris. I swore loudly, and then covered my eye with my hand as it started to water. With my one good eye, I turned to glare at who had spoken. The glare softened slightly when I saw the Doctor standing in the doorway.
"Where are my glasses?" I asked angrily. Those things had been a pain in my butt since my teenage years, but I loved them nonetheless.
He stared at me, his face blank. Anger was flashing in his eyes. Then, he turned and left me alone once more.
"Doctor!" I called after him. He didn't respond.
A woman in a white headdress entered the room moments later, a pale blue tray in her arms. She offered me a kind smile.
"He just needs a while to calm down, dear," she said gently. As she got closer, I examined her face. Wrinkles littered her skin, and her eyes were like my grandmother's had been before she passed away – old and kind.
The Doctor was temporarily forgotten, my mind fixed on my lack of eyewear.
"Where are my glasses?" I asked again.
"Our general healing agent repaired your eyes while you were unconscious," she explained as she set the tray on a small table to my right and took a tall glass of water from it, holding it out to me. "Your glasses are with your husband. He demanded that we refrain from throwing them away."
I blinked, removing my hand from my eye. "Husband?"
She smiled as I took the water. "He's a very nice man when he's not shouting at us."
Something in my brain clicked, and I realized that she was talking about the Doctor. I was about to correct her and say that we were just friends when a thought crossed my mind. Perhaps he was using the cover of husband for a purpose. So, instead of telling her we weren't married, I just nodded and apologized for him.
"Not at all, dear, not at all," she frowned at me. "I'd be furious as well if I were him. Now, drink your water and get some rest."
I thought it best to bite my tongue as she left the room, her long white skirt trailing behind her.
My mind quickly went into overload. The first thing to cross my mind was my eyes, which was absurd in this situation. There were so many other things to be thinking about, things that were ten times more important. Still, I couldn't fathom not requiring my glasses to see anymore. Most people would've been jumping for joy. I, on the other hand, felt like an important part of who I was had just been ripped away from me.
Once I'd regained some conscious control of my thoughts, I focused on everything that had just happened. The Doctor had been angry. It might've been because of what I'd told Adrienne and Nicholas, but something in my gut told me that wasn't right. It was because of something else – something worse. Part of me didn't want to know what.
My mind shifted to what was happening to me. I was certain this was a hospital now, so I was either injured or sick. Other than the ache and the occasional throb in my head, I didn't feel like I was unhealthy. I wasn't injured, either, as far as I could tell. Something had to be wrong with me, though. I resolved to either ask the woman the next time she came in, or the Doctor, if his mood improved.
With a sigh, I looked down at the glass in my hands. The water was clear, but there was a certain quality to it that made it different from the water I'd drank back home. I thankfully raised the cup to my lips, and swallowed as many gulps as I could before stopping to breathe. Once there was air in my lungs once more, I chugged the last of the water. Finally, I leaned over to set the glass on the bedside table with the lamp, my body aching in protest.
As I leaned back into the pillows, I found my eyelids getting heavy once more. Either something was really wrong with me, or I'd been asleep far longer than I thought. That small amount of exertion had drained me. I didn't fight it, though, and fell asleep moments after allowing my eyes to drift closed.
The next time the woman came in, she brought a tray of food. I'd never seen things like it, but I figured it was safe enough to eat, so I dug in. I obviously hadn't realized how hungry I was, because the food was there one second and gone the next. I whimpered as I stared at where it had been, and the woman chuckled.
"Don't worry, I'll sneak a candy bar into you later," she whispered with a mischievous grin.
I smiled. This was my kind of woman. Then, it struck me.
"Oh, um, I don't think I know you name…" I mumbled.
"I'm Nurse Singer," she said as she held a frail hand out to me.
I took the hand gingerly. "I'm Cat."
She laughed, her voice like chiming bells. "I know, sweetheart. Your name is not easily forgotten."
"Sorry?"
She looked confused for a moment, but realization flashed through her eyes. "Oh, of course, your husband mentioned that you've been spending time away, traveling and whatnot. Your name is a very old, very rare Earth name. I've never met a child named Catherine before."
"Oh…" My mind went to the Doctor. I'd woken a few more times since that first decent period of consciousness, but he hadn't been here. I hadn't seen him. "Um, my husband," I said, ignoring the butterflies that flared in my stomach, "has he been here?"
"If he has, he's been very sneaky about it. I haven't seen him."
Whatever I'd done to upset him, it must've been really, really bad. I wondered if I could fix it somehow – make him a card, or something.
"Don't worry about him, sweetheart," Nurse Singer muttered, stroking the top of my head comfortingly. "The last few days have been a lot for him to take in."
The same curiosity I'd had the last time she'd been here erupted, and I leaned forward, my body screaming in protest. I winced.
"Oh, dear, let's get you something for that ache, huh?" she asked, turning away from me and towards the small table where she'd set a tray identical to last time. She pulled something out of the pocket in her bright white gown. When I took a closer look, I found it to be a little bottle, like the kind that prescription pills came in. She twisted the top off and pulled a small, white pill out of it, dropping it into a glass of water identical to the one I'd had before. As the pill started to dissolve, she lifted it from the tray and held it out to me.
"That should help with any pain you're experiencing."
I muttered my thanks as I took the glass and gulped a large amount of water. My muscles slowly began to unwind, the ache disappearing the more water I got in my system. I chugged the last of the glass, my tongue slithering out to attempt to get every drop.
Nurse Singer chuckled and snatched the glass from my hands. "Better?"
I nodded.
"Good, we've got the right regimen, then."
As we both quieted, I figured that now was a good time to ask.
"Um, Nurse Singer, what's wrong with me?"
Her aging body tensed, and she slowly turned to me. Her eyes flashed with sympathy, and then she shook her head. Her lips pursed, and she glanced towards the door. She took a step towards it. Deciding to take advantage of my newly pliable muscles, I leaped out of bed and grabbed at her gown. For the first time, I noticed that I'd been changed out of my jeans and sweatshirt, and changed into a pair of soft pajamas.
"Child, I don't think—"
"Please."
She stared at me for a moment, and then took my hand within hers. Her eyes connected with mine.
"You're dying, Catherine."
A/N: Since it has been a month since my last update, I figured I'd give you guys this. I felt bad about the cliffhanger, too, but I suppose this isn't much better. This chapter is extremely short, but I just had to end it here. I've been planning this particular scene for so long, and it came out better than I'd ever thought it could.
Um, let's see... I'll hopefully have the next chapter up before the end of the month. School is slowly approaching, so I'll have less time to write. Scary things, people. I got my Freshman Orientation Invite in the mail today... Yikes. Still, no less excited.
So, that's all. Feel free to send me hate mail for all of the cliffhangers and angst and whatnot.
I LOVE YOU!