Hey! Sorry for the wait. I finished the rough the day I posted chapter two, but when I went to edit it the next day, the file was corrupted! I had to rewrite a bunch. That's also why it's a bit short.

I think this fic is going to end up being six chapters long. Until then, though, here's chapter three!

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

Chapter three: A warm comforter and a warm companion.

Blissful sleep was bound to follow in their presence. And so it did.

Sleep wrapped me in a choking hug and pulled me into heavy darkness. Despite the feeling of serenity it gave me, I could also see potential nightmares in the corner of my eye.

I was used to nightmares. They happened often, if not daily. That was why I liked sleeping in Stormcage. The Doctor knew I had to spend time there, so there is where I slept. My own idea, of course.

And, of course, that meant he'd never been in the presence of one of my nightmares.

I knew I was falling into one. I could sense it. Yet, the pull of sleep was so strong, I couldn't help but give in.

…

Quiet. No, not quiet. Quiet wasn't the absence of noise. It was a small amount of noise. It was maybe a single twittering bird out a window. Or the rustling of sheets beside you as the clock ticked off the ever shortening seconds until he'd slip between my fingers.

It wasn't quiet. It was silent.

Not even the TARDIS's soft engines purred. Not a single breath. Not a footstep. Not one sound.

Nothing.

I sat up, finding it pitch black in the bedroom. "Doctor?"

The word echoed, but there was no response.

"Doctor?" I tried again. I felt beside me, but I knew he wouldn't be there. I felt too cold for him to have been there in hours.

Where was he? He said he would stay with me, didn't he? Because I'm ill. I got sick because of him, but I wanted to see him? No. I want to go back to Stormcage. I want to hide the damage. But he already knows.

"River?" said a small voice in the dark.

"Doctor?" It sounded like it had come from the end of the bed. I crawled in that direction. "Doctor, can you hear me?"

The bed seemed to lengthen under my touch, and my head swam. I kept going.

"River..." his voice said, farther away this time.

"Doctor!" I called. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "Are you okay?"

The bed suddenly gave way somewhere, and I fell into an airy cacoon of blankets. They were soft but suffocating.

I couldn't breath.

"Doctor! Doctor, I can't breath!" she called. "I'm trapped!"

He responded, but she couldn't hear what he said.

"Help me!" she screamed. "Help me!"

A hand grabbed her ankle and pulled.

"No!" she screamed. "Doctor!"

"Hello, Melody," said a voice. The hand tugged again, and she ripped through the blankets into a cold, dark room.

A single light turned on, and Madame Kovarian stood over her.

Even when River stood, her frame was barely half the size of Kovarians. She looked down and found hands of a child. They were dirty, and a bruise was fading on her forearm. She couldn't remember getting it.

"Melody Pond," Madame said. Her voice was cross. I looked up into her eyes again. "Melody, you've been very, very bad."

"I have?" I asked without thinking. It wasn't my voice that spoke. At least, it wasn't my voice anymore.

She sneered at me. "You will pay for what you've done."

Madame raised a hand and pointed it behind me. I knew not to turn around, but I did. Before I could see what was there, a cold hand covered my eyes and forehead.

I screamed and tried to find the arm the hand was attatched to, but nothing was there.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Stop!"

The hand fell away, and only cool sweat was left on my forehead. I looked around, trying to find my attacker, but nothing was there.

Hands grabbed my shoulders.

"River?" said The Doctor.

I tried to pull away from the hands. "Doctor! I'm- I'm-" Where were the words I was looking for? They seemed to escape me. Panic raced through every inch of me, and I fought to get away, but something was behind me. And there was nothing underneath me. Was my attacker holding me to the wall?

"River, wake up!" The Doctor said.

I pushed hard against my attacker that I still could not see. It was too dark, or something was covering my eyes. I couldn't tell.

"Melody!" The Doctor said. "It's just me!"

My attacker grabbed me and pulled me from whatever I was against. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. The contact hurt my aching body. Had I been in a fight? I hurt so much.

I pushed away. He must be trying to strangle me!

"Help!" I managed. "Doctor!"

"It's just me," my attacker whispered in my ear, and I realized that he was The Doctor.

I relaxed a bit, realizing I'd panicked for no reason. "Don't do that to me," I commanded.

Perspective began to dawn on me. I was laying down. I was on a bed. That was what had been against my back. The Doctor must have woken me from-

"You were having a nightmare," he said. "It must be the fever. I tried to bring it down, but you pulled the washcloth off your forehead."

A washcloth? Was that the hand over my eyes?

I blinked a few times, trying to focus my eyes. First came the light. Then, shapes. Finally, the room fully formed in front of my throbbing head. I was in the TARDIS. And, I remembered, I was sick.

"Oh God," I muttered. "I must have acted like a total idiot."

He put a hand on my head, stroking my hair. "What was the dream about?"

"What did you hear?"

His lips parted into a vaugely rectangular shape. I narrowed my eyes, and he answered. "You talked aloud."

Oh.

I turned my face away so he couldn't meet my eyes, and he kept stroking my hair. My hearts still beat hard in my chest, and I still felt a tiny bit shaky. Most of what I felt, though, was cold and sick. And The Doctor was right here stroking my hair.

"Do you want some water or something?" he asked.

"That would be nice," I said. He climbed off the bed.

"Food? I could make soup or toast or something. That's what people eat when they're sick, right?"

I still didn't look at him. "Yeah. Sure. Soup."

He touched my chin, lightly pulling me to look at him. I gave in, and he stared at me. "River, are you okay?"

I nodded. "Sorry. I'm fine." I smiled to prove it to him.

He didn't look convinced but let go of my chin. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

The Doctor left me with one last worried look.

I listened to his footsteps. They were quick against the hall floor, but soup took maybe ten minutes? Or was it five? I couldn't remember. Either way, I had a few minutes to be alone.

When I heard him turn a corner, I sat up. And when he sounded far enough away, I pulled my legs from the blankets and forced myself to stand.

Vertigo made me grab at the edge of the mattress, but once I caught my balance, I stood on my own. He'd somehow gotten the vortex manipulator off my wrist -who knows when- but we were in the TARDIS.

I was getting out of here whether he liked it or not.