Donna was about to say something about it not being that necessary when she was holding it up, but she didn't want Martha to be worrying about her when the Doctor was bleeding and needed attention. She headed back to her bedroom to get the sling, carefully positioned her arm in it, and then went back into the sickbay. The Doctor was lying face down on the bed and Martha was in the process of cutting up his blood saturated T-shirt.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," the Doctor grumbled unhappy about the fuss.

"You had 84 spines in your back. Each of them went in about an inch as far as I can tell from the wounds. 37 of them then had barbs on them and were ripped out of your back so that means you have 47 inch deep puncture wounds and you have 37 inch deep ragged wounds on your back. I ended up having to put a stitch in 11 of them to keep them closed. I may have to stitch the rest of the barbed ones as well. As you move around you're risking them coming open. It looks like the toxin has damages the tissues in the channel of the wound as well so that they're a little vacuous," Martha advised him. "We need to make sure you're careful and we check regularly you certainly don't want any of them to turn into abscesses. I know you're not going to be willing to lie like this until you're healed, so, let's just clean you up and have a look at what is going on underneath all this blood."

Donna moved round and took the Doctor's hand as she sunk onto a stool at the side of his bed. He winced and hissed as Martha washed his back down lightly with a sponge so she could get rid of the blood and some of the ointment. "Your back looks tonnes better," Donna commented feeling a little less worried than she had done. "It was awful before, all bumpy and bleeding and stuff, now it's not as bad."

"It's improving quickly, but we've still got some troublesome wounds over his shoulders," Martha commented as she cleaned over them. "I'm going to have to put a few more stitches in," Martha offered. If they were just shallow wounds she'd not have bothered but they were an inch deep in places and into the muscle underneath, so when he moved and his muscles rippled it was preventing the wounds from closing properly and squeezing blood out. "Do you want me to put local in each one or are you going to be brave?" Martha asked him.

"I'll be brave," he offered.

"Okay," Martha commented. "If you change your mind then let me know." She pulled a trolley over and unrolled a suture kit out. She swabbed the first of the bleeding wounds and then she thread the needle with a bright blue suture cord. Donna watched what she was doing as she pushed the needle through the flesh on one side of the small hole in his back and then up through the wound and the skin on the other side of it. She used her gloved hands to knot the thread and pulled the stitch tight so the wound was closed and a thin line in his flesh rather than the hole. She dabbed it. "First one done, that wasn't too bad was it?"

"No," the Doctor accepted. This time instead of watching what Martha was doing Donna watched the Doctor's expression. His eyes were closed and he looked calm but the tensed when the needle went through and then again when it came out and then as Martha pulled the stitch. By the time Martha had done ten more of the wounds his eyes were permanently screwed shut and Donna could see a tear squeezing out.

"Do you need Martha to stop and give you something to stop it hurting?" Donna asked him and squeezed his hand. He shook his head slightly. Martha carried on. She was going to have to put a stitch into all of the wounds so that they didn't simply open up again each time he moved. It seemed a shame considering he'd have healed them within a couple of days rather than a couple of weeks like a human, but that meant they needed to be closed even more. She thought about switching to glue but they weren't neat cuts, they were where the flesh had been ripped by the barb on the spines so stitches were more liable to hold because she doubted that he was going to be well behaved for long.

As far as the Doctor was concerned it took forever, but Martha finally advised him that it was the last one. He had a vague recall of Donna telling him there were only 12 more spines to take out when in fact there had been 32. Martha cleaned his back. She dabbed some Vaseline on all the stitches so that they didn't dry out and then she coated it with ointment again. She fetched him a different T-shirt and then slowly got him to sit up. He pulled the cut T-shirt off over his arms. He was a bit shocked and a bit repulsed when he actually saw how much blood there was on the back of it. There was little wonder Donna had marched him straight back into Martha but in real terms it certainly wasn't enough to cause any affect, other than to ruin a perfectly good stock T-shirt.

"You're going to need to change your pyjamas as well, but we'll leave you to do that this time," Martha commented. She was content that he was actually alright. "Then, I want to do another blood test just to make sure that you're toxicity levels have dropped off. How is the headache?"

"It's still there, but it's not bad or anything," the Doctor confirmed. "Just an ache," he rubbed his brow. He changed into a clean pair of pyjama bottoms again, not really bothered about getting dressed properly. For once he was going to be quite happy just to lounge around in the TARDIS, though Martha's offer of a cooked breakfast was sounding more and more appealing. When Martha came at him with a ligature and a syringe to take blood from him he frowned at her. "What are you doing with that lot?"

