AN: Moved into the old university and whatnot today. Regular updates though, mainly because I have the next three chapters pre-written.

DAY 139

In Sickness and in Health

Rose

Rose Tyler was in a bad mood. She was in a bad mood because the Tenth Doctor was ill, her fiancé was ill, and while she had been out at a spa all day pretending like everything was hunky-dory in her life, he had been fighting to breathe in their bed and no one had thought to tell her. Not even Amy Pond (that cow) who had known the Time Lords were sick the whole day and had been right there next to her. Upon hearing the news second hand in Nerve Centre, Rose dropped her tea and teleported straight into her bedroom, which was dark and stiflingly hot.

She went to switch the light on and saw Ten, bleak and grey curled up in bed, a mess. He groaned when the room brightened up. He was awake, at least, that was a start. That was good, right? Or should he be sleeping? Where was Martha, she thought, looking around? Martha Jones was vacant. Probably off tending to one of the other Time Lords, but Rose didn't really care about any of the other Time Lords, she only cared about Ten.

"Bloody hell, have you just been lying here all day?" Rose asked him. She wished that there was a chair to sit in, but they didn't have a chair in their room, it was cramped. She kept meaning to ask him to build them a new one, like Eleven had done for Clara. Had Clara asked for that room? Or had he done it spur of the moment? Why did Ten never do things like that? Maybe when they were married, which would hopefully be as soon as possible, he would.

Rose took off her coat and kicked off her shoes, going to sit down around the other side of the bed. He didn't say anything. "Doctor?"

"Wha'?" he groaned uselessly, his mouth half-open, face sunken into the pillow.

"How do you feel?" she asked. No response. She frowned, then raised her voice like she was talking to a deaf person, "Do you want a cup of tea?" she said loudly.

"Rooooooose," he whinged, turning so that he was face-down in the pillow instead, slumping there. Well, maybe she was worried about him possibly dying before they could actually get married; now this engagement was properly in the works and she had a shimmering rock glaring up from her left hand to prove it, it was quickly becoming the only thing she thought of. Her first wedding she never talked about, especially not to Ten while she was trying to make him plan, had been taken over very quickly by her mother. It got to a point where she and Tentoo just did whatever Jackie wanted them to do because it wasn't worth the arguments. But this time she would call the shots. And the Doctor, obviously…

"Martha's right, then," she said, still speaking loudly. "Don't you just have a cold?"

"I'm dying."

"The time vortex is telling me you're not," she said. Of course it hadn't, but Martha had, and it wasn't like Martha was going to lie. When she mentioned the time vortex he opened his eyes and looked at her. She smiled. "Do you want a flannel, or something?"

"Why would I want a flannel?" he grumbled, moving his head to look at her again, frowning. His whole face was shiny with sweat, and his hair was lank.

"Put on your head. A cold one," she said. Then pressed put the back of her hand against his forehead and he flinched away, "You've got a fever. I think. I can't tell that well. It'll cool you down."

"I don't want a flannel."

"What do you want? Anything?"

"No."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"…No…"

"How about… soup? Porridge? Some of that stuff out of the machines? That stuff's really nutritional, it'll probably be good for you," she suggested, but he just groaned and dragged some of the sheets out from under her so that she nearly fell over, burying his face. Rose sighed and reached over to play with his hair, pushing it up so that it nearly looked the way it did when it was gelled (a look which took him hours in the bathroom every morning to achieve.) It flopped back down when she moved her hand, though, and he pulled the sheets away and met her eyes.

"Have you done something with your face?"

"I've been at a spa, haven't I?"

"With who?"

"With Donna and Amy."

"Donna… where's Donna?" he asked her, and she shrugged.

"How should I know?" He groaned again. "You know, Doctor, I haven't actually promised to be with you in sickness and in health yet. That's a thought, wedding vows… should we write our own?" He didn't seem interested. Typical man. All about the proposal, never about the wedding. And the proposal was the easy bit. Well, perhaps she had never proposed, but there was no need for Ten to have gotten so worked up about it all. She would never say no to him. "Have you had a wash today?" He just made more disgruntled noises. "God, fine, don't talk to your fiancée…"

"Oh, don't be like that."

"I'm not being like anything. You're moping."

"I'm not well, Rose!" he whined, "I've never been not-well before. I can barely breathe. Can't your power make snot cease to exist?"

"I am not going anywhere near your snot, don't care how much I love you."

"Come on."

"No."

"Please?"

"No!" Rose laughed as she protested, the Doctor struggling to sit up to try and put his nose (and the rest of his face) near her, "Get away from me, I don't want to catch your alien diseases."

"I don't believe you."

"You think I wanna get sick from you?" she questioned, leaning towards him, smiling, "I don't want anything to do with you." He smiled slightly and moved to kiss her when somebody thumped on the door. "Stop trying to kiss me while you're all… ew." Because she didn't let him get close enough to infect her (not that she would get infected, but he still had a pretty nasty blocked nose), and because Donna burst through the door, he threw himself back down onto the bed and resigned himself to melancholy once more.

"Is he dying?" Donna asked immediately. She didn't even wait for someone to say she could come in.

"No he's not dying," Rose said.

"I am dying," he mumbled, putting his hands over his face.

"He's not dying," Rose mouthed when he couldn't see, rolling her eyes very exaggeratedly and making a face. Then she remembered something and nudged Ten with her elbow to get his attention again.

