She didn't really want to go back on the TARDIS, to be honest. After the whole fiasco with no bedrooms, no coffee, and no common sense, all Bernice really wanted to do was return to her current university, the Delvian Academy, not look back at the damn blue box or the small planetoid she kept winding back up on for a very long time, and maybe- just maybe, get to save herself another headache.
Unfortunately, the era of the Delvian Academy that Benny taught at was a century from now. Well, 'now' was always a relative term, but it was a century from the Braxiatel Collection's relative time- which was a 'now' she was familiar with. And her time ring was still on the fritz. Braxiatel graciously offered to repair it... again- but that was more than likely going to take a while. So here she was, masochistically bouncing between two Time Lords that she really couldn't stand looking in the eye at the moment, like some kind of galactic yo-yo.
The Doctor had fixed the fluid links and found her bedroom, at the very least. Evidently, that was the biggest of the problems, because when he was able to pick her up a few days later, he actually managed to land in the Collection's docking bay. No need for third-rate transit ships as connecting flights this time, no need to strand herself in a seedy part of a planet's trade port city, just step in and go. Bernice was relieved, and had spent the last couple of days- for the most part comfortably, on the TARDIS.
Until the literal headache came on. The worst headache of her life.
Across the last week she'd gotten itchy, and had some kind of rather unpleasant rash that had spread out from her hand. Benny's adventures were hardly fun and games, so she'd tried to rationalize it many different ways across that period of time. Though she didn't usually just get migraines this bad out of nowhere, and it was setting off red flags all around just by happening at all.
Trying to get herself to bed, Bernice's knees buckled and she collapsed onto the console room floor, a sudden fatigue overcoming her. There was a ringing in her ears that wouldn't go away. The Doctor didn't even seem to notice it much, and just sort of nudged her body with one foot, assuming she was just being dramatic and angry at him again with how everything had been over the last several days.
"Goddess..."
Was she really going to do it again? Call Brax, let him see her like this, and look like a washed-up idiot who couldn't take care of herself again? Of course not- that would be ridiculous, she'd lose all her dignity. At this point though, it should be acknowledged that Professor Bernice Summerfield did not have a large degree of impulse control, or even very much dignity to speak of anyway.
So, across the universe and timezones, all the way from the floor of the Doctor's TARDIS, to the warm comfort of his study, Irving Braxiatel received a call.
He barely just glanced up from his papers, small half-moon spectacles perched above his nose to read them. When he caught it, seeing through the corner of his eye that it was from Bernice, he dropped one hand away from them and onto the holocorder across the desk. Her face was one he was almost always happy to see, save for a few occasional reasons- but the position and expression Brax could gather from the holomeet wasn't particularly comforting.
"Hello, Benny. I see you're making contact again- not that I'm complaining much. But is everything quite alright?"
The woman croaked. "I... have a migraine..." she paused, before adding, "-Wasn't from alcohol- I swear!"
He raised a suspicious eyebrow before carefully removing his reading glasses and placing them on the desk. "A likely story."
"Not lying- it's true. Hurts... Fuuuuuuuck."
Appearing nonchalant, Braxiatel spoke over another, really actually quite dull- paper now, lecturing somewhat, "So take a painkiller. I'm afraid I can't humour you for all of your maladies, Benny. You are an adult woman after all."
"It's one of those. Just... won't go away. You know- I'm not calling just 'cause," she coughed.
Irving quietly dropped the papers he was still holding and pushed them away to the side, staring at her intently. This wasn't like her at all. He tried inferring what she wanted to ask him. "Oh dear... would you like me to take a look?"
Unfortunately, her response wasn't exactly what he was hoping for. "Not... near my head right now, please." She seemed to be pushing the watch away, like he was in the room there with her and she wanted to keep her distance.
And in addition to all that, without any context, all he could hear from the other present figure, aside from occasional footsteps, were the words: "Please get off the floor," in what seemed a stern and cold tone.
"Not gonna happen-" Benny shut him down.
Braxiatel was simply exasperated, and shot a glare off- one that would hopefully catch the right person, and begged the question, "Doctor, what in the universe have you been doing to her?"
The Doctor flickered into frame, circling around and sitting behind Bernice, evidently for a better view and possible inspection of her state. "Nothing! I don't know, some human problem! ...I think." He saw the Doctor looking over her body to see what was wrong, but obviously not appearing to be doing a particularly good job of it. He was clearly just quite rusty with this.
A rush of anger and frustration flooded Brax. "You're supposed to be good with humans! Take care of her properly, damn it!"
Bernice shivered and coughed again. "It's... so cold in here. Starting to notice that now, I think."
The Doctor nodded vaguely, giving a straight, clear, but obviously frustrated statement. "I'll give you a proper checkup. But Professor Summerfield, first you must get off the floor."
Grumbling and itching her arm again, Benny gave in. "Nghh... fineeeeeee-" the woman groaned.
Braxiatel rolled his eyes, looking at her struggling up off the floor and shambling to a wall to lean on. While he did his best to respect her own agency, a worried question or sternly worded suggestion was in order. "Why do you keep going places with him, Benny? He seems rubbish."
"I... dunno. Don't really want to. Just sorta do?" was all she said. Pretty much the exact same answer as last time. It was deeper than that, surely. But he wouldn't pry further- yet.
The Doctor approached and touched Bernice's forehead. "She does seem awfully warm..." he muttered.
Oh, that settled that then. "Oh, she probably just has a fever," Brax informed him.
The other man nodded, answering dryly. "I gathered that much. Well, her room is just down the hall, she can rest."