"I'm going to take blood for the TARDIS to analyse your toxicity levels," Martha told him.

"You are not," the Doctor grumbled. "How many times have you done that?"

"Three?" Martha looked puzzled. The Doctor walked over to the machine. He opened a draw and pulled out a pen and then attached a sterile needle tip from a packet and attached it. He then pricked his finger and put a tiny drop of blood on a slide and then shoved that into the machine. The machine analysed the sample of blood and Martha came over and had a look at the results. She smiled slightly when the Doctor grumbled about having his arm drained for a simple analysis.

"Right, well, you're clear of the poisons," Martha assured the Doctor, loud enough that Donna could hear and gain the same kind of relief from the news as she did. "Donna, how's the wrist feeling?"

"It's throbbing a little, but it's okay," Donna offered. "The tablets are working."

"You can have something stronger if you need to?" the Doctor offered.

"I don't want to be sent doolally by medication."

"You travel with him that pretty much suggests that you're doolally already," Martha commented. Donna laughed and nodded as the Doctor frowned. He was about to remind Martha that she had as well, but then he'd be reminded that she'd left him because he'd done little to protect her from the hurt that he caused her. Now he had turned up in her bedroom in the middle of the night expecting her to treat his wounds and she had done and she looked quite content to do so. "Are you two hungry then?"

"I'm getting toward starving," the Doctor confirmed. Donna nodded that she was hungry as well. Martha led them out of the TARDIS into her flat. She sat them down at the kitchen table and put the kettle on. Then she hunted through the fridge to find the breakfast things. She had eggs, bacon, sausages, and mushrooms. In the cupboard she located a tin of beans and brought that out as well.

"So, what were you doing in the jungle anyway?" Martha asked the Doctor curiously. "Donna said something about treasure hunting?"

"The treasure of the Great Mambosa," the Doctor advised.

"And what is that when it's at home?"

"Do you need a hand with anything?" Donna asked her as Martha pulled a couple of pans out of her cupboards and set the grill going.

"No, you sit there and relax," Martha insisted. "Doctor? Who is the Great Mambosa?"

"It's not really whom though sometimes they refer to the elder as the Great Mambosa, in reality it is a tribe of people. They disappeared about a hundred thousand years ago. They were a space faring race long before they should have been, well in advance of any other species in their region of space, and there are indications that they had assistance in their technological development, but they simply disappeared. They vanished without a trace, their great civilisation that stretched across several planetary systems simply fell. No one is quite sure how or why. It is said that the digital history of the planet was also lost, but that there are some scrolls that remain from their ancient days which relate to their prophecies and doctrine, but they have never been found."

"And that is the treasure you're looking for?" Martha checked with him.

"Yeah, I've been half-heartedly looking for it for a couple of centuries now, whenever the whim takes me. I've collected some bits and pieces, a map which was the best bit of information I had, and then yesterday we were on an island and I went to explore a bit and I found some stones that had symbols etched in them that match the map and I realised that we were in the very same chain of islands as was on the map. This morning we set off to go and find it."

"Like proper explorers," Donna added. "Until I aggravated a spine weasel," she commented and then sighed.

"It's not your fault," the Doctor assured her. "It was just one Hell of a grumpy spine weasel." He looked at the bandage on the end of his finger. "I can't believe that it poisoned me and then bit my finger?!"

"You shouldn't have gone poking at it after it had shot 84 spines at you," Donna reminded him.

"Just as well you didn't try to lick it," Martha added.

"That's what I said?!" Donna exclaimed and then laughed. Martha laughed as well and the Doctor grumbled slightly. He didn't know why they all thought that he was going to start licking things.

Martha cooked up a full breakfast and they sat and ate. Martha presented Donna with a camping spork so she could stab, cut, and scoop as required with a single hand. It worked quite well, but it didn't butter toast for her. The Doctor was quick enough to jump in to assist that it showed he was feeling pretty guilty about her injury despite it being no way his fault. He was also quick enough that his back stung him and he hoped he'd not just popped a couple of stitches to ruin another T-shirt. He thought that he should probably go and put a darker one on. Even if he'd not pulled the stitches at all there was still going to be some leaking blood and moisture and a white T-shirt would not look pleasant after a while.

They'd not long finished breakfast when Martha's phone rang. It was clear from the half conversation that it was her mother and the Doctor pulled a bit of a face. Martha confirmed that she was up and out of bed, but that no she wasn't going to go out other than to get some food shopping in, and that she didn't really want to pop into her mother's and no it wasn't really convenient if she popped over, because she had a couple of friends staying over at short notice, no they weren't from UNIT and yes one of them was male, and no there was nothing going on – nothing at all ever.

