There's only Peter Davison days until the 50th so this was appropriate and I also don't own Doctor Who

The regeneration was failing; he could feel it. It wasn't that uncommon; every now and again the regeneration energy just couldn't cut the mustard. Funny phrase that was, cut the mustard. Why would anyone cut mustard? It was smooth and therefore did not require cutting. And what did that have to do with performance anyway? Mustard was slippery and without substance… Sort of like how he felt right now.

He slumped against the wall. He'd lost Adric- er Jamie… or was it Harry?- a while back and the Doctor just found himself slipping, slipping and sliding away like mustard coming down a wall. Hmmm Mustard again… maybe there was a meaning to the phrase. He shook his head, was he even the Doctor anymore? How could he be when he could barely stand himself up? He rubbed at his eyes, he needed the Zero Room.

He moaned as he his legs gave out beneath him and fell limply to the floor like a bunch of cooked noodles. He was thinking of a lot of food metaphors recently… perhaps he was hungry. He took another painful breath and as tried to find his grip but his limbs wouldn't listen to him. He needed help, real help, failing regenerations could be reversed but he needed help getting to the Zero Room. He tried sitting up only to fall back to the ground. He had no idea where any of the humans were and they couldn't get him there anyhow, not when he himself had no idea where it was. He laid his head on the floor and closed his eyes, well it had been a good couple of lives...

"Oh hush Doctor, it's alright, I'm here. I've always been here; I'm going to help you get up now. Come on you big boy, we're going to get you all better." The Doctor felt weightless as he was hefted up to his feet. He turned to see a pretty brown haired girl with a loving smile.

"N-Nyssa?" He questioned, she smiled sweetly and, once he was steady, began walking him down the hall.

"Not quite, Nyssa and Tegan are in the control room and Adric is er… feeling a bit under the weather. You might want to get him sorted him out a little later." She used the hand not supporting him to brush his damp hair from his eyes. Hmm blonde, he hasn't been blonde in a while… He has been blonde before hasn't he? They walked down the hallway in silence for a bit longer.

"If you're not Nyssa, then who are you? Why are you on my ship? And why are you-"

"Why am I helping you? Because I can, because you looked like you could use some help there and because though you don't know me yet, I will be a good friend of yours in the future. A long, long time from now you and me will travel in the TARDIS together and in order to save your life I had to be scattered along your timeline to stop a great evil from destroying you, but it's okay because I know you'll come and get me in the end." He blinked wearily. Hold on, what was she saying? He couldn't-he couldn't quite concentrate, couldn't hold onto a thought long enough to analyze it. All he knew, knew with his gut more than his muddled brain, that she was a friend and she meant him no harm.

"What?" The girl chuckled lightly; it was a pretty sound, one he was sure he would like someday.

"Nevermind, you won't remember any of this anyway, you almost never do. I don't mind, whatever keeps you safe if fine by me. And let me tell you something else, this body is not a failure. I've met him a few times before, in your future. He's a got a good heart, he's brave and loving, the savior of many worlds and absolutely cracking at cricket. It just takes a bit of getting used to is all, like a new pair of shoes." He leaned onto her shoulder, it was quite comfortable.

"Shoes?" He muttered as they came to a stop. He cracked open an eye. "Where are we?" He asked a bit more coherently, talking to the young lady had certainly helped get his brain straightened out. He didn't recognize the hallway, but that was no surprise.

"Your stop. You've got a very important decision to make right this minute and I don't want to get in the way." She smiled wryly "Besides, your ship is getting all huffy at me for interfering in your time stream. I think your snog box is just jealous I get to hold you so close." She gently released him and he was surprised at how much better he felt, he even felt he could walk on his own. He looked down the corridor, he should be able to get to the control room from there and get some help.

"Thank you miss, I don't know where I'd have been without-" he turned and found he was alone. He frowned and rubbed at his head. Had he just imagined her? The mind, and his naughty ship, was known to play tricks on him. Maybe he had imagined her, a savior to help him in his time of need.

He shrugged and began walking down the corridor. "Nyssa!" He shouted into the air, hoping one of them would hear him and get him out of these endless corridors. "Tegan?" He thought again of the girl, her soft brown hair and caring smile. He hoped he saved her soon after all she had done for him.

"Adric!" He rounded the corner and found a very charming little outfit on a coat rack by a mirror. After looking himself over in the mirror, he examined the outfit. He liked it, it was very much like him… this new him. He grabbed the cricket bat after discarding his Second self's recorder. Oh yes, this was very much him. He thinks maybe this new self wasn't such a failure after all, he made a mental reminder to thank the young lady for her help next time he saw her and then promptly forgot as he noted the dryness of the bat.

Yeah we're less than a week away so I thought I'd bring out this old thing to celebrate. I alternate on this 'Saving the Doctor' thing with made up storylines (as with 3 and 6) and actual events from episodes (5 and 7) so it's a good blend. This is real, it's an unseen moment from Fivey's opening episode Castrovalva. There's a scene where he's with Adric (who's being controlled by the Master) and Five is not doing well at all. The next time we see him he's upright and alert when he finds a cricket outfit lying on a hook. So I'd like to think he had a little help getting back on his feet (literally). Oh Peter Davison, you haven't been the Doctor for 30 years and I still miss you. That's the only problem with Classic Who, it gives you 8 more Doctors to cry over.