"Perhaps you should come over and allow me to take a look? You know I'm far more familiar with her than you are."
"I really ought to sort things out myself-" Benny lurched forward, the Doctor catching her arm before she could land face-first on the floor.
"Not today, Summerfield. I want you to be safe and healthy before you go anywhere else. Still don't understand you terribly well sometimes, but..."
"If you don't know how to take care of her, you should bring her home- er..." His tongue slipped. "B-back to the Collection! Yes, that. We do have a high-class infirmary. Her health is a top priority, after all." Bernice was going to be coming back to him- to where she truly belonged, and where she'd stay this time, if Braxiatel really had anything at all to say on the matter.
Reluctantly, the Doctor agreed. "I'll release her into your care soon. Give us a bit."
Brax nodded as the holomeet paused.
"Summerfield, if you could give me your holowatch... I'll need it to contact Braxiatel for arrangments."
Benny nodded, wearily. Itching at the arm she happened to be wearing it on this particular day, she undid the strap and pulled it away. Placing it on the horizontal bevelled edge of the console, she shivered and leant over, supporting herself on it with one arm. She didn't expect to be very glad about anything the Doctor had been doing recently, but offering a shoulder to lean on as he escorted her to bed? Not something she was particularly in the mood to argue or complain about.
Not that she was particularly in the mood to argue or complain about much of anything at the moment. Which was rare and concerning, considering one of her many accolades was in debate, a supposed art that mostly consisted of pretty much nothing but arguing and complaining, just refined down to be generally less openly rude-sounding, and occasionally having a fact or two thrown in. But like many things in life, Bernice Summerfield preferred her words raw.
Turning down the corridors, her quarters were actually still where they belonged, which was a bit of a nice surprise this time, even if Bernice did have a body covered in irritating rashes and a terrible fever making her woozy. Separating herself from the Doctor's grasp, she shambled into the dark room and fell onto the mattress.
It was comfortably warm against her chilled and sweating skin. Wrapping herself in the comforter and curling up into a ball, Benny couldn't help but be curious about what the Doctor and Brax were talking about now, so instead of sleeping, she snatched up her datapad. Well, and right now she really wanted to see Braxiatel watching over. It was always... reassuring, when she was ill. She'd only seen him a few minutes ago though- why did she miss that bloody Time Lord so much?
Separating the Braxiatels in her head still wasn't doing her any favours. Even the one that lost all grip of himself, manipulated, committed multiple genocides, and murdered her husband as well as several friends at the previous version of the Collection, she just couldn't help thinking about. Good or bad, he always seemed to be waiting just in the back of Bernice's mind. A grasp she really couldn't stand, but often gave into anyway.
Benny groaned and turned in the bed, feeling like she was on fire now after only a few minutes under the covers. Sighing, she patched the datapad through and broke into their conversation, getting the hanging end of a sentence.
"-Her room is dark so she may arrive already asleep."
"That's fine, it'll hardly be the first time in the last week I've had to carry her to bed."
She turned beet red at that remark. Or was it the fever? Evidently though, they hadn't noticed an eavesdropper because she didn't have a camera active.
"I'll get things going. We'll be at the Collection soon."
Her voice being on the comms startled them. "Wait... So we're actually going there? It wasn't some little white lie so you'd get Braxiatel off your back?"
The old man furrowed his brow. "Of course not! Poppycock!"
"Why would he lie about your health, Bernice? Unless there's something very unpleasant going on that either of you should tell me."
She blocked off that train of questioning. "No, no. That's not what I meant at all. And you're not just getting me to the Collection so afterwards you can convince me not to leave again because you know what's good for me?"
He swallowed his words. She didn't hit the nail on the head, per se, but definitely bent it out of shape. While nobody could read Brax perfectly, Benny was a bit too good at it. Far from an open book, Bernice however could observe the cover, glimpse at the pages, decipher its language, and get the gist. The mysterious Time Lord may have surrounded himself with walls, but the fortress of his mind did have doors, albeit small ones that were hard to find. But she was an archaeologist and a lockpick to boot. If something was off limits she could try and break in.
They were the perfect pair of best friends, and still a perfect pair when they turned enemies. The two of them might've once been perfect as something else, even. But the Doctor interrupted her thought.
"Professor Summerfield- Bernice, please go to sleep. You actually need it very much right now, and I'm told blue light can be bad for human eyes."
"Read that while I was on the floor, did you?" Benny glared, not that he could see her without her having a camera active.
"...Maybe.."
There was a long pause as the Doctor circled out of view from the holowatch's camera display and she couldn't see him anymore. But there were noises of console and control feedback responses, so he was likely doing something for once.
"Braxiatel, I'm materializing."
The grinding, screeching, moaning sound broke out and echoed across the whole ship, including Bernice's room. Fat lot of good lying around in the dark doing nothing would accomplish if this would just wake her up.
The materialization sound ending was followed by a soft thud. They were here.
The holomeet ended altogether. Either the Doctor or Braxiatel shut it off, because she couldn't access it anymore. Putting one foot in front of the other, Benny fumbled herself out of bed and pushed against the walls.
Meeting her in the middle between her bed and the console room, the old man once again took her arm and supported her the rest of the way out of the TARDIS. It was the bad arm though, and she winced in pain the whole time through.
The light as they stepped outside was blinding. If the halls of the TARDIS were a smack in the head to her migraine, this beautiful, perfect weather in the garden outside the mansionhouse was a flat-out concussion.
As always, Irving Braxiatel was waiting for her. As always.