The Doctor harrumphed slightly at that, but he guessed it wasn't anything he didn't deserve. Martha cleared up the breakfast gear and loaded her slim dishwasher so that she could set it off and have clean plates again later. She was still gradually rebuilding her home life after her last flat had been blown up and then moving out of Tom's house. She had only got herself four plates so far so if they wanted to eat again later not only was she going to have to go and buy some food, but she was also going to have to wash the plates.

She invited Donna and the Doctor to remain in her lounge. She had a three piece suite in there but it had cream covers and the Doctor didn't want to risk sitting on them. He couldn't lie back against anything and though he would have had room to lie on her sofa he didn't want to risk bleeding on them. He didn't want to seem to be ungrateful either, so he wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Would you be more comfortable in the library?" Donna asked him quietly when he was still standing hovering after she'd sat down.

"I don't want to risk getting blood on the sofas if I start to bleed again," the Doctor admitted to her.

"Martha?" Donna got her attention. "You know what he's like. He's not going to sit still and if he pulls any of those stitches again he's going to end up bleeding all over your couch and you don't want that. How about we go through to the library?" she suggested. "I'll make sure he just rests and we can put some movies on or something. Why don't you come and join us?"

"I've got to nip to the shops," Martha advised. "If you're going to be round for a few days I'll stock up."

"I'll make sure you get reimbursed," the Doctor offered.

"Don't be daft, you don't need to go robbing a cash point." Martha chuckled knowing that was likely what the Doctor would end up doing. He might have been daft and ended up getting himself in trouble again, but if there was one thing he'd done over the years with the number of times he'd saved the whole planet it was earn himself a few dinners. It wasn't as if any of them paid him board while they were travelling on the TARDIS. She could put him and Donna up for a few days.

"Go and make yourselves comfortable in the library," Martha instructed. "I'll go and do what I need to do. I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours, and then we can have an afternoon of movies. You're going to be a bit out of time synch as well if you left the jungle at lunch time and arrived here at three in the morning."

The Doctor and Donna went through to the library. Donna fussed to make sure that the Doctor had somewhere to lie down comfortably where he could still see the screen that was up there and so he wasn't lying or twisting his back. The Doctor fussed a little to make sure that Donna was comfortable and she didn't need anything else for her wrist. They both professed to be fine. Donna lounged in a high back winged leather arm chair with her feet up on the end of the sofa that the Doctor was lying along. He was lying half on his side but mostly on his front, hugging a cushion to his chest to keep himself stable.

"What do you want to watch then?" the Doctor asked as he had the controls for the projector. It linked through to the TARDIS database so they could watch practically anything. "Pretty Woman?" he asked her knowing it was a feel good film that Donna enjoyed.

"You don't want to watch Pretty Woman."

"I don't mind," the Doctor commented.

"You normally do," Donna reminded him. "How about Shrek?"

"Okay," the Doctor agreed. He selected the film and put it on and they both watched it giggling together at the funny bits.

By the time the film had finished Donna was dosing in the chair. The Doctor didn't bother moving. He just selected Shrek 2 and set that going as well. He shifted a bit on the couch, not quite comfortable, as his guts thought they might be about to protest the massive breakfast he'd eaten. He felt a little crampy again but he knew to expect it over the next couple of days and it wasn't too bad, he'd just have to put up with it. He brought his knees up and tried his best to concentrate on the film and to ignore it.

Martha returned from the shops. She put all her groceries away. She'd picked up a bottle of wine. If Donna was only taking codeine then she'd be alright to have a glass or two of the wine. She knew the Doctor wouldn't touch the stuff but she'd bought a bottle of banana milkshake and a bottle of chocolate milkshake and as he was unwell she would allow him to mix them both together. With her cupboards stocked and her fridge loaded with enough food to last three or four days she went back through into the library.

The screen in the film was on a menu screen. It was Shrek 2. The history bar at the bottom showed that both Shrek 1 and Shrek 2 had been played through. She went round to see that Donna was in the armchair and was sound asleep. The Doctor was curled up in a ball on the sofa. He wasn't asleep but he had his arms clamped over his abdomen and was shivering and sweating.

"Doctor?" Martha crouched down to the edge of the sofa. "What is it?" She caressed his head.

"Cramps," the Doctor groaned quietly. "God, it's bad."

