He was a rational being, one bred of logic and intellect. He could not succumb to unreasonable anxiety. That flutter of apprehension was merely a delayed reaction to the perilous situation. If he hadn't been able to free Rose when he did, she might have drowned. But he had liberated her, and he had gotten her to shore and back to the safety of the TARDIS. And now she was healed and sleeping comfortably before him. Thus, there was no reason whatsoever for him to worry.
The Doctor pushed himself up from the bed and went to stand beside Rose. Her color had improved a little, but she still remained rather pale. He rested his hand against her cheek; her temperature was normal. He didn't know why he'd expected anything else.
He pressed his fingers gently over her wrist to count the steady pulse beats. There were no lingering signs of shock, no indications that she was anything other than fine.
Still, it couldn't hurt to run a quick full-body scan. She'd undoubtedly been pummeled about by the rocks as they fell, and it was possible that she'd sustained some internal injuries. He pulled back the blanket to view her torso, exposed almost fully to him thanks to her scanty bikini. She had a few scrapes on her stomach, and there was a bruise forming over her hip. He watched the soft rise and fall of her chest, remembering that she'd been underwater and deprived of oxygen for a time. He should check her lungs, just in case; she might have aspirated some water, which could eventually lead to infection and pneumonia.
Her hair, tangled and coarse from the seawater, had fallen over her eyes again. He took a moment to smooth it away. Beneath it he found an abrasion on her brow. Why hadn't he thought to check for head injury?
His fingers ran carefully over her scalp. Aside from a few bits of seaweed, he found nothing abnormal. He was just lowering her head back to the pillow when she opened her eyes.
"Hey," she said sleepily, smiling immediately at the sight of him.
He smiled back. "How're you feeling?"
She considered the question for a moment, taking a quick inventory of her body. "My leg doesn't hurt anymore."
"No; it's nearly healed."
"Really?"
"Yep. Simple osteo repair; nothing to it," he told her, only glossing over the truth slightly.
"Thanks." She pushed herself up onto her elbows to look down at the brace. "What's this then?"
"Just a bit of extra support until it heals fully."
"How long's it gonna take?"
"Only a few more hours."
She sat up fully, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. "Do I have t'stay in here the whole time?"
"What, you don't like my fully equipped, extremely high-tech, state-of-the-art infirmary?"
"Looks a little too much like a hospital," she replied.
"And you were expecting what? A movie theater? A shop?"
She grinned broadly. "A shop! Now that'd be a nice addition to the TARDIS!"
He chuckled. "Are you sure there isn't one?"
"Oh, I know there's not, 'cause you'd be in it all the time oohin' and awein' over all the odds 'n' ends."
He arched an eyebrow at her, then his expression grew more serious. "Really, Rose, do you feel all right?"
She nodded. "Yeah, fine. Like I said, my leg doesn't hurt at all—just itches a little."
"Does anything else hurt?"
"No."
"You sure? You've got a couple of bruises and scrapes."
She glanced down inside the blanket. "Nothin' serious."
He held up his index finger. "Follow this with your eyes."
She complied, demonstrating excellent ocular motor activity. He took a pen light from the countertop and shone it into each eye anyway, just in case. Her pupils responded with beautiful normalcy.
"All right?" she asked him.
"Yep."
"Told ya."
"I should check your lungs," he said, keeping his voice casual.
She frowned a little. "How come?"
"You might have inhaled some water. Lung tissue's rather fussy and tends to react badly to that sort of thing."
"I don't think I did," she responded.
"Probably not, but I'd like to check anyway, just in case."
Now her pretty brow was quite furrowed. "You're worryin' too much. I'm really okay. Only thing botherin' me now is all this salty gunk that's dried in my hair. An' unless you're plannin' on comin' into the shower with me an' shampooin' my hair, I don't think there's anything else you need to do for me."
He tried not to flush at the image she'd suggested. Instead he turned away quickly and grabbed a stethoscope. She rolled her eyes.
"Just one little listen," he said.
"Haven't you got anything more high-tech than that?"
"Of course, but that'd require time to set up, time to use, and this is quick and effective."
"An' after you're done I get to have a shower?"
She was a good negotiator. Or maybe he was just too eager to please her, to atone for the accident at the beautiful beach that he'd assumed was perfectly safe…
"Yep," he finally replied.
She lowered the blanket so that he could press the instrument over her chest and back. Her lungs sounded perfectly normal, and her heartbeat was strong although a little fast. She was scratching idly at the salty residue on her leg. Now that he thought about it, the remains of the mineral felt rather itchy on his own skin.
"Well?" she asked as soon as he'd finished. "Fine, yeah?"
"And dandy."
"So is it okay if I stand in this thing?" she inquired, touching the top of the brace.
"You'll be more comfortable sitting, but moving about won't impair the healing process."
He looped his arm around her back and helped her from the couch. He took her to one of the extra bathrooms that had a large shower with a tiled seat and a removable shower head. It was fully stocked with shampoo, conditioner, soap, soft flannels, and even a couple of plush robes. Rose seemed pleased and shooed him out of the room.
"Just call if you need anything," he said, stepping out the door.
"Could you get my bag from the beach an' leave it just out there?" she asked.
"Yep."
He hurried down the corridor and back to the console room. The suns still shone in the sky, warming his skin as he stepped outside. The water was calm, and he felt no vibrations beneath his feet. He'd run a scan of the area as soon as he was back at the console; he was curious to find out what had caused the quake-like event.
Rose's bag lay just where he'd left it. He took down the umbrella and returned it to its case then added her shoes to the bag. He stood for a moment looking out at the bright, turquoise water and the jagged, broken arch. This scrape had been entirely too close.
The Doctor sighed and walked slowly back to his ship.
Rose had rinsed the shampoo from her hair and was just smoothing in the conditioner when she felt the vague light-headedness. Her arms were strangely heavy, and she lowered them to rest her hands against the tile seat. She'd had quite a day, she supposed.
She ran her fingers over the brace encasing her leg. She could hardly believe now that it had been broken. It was barely even sore, just a bit stiff and tired, really. She sat for a few moments then went back to work on her hair.
When she'd finished her shower, she stood and pulled on one of the robes. It was made of lovely, very soft terry cloth, and it absorbed the drops quickly. Still, she felt quite chilly now that she was away from the steaming water. She hugged the robe closed.
She found a nice array of hair products at the vanity. She spent some time combing out her hair then drying it. As she tucked the blow dryer back into a drawer, she noticed that her hand shook a bit. Truth be told, she was exhausted. Her experienced had been a harrowing one. She supposed, too, that a major injury like a broken leg was draining on the entire body. Oh, she knew the damage was fixed, but surely it would be taxing.
With a tired sigh, Rose stood and walked slowly to the door. Her bag sat just outside, and she reached in to retrieve her shorts and top. She realized, however, that she had no underwear; she'd worn her bikini under the clothes. Well, that was probably for the best, because she still felt chilled and really needed to put on something warmer. She wondered if she could remove the brace for a few moments to get some clothes onto her legs.
She trudged down the corridor to her room. She wasn't sure how long she'd slept in the infirmary, but she suspected it had only been a short while. She was shivering now; she'd become even more chilled moving along the corridor. The robe was damp, she realized. She needed clothing, but she still wasn't sure about the brace.
Rose settled for a warm jumper and a loose pair of flannel boxers that she was able to pull over the brace. She tugged on thick, wool socks, too. The entire process, however, left her utterly drained.
Drawn to her bed, Rose sank down, scooting back to get her legs up onto the mattress. She sought the sanctuary of her comforter, snuggling under it, and within a few moments she fell asleep.
