Author's Note: Nice to see the familiar accounts from my story Virus reading and reviewing! It feels great to be writing again, and I love your input! Also, I understand that in the last chapter it may have been unclear, but Clara was running through a hallway when the Doctor stepped out of the library and stopped her.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. All rights go to BBC.

The deep red flush that covered his cheekbones while the rest of his face was ghostly pale, the

sweat that coated his forehead, the bags under his eyes, the glazed, fuzzy look in his eyes and the way

he held himself. Just by brushing against his face she could feel the difference in comparison to his

usual cool skin. "Clara?" He snapped her out of her observations.

"Are you feeling alright, Doctor?"

"Of course, Clara. I was just sitting by the fire in the library, reading a book when I heard you

running this way. Tell me, what's wrong?" She was uncertain of herself.

"My bracelet... It was glowing and beating. You need me. I came running, but I got lost..."

"I always need you." He said playfully, giving her a half-hearted chuckle.

"You don't look well."

"I'm fine Clara. You should get back to sleep." He tried to usher her back the way she'd came,

turning her away from him.

"I tried to be nice about this Doctor, I did. But you look awful! I don't even think a blind person

could miss that!" She didn't get a response. Turning around, she saw him sliding down the wall, his

breathing uneven and shallow.

"Doctor!" She yelped in surprise, rushing to help him stand.

"I'm alright Clara, I'm alright." He tried to push her away, but the attempt was so weak it only

worried her more. Sighing, she took his arm and threw it over her shoulder.

"Have you got a room somewhere in this place?" His lack of an answer scared her. Groaning,

she pulled him into the library where he had just come from. Near the fireplace, she saw a velvet couch

long enough for him to lie on. Beside it was a stack of books and a pair of round reading glasses.

"Come on then, lie down."

"I'm fine Clara!" He winced at the pain in his head, and despite his protests he did lie down.

"Yeah, of course. You were doing just awesome out there when you nearly collapsed."

"Don't worry about it. Just go back to sleep."

"I'm not leaving you in a state like this. I may not know much about Time Lords, but I'll do

anything I can to help."

"I don't need your help! I'm perfectly fine!" He glared at her with the defiance of a young

teenage boy to his mother. So, she did what any reasonable mother would have done. She slapped him.

"What was that for?!"

"For being stubborn and stupid. Now, let me help you." He stayed quiet this time, just closing

his eyes and focusing on breathing. "What's wrong, Doctor?" She asked softly.

"My-My chest... But I'm okay, it's probably something small and ridiculous. It'll pass. Just, don't

worry, okay?"

"I have to worry. That's what best friends are for." She smiled at him, kneeling beside his head.

He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. She lovingly put her own on top of it.

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled.

"Don't be stupid. Just go to sleep." It took mere seconds for him to do so, and she threw a blanket over him, which had suspiciously appeared next to

her on the floor. Clara realized she had absolutely no idea on how to handle this. He had complained about his chest... that couldn't be good, no

matter what he said. She was way out of her league on this one, and she knew it.

She sat back onto the carpet floor, burying her face in her hands. She was tired. Maybe he was

right. Maybe it will just pass. If she was lucky, perhaps she'd wake up in the morning and he'd already

be making plans for the day's trip. Her eyes drooped and she fell asleep on the rug beside him, the fire

crackling and providing a soft warmth for the both of them.

Author's Note: Sorry if the chapter's a bit short, but I really want to end it there. Please review!