"In your abdomen?" Martha checked. It was fairly to see that was where he was guarding, but she didn't want to assume. He nodded with his eyes tightly closed as another wave of spasms twisted his insides round. He didn't know why it had come back. It shouldn't have come back. "Move your arms out the way for me?" Martha instructed. She reached in to where he was curled over and gently palpated his abdomen. She wouldn't be able to do a proper examination unless he was on his back, but she could feel that the muscles of his abdominal wall were solid and tight. He moaned as she tried to examine him, but it didn't matter where she touched him, it remained as painful.

Martha went through to the sickbay. She wasn't going to make the Doctor come through with her. She wasn't sure he'd make it, but she picked up some drugs the TARDIS suggested he took, a hot gel pad, and a blanket. She injected a muscle relaxant into his thigh and then she placed the hot gel pad on his taut abdomen under his T-shirt, and then wrapped the blanket over him. She rubbed his upper arm as she perched on the edge of the sofa. "It won't take too long for the drugs to work and for the muscle spasms to go off again," Martha assured him. "When it has I think you're going to have to come through to the sickbay so we can let the TARDIS scan you properly."

"I'll be okay," the Doctor groaned.

"I'm sure that you will be, but you shouldn't have to be struggling so much either," Martha commented.

"The cramps are starting to go off," the Doctor sighed.

"Good," Martha commented. "Just keep still and take deep breaths until they go off completely." She rubbed his shoulder. He wasn't looking particularly well and he was still shivering slightly. "Do you want me to go and get the drug that will help you sleep for a while?" Martha asked him. "It looks like Donna has given up on trying to remain awake."

"She's knackered," the Doctor commented.

"Perhaps the same can be said for you, Doctor?" Martha offered.

"Maybe," the Doctor accepted. "I should be clearing the toxins by now though."

"Then, maybe, we should be going through to the sickbay to find out why you're not?"

"Okay," the Doctor agreed quietly.

"Ease yourself up slowly so that you don't trigger the cramps off again," Martha warned him. She hooked an arm through his and started to help him rise up so he was sitting but he jolted and grimaced and tried to curl again as a pain shot through him. He swallowed the shocked cry at the intensity of it as it speared him through his guts. "What was that?" Martha held him as he grunted.

"Oh no…" the Doctor whispered quietly. "…not oil?"

"Doctor?" Martha didn't know what he was talking about, but the Doctor groaned as he tried to sit up more fully.

"Need to check… the toxin base…" he groaned. He rose to his feet, but he only managed to take three steps toward the library door before he cried out and collapsed to his knees. He grimaced as his hands went down to the left hand side of his lower abdomen. He started to topple forward, his hands still pressed into his gut, so he was going to end up smashing his face into the floor. Martha held him upright.

"Doctor?" Martha took his shoulders to prevent him crashing into the carpet. He groaned and then cried out again. "You need to tell me what is wrong, Doctor," Martha insisted. "What can I do?"

"Can't…" the Doctor grimaced. He put his hands on the floor. Leaning forward so he was on his hands and knees, sucking air in to try and calm down, and to stop the pain, but it spiked him again. Shooting right through the side of his abdomen and through his groin. He tried to adjust his position, to curl up more, but he just cried out. He shuddered and almost collapsed down as his elbows buckled. He managed to catch himself out of sheer determination.

"Doctor?! What's wrong?" Donna suddenly appeared at his opposite side to Martha. He couldn't believe this? He half sobbed as he bowed his head but then the pain reared up again and he grimaced, but as it continued to lance through him he ended up crying out on a ragged breath. "Martha?" Donna looked to the medic for some assurance that the Doctor was going to be alright, but she wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with him.

"Doctor, we need to get you through to the sickbay," Martha told him firmly.

"Can't move…" he hissed. He squeaked a curse he hoped that neither Martha nor Donna heard, of course they both did. He should have known. He should have realised straight away. Why hadn't he realised? He widened his stance, his knees wider apart, his hands on the ground as the pain eased for a moment, but he knew it was just preparing to come back even worse. He took the time to take deep breaths and try to control it, but Martha had other ideas.

"Tell me what is going on," Martha insisted.

"Toxin needs to… be expelled…," the Doctor advised. "Filter organ is… going into spasm… trying to push toxins out… but… receiving area is full… too full… so full…"

"So you need to pee?" Martha asked him and he sobbed as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Okay, do you need to get to the bathroom then?" she tried to be delicate because for some reason he seemed to be embarrassed. If the pain and cramps were the result of either diarrhoea or maybe constipation then she knew it could be that painful. He shook his head. "Then, I don't understand?"

"Toxin… is soluble… in oil… not water," the Doctor advised quietly. He collapsed off his hands and down onto his elbows as the pain shot through him again. "Excreted… in oil based… secretions."

