The Doctor tiptoed across the hallway, hoping to remain unheard. There were people downstairs, many of them. They were extremely rambunctious, a quality the Doctor was extremely grateful for at this point in time. They would not hear the sound of his uneven footsteps. He winced. The pain in his legs was becoming close to unbearable, but he had no choice but to keep moving forward, despite the pain. There was so much pain. He had never felt true, physical pain before. As long as the TARDIS was around he was able to heal himself in seconds with regeneration energy. However, the TARDIS was not here at the moment. He had no way of healing, no unearthly way of fixing his fractured body. He wondered, faintly, if there was some type of human method that could relieve his symptoms. It was possible. Humans, beautiful, complicatedly simple humans. So unadvanced, and yet they had the cure for anything.
He had reached the end of the hallway and was uncertain which direction to turn. To the left stood a door. To the right, a window identical to the one he had climbed through to enter the house. Outside the window was a telephone wire. He thought briefly that he could use the telephone wire to climb onto the roof of the neighboring house, but quickly dismissed the notion, recognizing that his arm was far too weak for that. He opened the door quietly and entered the room, closing the door behind him.
It was a bedroom, that was for sure. He stepped softly into the center if the room, gazing at his surroundings. This was the room of a dreamer, he gathered, judging by the decorations and the color of the walls. Dark purple. The ceiling was purple too, but with small, shining dots placed randomly, like fireflies. The carpeting was thick and the color of clouds. The exterior wall was made entirely up of glass. It offered a perfect view of the stars. The Doctor took a step closer, intending to go out onto the balcony.
"Excuse me, sir?" A soft voice called to him. He whipped around. In the corner of the room, she stood in the bathroom door, looking at him with confused eyes. The Doctor took a second to gaze at her. This was definitely her room, he could tell that she was also a dreamer. She was the kind of girl you read about in fairytales. He saw it all in her face, the face of a dreamer, the face of a hopeful, blissful dreamer. But there was more than just dreams hidden behind her bright green eyes, he could tell. He could read sadness, heartbreak. She did have dreams, but for every dream there was a nightmare that matched it. He chastised himself mentally; how is it fair for him to know so much about her and she did not even know his name?
"Sir? What are you doing here?" She did not move from the bathroom doorway.
"If I told you, you would never believe me." He ran his fingers through his hair as he said this, knowing how true it was. "What's going on downstairs?"
"We're having a party tonight."
"Oh really? What's the celebration?"
"Today is my 19th birthday." She gazed at him questioningly.
"Oh good for you! Happy birthday! Why aren't you downstairs celebrating?"
"They've forgotten. It's also my parents anniversary today."
"You're trying to tell me that your own parents forgot your birthday?"
"Who are you?" She watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I'm the Doctor."
"Just the Doctor?"
He smiled. "Yes, just the Doctor." His body ached, and for a minute he wondered if his knees would give out from underneath him. And then they did, and he found himself face to face with the girl's bright white carpeting.
"Are you alright?" She was at his side, kneeling beside him. He struggled to sit up, and eventually succeeded with difficultly. His forehead burned. "Have you been injured, Mr. Doctor?" She said with concern.
"Please, just call me Doctor." he gasped, trying in vain to ignore the searing pain coursing throughout his body. "I'm not sure if I am injured, maybe you could help me with that?" He knew it was desperate, but any help was welcome. She glanced over his body once, then pressed firmly on his left leg. Pain burned through him and he cried out, his vision blurring.
"Your leg is definitely fractured, and I can tell from here that your shoulder isn't completely in its socket either. The damage to your face doesn't seem too extreme, but the leg will mess with you." She walked over to her closet and opened the door, reaching into several bins before finally pulling out a roll of medical wrap. He stared in wonder.
"Do you have medical training?"
"No, but my father does. I've learned a lot from him." She brought the wrap to him and paused for a minute, then gingerly began to roll up the leg of his trousers. He blushed, looking away. Her touch was delicate; it was obvious that she had done this before. His fractured leg was wrapped in no time. She lookeed back at him. "Your shoulder will heal itself, but I can snap it back into socket if you're looking for quick relief." He nodded, amazed once again at the simplistic yet effective human treatments. She moved to his shoulder, pressing the area gently. Then she sharply snapped the joint. Pain tore through his veins, but it was quickly gone. He was mostly fixed. Human technology, and the kindness of a stranger.
"Thank you, so so much." He said as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. Though his leg was wrapped, it still was painful to put weight on. "I think I'll be going then."
"You're not healed; a simple piece of fabric isn't going to make a severe fracture disappear!" She called as he headed for the door. "Won't you stay the night?"
He paused, considering this.
"I promise you'll feel better if you just get some rest."
The prospect of rest seemed almost too good to be true. And the prospect of having a friend seemed even better.
"I don't want to intrude." He glanced at her bed, the only one in the room.
"You can sleep on the balcony if you'd like. I saw you looking at the stars earlier." She stepped toward him, then headed for the balcony and motioned for him to follow her. He limped slowly after her as she led him to a purple couch outside. She motioned for him to sit, and he did, relishing the feeling of sitting after a long few days. She handed him blanket and a cup of tea, smiled, and then turned to leave.
"Wait!" He called, and she turned around. "You never told me your name."
"It's May."
"Just May?"
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. He could see pain behind those bright green eyes. "Just May."
"Goodnight, May." He called as she stepped inside.
"Goodnight, Doctor." Came her singsong reply.
"Happy birthday."