Watching the Doctor Sleep
He did not watch him sleep. That would be pointless.
Instead, he assured himself that the Doctor was as comfortable as possible; that he was as safe as he, himself, could ensure; that he was, in fact, sleeping.
He bent to adjust the Doctor's position slightly with deliberate hands.
Moving a few paces away, he spared the prone, injured man one last glance, then surveyed the horizon. Nothing moved.
He lifted his communicator, activated it; waited for the response that he knew he could not reasonably expect for hours.