"What oil based secretions?" Martha asked him. "We don't have oil based excretions," she advised him. Urine and sweat were all water based. Greasy skin and hair maybe, but if a human had to get rid of too much oil based stuff then the result was sometimes a very explosive visit to the bathroom that could be uncomfortable, but that was just waste, it wasn't a secretion.

"Time Lords… do," the Doctor whimpered and then cried out with the rising pain levels again. His body was trying to force more of the toxins down so that it could be expelled, but he didn't see how it was going to be expelled. He couldn't. He screamed and pushed his fist into the lower part of his abdomen to try and stop the pain, not caring that he collapsed into the carpet until Martha held him.

"What's wrong with him?" Donna asked.

"I think he is saying that his body is trying to get rid of the toxins as it is supposed to but that the toxin is just building up somewhere else so his body can't get rid of it?" Martha offered. "Doctor? Come on, you need to tell me, what is the oil based secretion that Time Lords have? If I don't know what is wrong I'm not going to know what we can do. What is oil based?" Martha asked him. "You said that Time Lords have an oil based secretion, what is it?" she insisted.

"Male… Time Lords…" the Doctor whined, but his embarrassment was lost as another pain speared him and he cried out.

"Semen?" Martha asked him quietly and he sobbed and nodded desperately wanting the pain to go so he could run away and hide. "Okay." Martha rubbed his arm seeing why he might have been so embarrassed. "Can you sort yourself out?" She didn't know how he would be able to think about that at all.

"Too… long… too much… hurts," the Doctor gasped.

"What is wrong with him?" Donna asked quietly.

"Is it okay if I tell Donna?" Martha asked him. The Doctor just groaned, there wasn't much choice in the matter. He didn't tell her that she couldn't tell Donna and she didn't want Donna to be getting too upset about not knowing what was ailing him. "The toxin from the spine weasel has been removed from his blood supply into an organ ready for it to be expelled from his body," Martha explained. "The problem is that the toxin appears to be oil based rather than water based so it's not going to be peed out as we kind of expected, because that is water based and oil and water don't mix very well. Time Lords apparently have oil based semen."

"I bet that's really slimy," Donna commented and the Doctor guffawed and then cried out as the pain got the better of him. Donna rubbed the back of his head.

"Instead of the toxin being passed as urine it is collecting as oil based ejaculate," Martha explained.

"You're just going to have to stop being shy, get busy, and get rid of it, Doctor," Donna told him.

"Too much… pain," the Doctor groaned. "Too full…"

"We're going to have to do something, Doctor, you certainly can't stay like this. I am going to need to examine you."

"Can't touch…" the Doctor gasped. "Can't… move."

"I'm afraid that you're going to have to," Martha told him. "I can't imagine that hanging like this is going to be doing you any good at all," she advised. "So, I want you to turn round and lean against this cushion," Martha told him. She pulled a cushion down and put it against the base of the sofa, so it would not be harsh on his back, but she thought that the pain in his back that had distracted him from the issues with the toxin was now insignificant to the pain he was experiencing as a result of the toxin building.

"We'll help you," Donna assured him.

"Don't… hurt yourself…" the Doctor worried as Donna eased her unslung arm around him.

"Turn yourself over and then back against the cushion," Martha instructed. She heaved him over as he forced himself to move, crying out as he did so. He wanted to curl up not to lie back, but Martha pushed him back so that he was resting against the cushion. She let him bring his legs up a little. Martha pushed his T-shirt up a bit and pulled his pyjama bottoms down so they were across his hips but he was still covered over. She gently palpated over his abdomen. The whole of his tummy was tight and sore, but when she got close to the lower left hand side where she knew the organ that contained the toxin was he cried out at the pain that pressing down into the muscle caused. Donna sat on the floor next to him and held his hand. She looked away as Martha eased his pyjama trousers down further.

"Christ, Doctor?" Martha had seen him naked several times. Out of a medical interest she'd taken account of what his genitalia looked like. He didn't look that different from a human male. Perhaps a little tidier with his testicles slightly higher up on his body. He had a lower body temperature so they didn't have to dangle as far down, but they remained external. They were normally about the size of a small walnut and his scrotum was wrinkled, loose, and lightly haired. The skin was the same pale cream of the rest of his lower body that she doubted ever saw much sunlight at all, until he came back in shorts anyway. Now his testicles were incredibly swollen. They'd swollen up like a couple of balloons. The skin was tight and purple with bruising and thread veins snaked across them. Instead of being the size of walnuts they were closer to the size and colour of a couple of cricket balls.