Chapter 2

Sexy was used to her Doctor remaining awake for long stretches. Time Lords didn't need to sleep as much as humans did, so even when he had companions aboard the TARDIS, he would often visit favorite destinations while they slept to keep himself occupied. This regeneration did so quite a bit more than the past ones. But she'd never seen him go this long.

Twenty-four hours. Forty-eight hours. Seventy-two.

Her Doctor just sat in his corner, staring. Never moving, except every few hours on the first day to go relieve himself, but eventually he didn't even do that. Sexy had never known as much as she wanted to about time lord or human biology, but she knew that couldn't be good for him.

Sexy knew what River would do, if she knew about this. It was one thing when River needed the Doctor to sleep because he was too energetic, and she had her own means of making that happen—she was his wife, after all, and Sexy had witnessed far more than she'd ever wanted to.

But it was different when River caught him sitting awake and alert, haunted by his past. On those days, River would sit with him and put an arm around him, tousling his hair and rubbing his back, maybe whispering endearments. Slowly, he would succumb to the soothing comfort, until he was malleable enough in her hands that she could pull his head down to rest on her shoulder, and his eyes would fall closed.

For what must have been the millionth time, Sexy wished she were corporeal. She longed to hold him gently until he slept in her arms.

Either way, she couldn't let him go on like this. She analyzed his neurotransmitters and generated an aerosol that would put him to sleep, filling the control room with the odorless chemical. Within a couple of minutes, his eyelids sunk further with each blink—any minute now, he'd be forced to go find his bedroom and sleep.

He didn't. Eventually, he just laid on his side in the corner and dozed.

~doctorwho~doctorwho~doctorwho~

He slept for longer than Sexy had ever seen him sleep at a stretch. Twenty-two hours. And when he finally did awaken, he still didn't move.

For days and days and days.

River would never put up with that. She'd sympathize for a little while, but she wouldn't let him sit in place for days. Eventually, she'd scold him, maybe even slap him if he stood up and started to mouth off and she decided he needed it. Then he'd whirl around and hold his face, rub away the sting, and he'd finally talk to her. They would argue, and maybe he'd even storm away, but at least he'd be moving, and later, he would thank her. Because River always knew what he needed.

Sexy couldn't scold him without a voice, but she could make him move. She started by gently rocking the control room. He noticed—he had to—but he didn't react. Then she played with the gravity in the room around the edges, forcing him to get up and walk to the control panel.

He just stood there. He almost looked like he was too weak to do anything else—not just emotionally, but physically as well. But he didn't try, either.

In frustration, she gave the entire control room a quick, hard jolt.

A little too hard.

Her Doctor stumbled, and his hands flew forward to break his fall, but landed on the control panel, slamming against some of the sharper, rougher controls.

No! No no no . . . What had she done?

"Thanks, dear!" Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he looked down at a deep gash in his left palm.

Her desire for physical form peaked again. She wanted to apologize, to grovel, to cry. If nothing else, to tend to his hand—she wasn't sure he would do that for himself.

There were medical supplies in one of her many rooms, so she manipulated the matrix a little to bring the kit into the control room, and opened a tiny door on the control panel to reveal them to him.

Her Doctor glared for a long, long time, still clutching his left hand with his right.

Then he groaned and picked up the kit. Sexy's circuitry ran a little more smoothly—she didn't even realize it had stalled.

He cleaned it out with a disinfectant wipe, wincing and gasping all the while, then he wrapped up his whole hand in a bandage. "Happy?" He shoved the kit back into the compartment.

She swapped it out with a cold pack.

He sighed. "Thanks, dear," he said softly, and took the cold pack, sighing as he pressed it into his palm.

Sexy hummed—maybe this was a start—but her Doctor went right back to his corner.

~doctorwho~doctorwho~doctorwho~

After awhile, Sexy had to resist the urge to jolt him again. She really didn't want to hurt him, but he couldn't just stay there. He hadn't even eaten.

In her attempts to get her Doctor to move, Sexy had entirely forgotten about eating. Time lords could go a lot longer without than humans, but he still needed to—that was part of why he looked so weak. On those occasions when he stood, his muscles trembled so violently she was afraid he was going to fall even without her jolting the control room. In fact, she started manipulating gravity tiny amounts to keep him from falling.

He needed to eat.