"Whaaaaaaaat?" he complained.

"Weren't you just asking where Donna is a second ago?" she asked him.

"Was he?" Donna asked.

"Yeah, and I said I didn't know where you were." Ten said nothing, so Rose prodded him again. He really was a big, lanky mess that evening. Their sheets most definitely needed a wash as soon as possible; luckily the TARDIS did all their laundry for them, just like it did for everybody. Except for Eleven and Clara. They had to suffer with washing their own clothes. Rose found that amusing. "Doctor?"

It was then that they were joined by their second unwelcome guest of the evening – although, Rose didn't think that Ten on his own would be very good company. She supposed he would want rid of Donna, and the newly arrived Captain Jack, but Rose didn't mind having them there at all. Even if she did wish that they would knock and not just fling themselves over-dramatically through the doors at impromptu moments.

Jack came in and then said, "Just wondering if there's any last chance of a three-way before he snuffs it?" nodding at Ten.

"You'd have to ask him," Rose said.

"I am asking him," Jack said, but Ten just continued to wallow silently in the throes of his illness. Tentoo used to get sick, used to catch colds, and he didn't deal with them very well, being genetically human and never vaccinated against anything. Rose had become convinced that he was going to die very young from something very treatable – like chicken pox, potentially lethal when contracted by adults. Or TB. But Ten didn't have that excuse. He was being a baby.

"What are you talking about?" Donna asked.

"Sex, Donna. Heard of it?" Jack remarked. She glared at him. "What? Are you jealous? There's always room for one more. We'll make it a party. Invite Sean."

"Oi," Rose elbowed Ten, "Jack wants to know if we can have an orgy, or something."

"No," he mumbled.

Rose looked at Jack with her best pretend, disappointed expression, and told him, "He said no."

"So you're gonna let me die a virgin? Shame on you."

"Shush, he wants to talk to me," Donna said to Jack. There was a pause in which everyone looked to Ten, still curled up there in the sheets with a pillow on his face, like they were all waiting for him to talk. Then he coughed. She was getting tired of this. She would need another spa break at this rate.

"Honestly, this is exactly like when he regenerated, he was completely out of it for ages."

"Yeah, but then he'll have had the excuse of, you know, dying."

"I might die," Ten argued, muffled by the pillow. Apparently the only time he could bring himself to speak was when someone questioned the ambiguity of his mortality. Finally, though, he did move the pillow, and Rose snatched it off him so that he couldn't hide himself again, not without exerting the phenomenal amount of energy which it would clearly take him to roll onto his front again. "Donna," he said like he had only just noticed her.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Won't you be my best man?" he asked. Rose frowned, looking at him.

"Uh…" she faltered, then lowered her voice and said, "We haven't discussed this." He completely ignored her.

"Or, best woman, I suppose. Can you do that? Is it allowed?" Ten asked, not looking at Rose. She'd asked him just the other day who he wanted to be his best man and he hadn't said anything decisive. She had honestly been expecting him to pick another version of himself to do it, though she didn't know how much store she set in either of them saying yes. Thirteen would say yes, if she was there, but then, Rose thought Thirteen might say yes to anything.

"You want me to be your best woman?" Donna exclaimed. Ten nodded. "Seriously?" Rose was just looking at him. Was he delusional?

"Who else would I want? You're my best friend."

Then, very theatrically, Jack cleared his throat. He cleared his throat incredibly loudly for at least five full seconds, and then when he stopped, he gawked at Ten, slack-jawed, who looked back innocently. And then with both hands he pointed at his face and said, "Hello!? I'm clearly best man material! I am the best man! Out of all of them, all the men."

"I'm the best man now," Donna said, grinning smugly at Jack, who was mortally offended.

And then Rose got a genius idea, clapping her hands once to get attention and pointing at him, "You can be the maid of honour."

"The maid of honour!?" Jack exclaimed in horror, then he paused, and then repeated a little more thoughtfully, "The maid of honour… hold on…" then he beamed and began to fan himself, "The maid of honour? Really? Me?"

"Yep," said Rose, very unsure of this decision. But what could she do? Jack was probably her closest friend. She would, to be quite honest, love to have him there with her throughout her second big day. After all, he hadn't even been there for the first.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Donna, I'm the maid of honour!"

"I know!" Donna beamed, "And I'm the best man! I get to plan the stag party."

"I get to plan the hen party," Jack said. After the last hen party on the TARDIS – that whole Dalton Lodge fiasco – Rose wasn't sure she wanted a hen party at all anymore. Nothing good could come of people getting drunk on that spaceship. Unless Jack did something different – like going to a spa. Again. God, she loved spas…

"This is gonna be the best wedding ever," Donna declared.

"Well you're not planning it, though," Rose pointed out to her, and Donna waved her away, turning to go towards the door. Jack was still muttering to himself, maid of honour, over and over again, and on his way to follow Donna did a very camp twirl in his long coat.

"Seriously, I'll take care of everything," Donna said as she left, an elated Jack in tow.

"I don't really want you to take care of everything. Or anything, really," Rose said.

Donna smiled, nodded, and mouthed as she closed the door, "Everything," winking. Then they left, completely distracted from Ten's illness by their own new promotions.

"Brilliant," Rose muttered, slouching down, her arms wrapped around the spare pillow, "Donna and Jack trying to plan our wedding." She looked at Ten, and Ten was smiling.

"What could possibly go wrong?"