3

"Y'know, I haven't seen the Doctor at all today," Amy commented.

"Which usually isn't unusual at all-" Rory began.

"If we were at home. But instead, we're on the TARDIS," Amy cut her husband off.

After they'd both recovered from their nasty bout with the flu, the least they could do to show gratitude to their Time Lord friend was to travel with him for a while. To be honest, it was just as much a favor for them as for him. Though it had been a while since they'd traveled with the Doctor full-time, exploring the universe at his side was the highlight of their lives.

Now, however, they were down to exploring the TARDIS without their bowtie-clad Time Lord. Both found themselves more than a little worried; their Doctor wasn't exactly the type to be brooding in his room, even in his grimmest moods.

"Let's look for him," suggested Rory. Amy nodded, pushing the nearest door open.

The TARDIS must've wanted them to find him, because there he was. And how miserable he looked! His eyes were crammed shut, his cheeks were flushed, his teeth were chattering, and his nose looked a bit red.

"I didn't know he could get the flu," Amy commented to Rory quietly.

"Not the flu, Pond! It's Triskellium Shivering Disease, which Time Lords can catch-" he replied, opening his eyes sitting up to look at her. Sadly, this was almost immediately interrupted by a fit of nasty coughing.

Amy and Rory looked at each other, seeming to share a moment of nonverbal communication which came with a long and fruitful marriage, then turned on their heels at once and walked out of the room. The Doctor sighed, slamming his eyes shut and pulling the blanket closer to himself and continuing to shiver. He wished they hadn't left and left him alone. Their mere presence comforted him more than he cared to admit.

Not even five minutes later, the door banged open once more. The Doctor soon became aware of a cool cloth pressed against his forehead, the feeling incredibly refreshing against his burning skin.

"What kinds of medicine are you NOT allergic to?" he heard Rory asking by his ear. "The TARDIS can help me find them, if you'd like."

Between coughs, he managed to get a name out, and Rory was off before he could open his eyes to see if the young human had been there in the first place. Almost as soon as Rory had gone, the Doctor could hear Amy's voice at the end of his bed.

"Let us take care of you a bit, Raggedy Man," she declared, setting something down at the end of his bed. "I brought you some soup. Hope you like chicken noodle."

Author's note: If anyone's been following this, thank you. Also, apologies for the VERY long wait for this last chapter. I spent a long discouraged by the lack of feedback I received. Oh well; it took me a long time to build up a fanbase on my last profile...but that's a different story.

As I alluded to in my first chapter, I am a sucker for sick!fics. And indeed for most types of hurt/comfort fics, particularly those heavy on the comfort. As this is my first shot at writing one, I hope you will all take just a moment and tell me what I did right, what I did wrong, and generally any constructive criticism you might have.

Thank you for your time! I hope you enjoyed this!