Producing food was hard for her—she could technically make edible compounds, even shape them the way he was used to seeing them, but time lords and humans alike had very specified tastes that she couldn't quite match. She didn't want to make him feel sick. And she could have simply brought him food from one of the supply rooms, but if she kept doing that, he might never leave the control room. She'd save that for emergencies.

If the hunger pains weren't enough to get him to walk over there . . . she'd just have to entice him. Odor chemicals were easier than whole foods. She filled the control room with the smell of fish fingers and custard.

He stood and left the control room. For a moment she thought he was going to one of her supply rooms, but he didn't—he went to find a toilet, into which he vomited.

Sexy had no idea how that was even possible. There couldn't possibly be anything in his stomach. When he flushed away the sick, though, she realized there was no sick to flush away—he'd just been gagging and retching dry.

River wouldn't have let him do this. If it came to it, she would have force fed him, or fed him intravenously.

That, Sexy could do. It wouldn't have to be to his taste, it would just have to match his need for nutrients. She generated a compound quickly and easily, and put it into a needle, which she pushed out of the console so he could see it

Her Doctor stepped back. "What are you doing?"

Sexy ground her brakes in a way that she hoped sounded intimidating enough to get her message across.

"Are you threatening me?"

She wouldn't have used that word, but it didn't matter. She pushed the needle out a little further. With a little extra manipulation, she might be able to materialize a syringe and aim it at him, if he tried to run. She didn't want to hurt him, though, so she'd save that for a worst case scenario.

"Fine. Fine!" He stormed away to a supply room and picked up an apple. "Happy?"

No. She wasn't happy. Because he wasn't happy, and she could never be happy when he wasn't. Besides, his grieving wasn't following its usual pattern. This regeneration, especially, tended to mask his pain rather than wallowing in it. Some nights, after his companions had gone to sleep or back to their homes, he cracked, and the pain came spilling out. He smashed and destroyed things, shouted and cried. His outbursts always ended with him sobbing into the central console until he fell asleep on the glass floor and woke up, red-eyed and stiff but ready to travel again.

It was so easy for Sexy to support him through that—all she had to do was be there. This was different. Her Doctor didn't usually deflate and give up. That wasn't him. She didn't know what to do for him.

Her Doctor tossed the apple core into a disposal slot in the store room, and walked back to the control room. Sexy wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. This was killing her—she could feel the tension in her components.

But to her surprise, her Doctor didn't return to his corner. He walked straight to the center console and began to gently run his hands along the controls

"This must be hurting you," he whispered. "I'm sorry, dear. And thank you."

Cool relief spread through her, as tangible as when River had repaired her circuitry.

"You were made to travel, and so was I. You and I, we were made for each other. I bet sometimes, you wish we weren't."

No. Never. Not in a million universe lifetimes.

"But Amy's right—she's always right. Was always right. I can't travel alone. And I can't take River all the time, because she's right—one psychopath per TARDIS."

Sexy didn't understand that, but she supposed she didn't have to.

"I know you still want to travel. But I can't go through this. Not again. And it's not just about me. I can't do this to another human. And no matter how hard I try, or how many promises I make, this always happens. I can't travel without a companion, and it's selfish and wrong for me to take one."

Sexy had another idea of what selfish and wrong meant—any human he travelled with took the risk willingly, and most were glad they had in the end. Besides, her Doctor saved so many more people than he harmed by having a companion. But Sexy couldn't argue with him. Physically couldn't.

He sighed, as though he had heard her case. "I need time."

Time. She could give him time. And space. All of time and space, all of it—wasn't that what she had always been giving him, since the day she stole him?

But no. Even she knew that wasn't what he meant.

"I'll talk to Vastra and Jenny. Okay, dear?"

That was a good start. They didn't travel, but they would be kind and gentle to him without judging him. They could help him in ways that Sexy couldn't, and eventually they'd try to encourage him to run again.

He looked at the screen. "It's nighttime over Victorian London. I'm going to sleep for awhile. Wake me when it's morning out there, won't you, dear?"

She didn't have to be able to speak. She always woke him when he needed it, just like she'd give him anything and everything else he needed. And for as long as they both lived, she always would.

"Good night." His dimples deepened as he gave one last smile back toward the console. "You sexy thing."

The End

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please do leave a review, I enjoy reading them!