Rose sneezed, the force making her aching head boom into pain. Tissues claimed almost everywhere around her bed. She felt like a slob, but she didn't want to aim for the garbage can anymore. Her eyes were too puffed up.
Rose hated colds. Especially ones that snuck up on you so fast you wake up with them only after a great, free of sickness day. Of course, she had gone swimming in a cold lake with her two best friends. Wonder if Jack and the Doctor were sick?
A knock at the door. Rose silently wished the person away, then decided she should answer after all. A girl wants sympathy. One problem: her voice wasn't working.
"Rose?" The Doctor called. Rose shrugged in responce.
'Come in, Doctor.' She thought.
"I'm comin' in, alright?" He sounded hesitant, and the door opened slightly, then all the way. Rose waved from her spot on the bed. The Doctor frowned. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" It was almost a pout.
He walked over to the bed, careful not to step on too much tissues, and felt Rose's forehead. "No fever." He grinned. Rose smiled slightly. "Can't talk?" His question was answered by a shake of her head. "Hungry?" Another shake. "Hmmm."
Leaving as quietly as he had come, the Doctor reappeared fifteen minutes later with a bowl of soup. He offered it happily.
Rose shook her head.
"Eat, please?" When that didn't work, the Doctor adopted a stern look. "Eat it or I'll pour it down your throut." He warned.
Rose took it reluctantly. As she brought the spoon to her lips the Doctor started cleaning up her tissues. Rose felt a bang of guilt and then realized she had a fork in her hand.
She stared at it dumbly for a second. A fork? For soup?
"For the noodles and the crackers." The Doctor explained. "You can drink the broth, right?" He looked somewhat like a lost boy. "Its what I do."
Rose realized he must of never had to do this for anyone before and she smiled at him to show she wasn't angry and he didn't do it wrong. She'd just have to sip it carefully.
The Doctor finished cleaning up her tissues. He brought the never-full garbage can over, before sitting on the bed. He watched her eat and drink, watching much like a, well, doctor.
When she finished Rose felt better. Her eyes wern't so puffy, and her throut didn't hurt anymore. Her head wasn't pounding. Nice.
"Thanks." Rose smiled. "Was that just soup?"
"And some handy little extras that fix up the pationt." The Doctor grinned. "And if you sneeze, it reflects the germs and sticks to the bowl."
Rose laughed.
A few hours later, Rose, Jack and the Doctor where out on another adventure, Rose healthy as an ox. Jack was starting to sneeze, though.