Henry: Although he'd tried very hard to listen to what The Doctor had to say, the words seemed to get harder and harder to focus on and he found himself drifting. He was vacantly aware of fingers touching the side of his head and winced when what he realised was an incredibly tender head wound was prodded.
"Must have knocked my head, when I fell", Henry realised aloud, slumping over as everything drifted just a little too much.
Doctor: Holding Henry DeTamble in his arms, The Doctor helped to steady the invalid and sit him down on the captain's chair. Pulling off his pinstripe jacket, he rolled it up and used it to apply pressure to the wound and then getting Henry to hold it for himself.
"Keep that there and don't move Henry, alright? I'll be right back", informed The Doctor, before leaving the injured man on his own while he went to get a med kit.
When The Doctor returned, medically equipped, he found Henry DeTamble sprawled across the seat, with his limbs dangling off and the borrowed coat spread rather precariously. He was quite unconscious. The blooded jacket lay unfurled, on the floor. Gently pulling Henry's head into his lap, The Doctor spoke to him, urgently, while patting each of the passed out man's cheeks in an attempt to rouse him. All that The Doctor received in reply was a slurred groan, which he clung on to hopefully as he began to work on healing Henry DeTamble.
Clare: Henry had been gone a couple of days now. As wife to a time traveller, Clare Abshire was very much used to this by now and always tried not to worry, but ended up getting distraught anyway. She decided what she needed was distraction and set about beginning a new sketch. She held a piece of charcoal to paper for several minutes, trying desperately to think of something she could draw, when she heard a noise from outside. It sounded akin to a grinding, moaning sound that could have been a traffic collision in a storm, if it weren't for that it was such a fine day and the street was quiet. Abandoning her drawing, Clare went outside and gasped when she saw the prone form of her husband, collapsed on the door step, a bandage wrapped around his head and wearing a long unfamiliar coat, with nothing underneath. She bent down and cradled him, speaking to him soothingly as he began to groan.
"It's alright Henry. You're home now. What happened? Should I call an ambulance?" Clare fussed. Hearing hurried footsteps, Clare looked up to see a man in beige trainers, pinstripes trousers, pale blue shirt, paisley tie and wild brown hair that stuck out at all angles. He spoke with a British accent.
"This guy showed up at my place, down the road, bleeding. Was asking to get home, but mam, he was in no condition. I know first aid and I've sorted out his head as best I can. Although best get him to a proper doctor. He may have concussion." Clare didn't know what to say, but settled for just thanking the man and asked him politely if he'd help get Henry inside.
Once Henry was laid on the sofa with a blanket over him, Clare rang the doctor and the stranger informed he had to leave. Albeit slightly overwhelmed by the situation, Clare managed to call out another quick thanks to the British lad as he hurried out the door. Clare tied up her call as quick as possible and looked out the window, in time to see the kind stranger walk into a blue wooden box, out on the street. Puzzled, she waited a little while longer for the man to emerge once again. However, when Henry began calling her name, Clare ceased her window watching and instead went to see to her husband.
