donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2008-12-05 10:19 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2008-12-05 10:19 pm
Entry tags:
Not the Same
Title: Not the Same
Pairing/Warning/Rating: Doctor Who fandom, vague spoilers for Five's episodes, rated G
Word Count: 617
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_medley_
Summary: When Turlough fell ill Tegan began to worry, while the Doctor tried not to blame himself.
Author's Note: Written for day six of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
consci_fan_mo
“Do you think he’ll be all right, Doctor?” Tegan’s usual indifference and exasperation was belied by her worried tone.
The Doctor paused, shifting so that he was carrying more of Turlough’s weight. “The quicker we can get him to the TARDIS and start treatments the better. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” They’d all eaten the same thing, had been together the whole time, but on the way back to the TARDIS Turlough had begun to shown symptoms of being unwell. First shortness of breath, then coughing, followed by delirium and fever. There were reasons for that of course, but it did bode ill for a quick recovery. He glanced down. Turlough’s head hung limp, like he could no longer support it himself and the Doctor used his free hand to press it against his shoulder, trying not to show his concern at the heat that seemed to be pouring off the young man. “Turlough?” he called, quietly.
Turlough showed no sign of hearing him. His eyes remained closed as he took stumbling steps, either trusting the Doctor to guide him safely or simply not having the energy to do anything else. The only sound was the worrying wheeze that had preceded the fever, which seemed to be getting louder, his breathing even more labored.
“Doctor?” Tegan sounded truly worried now. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
They rounded a bend in the path and TARDIS came into sight. “I’ve got him, but will you open her up for us?” The Doctor pulled out the key and handed it to Tegan. “Come on, Turlough. We’re almost there.”
Tegan led the way, bustling about, holding one door before running past them to open the next, worry and tension practically rolling off her. She finally stopped once inside Turlough’s room, pulling back the sheets on his bed and standing there, biting her lip as the Doctor lurched in after her and carefully laid Turlough down. “There you go, Turlough. Have you fixed up in a jif!” He reached over, grabbed a tablet and scribbled something on it. “Tegan?”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Go to Nyssa’s room and see if you can find a vial with that symbol on it.” With his attention still on Turlough, it took him a moment to realize that while she took the paper, she hadn’t left the room. Instead, she was looking around. “Tegan?”
She looked up guiltily. “It’s just,” she paused, biting her lip, before continuing in a soft voice, “Adric. This was Adric’s.” She waved her arm, encompassing the tablet and the whole room. “Before. What if....”she started to say, but let the thought drift off.
“Turlough will be fine, Tegan. He just needs a little of what’s in that vial.” The Doctor reached out to pat her lightly on the arm.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders against her fear. “I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll be here,” the Doctor assured her. Once she left he knelt down next to the bed and began loosening Turlough’s tie. “Your physiology, so close to human, but yet not quite. It’s those slight differences that wind up being so important. It’s my fault, really, I should have considered the effect the atmosphere here would have on you. Such a small amount of methane, but enough to make such a difference. It’s all right, Turlough,” he said, carding his fingers through the ginger hair, trying to soothe him, to keep him calm. “We’ll be able to flush it out of your system as soon as Tegan comes back with that compound. Just a few more minutes and you’ll be back to your... erm.. happy, friendly self.” The Doctor sighed, and settled in to wait.
Pairing/Warning/Rating: Doctor Who fandom, vague spoilers for Five's episodes, rated G
Word Count: 617
Beta:
_medley_ Summary: When Turlough fell ill Tegan began to worry, while the Doctor tried not to blame himself.
Author's Note: Written for day six of
consci_fan_mo“Do you think he’ll be all right, Doctor?” Tegan’s usual indifference and exasperation was belied by her worried tone.
The Doctor paused, shifting so that he was carrying more of Turlough’s weight. “The quicker we can get him to the TARDIS and start treatments the better. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” They’d all eaten the same thing, had been together the whole time, but on the way back to the TARDIS Turlough had begun to shown symptoms of being unwell. First shortness of breath, then coughing, followed by delirium and fever. There were reasons for that of course, but it did bode ill for a quick recovery. He glanced down. Turlough’s head hung limp, like he could no longer support it himself and the Doctor used his free hand to press it against his shoulder, trying not to show his concern at the heat that seemed to be pouring off the young man. “Turlough?” he called, quietly.
Turlough showed no sign of hearing him. His eyes remained closed as he took stumbling steps, either trusting the Doctor to guide him safely or simply not having the energy to do anything else. The only sound was the worrying wheeze that had preceded the fever, which seemed to be getting louder, his breathing even more labored.
“Doctor?” Tegan sounded truly worried now. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
They rounded a bend in the path and TARDIS came into sight. “I’ve got him, but will you open her up for us?” The Doctor pulled out the key and handed it to Tegan. “Come on, Turlough. We’re almost there.”
Tegan led the way, bustling about, holding one door before running past them to open the next, worry and tension practically rolling off her. She finally stopped once inside Turlough’s room, pulling back the sheets on his bed and standing there, biting her lip as the Doctor lurched in after her and carefully laid Turlough down. “There you go, Turlough. Have you fixed up in a jif!” He reached over, grabbed a tablet and scribbled something on it. “Tegan?”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Go to Nyssa’s room and see if you can find a vial with that symbol on it.” With his attention still on Turlough, it took him a moment to realize that while she took the paper, she hadn’t left the room. Instead, she was looking around. “Tegan?”
She looked up guiltily. “It’s just,” she paused, biting her lip, before continuing in a soft voice, “Adric. This was Adric’s.” She waved her arm, encompassing the tablet and the whole room. “Before. What if....”she started to say, but let the thought drift off.
“Turlough will be fine, Tegan. He just needs a little of what’s in that vial.” The Doctor reached out to pat her lightly on the arm.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders against her fear. “I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll be here,” the Doctor assured her. Once she left he knelt down next to the bed and began loosening Turlough’s tie. “Your physiology, so close to human, but yet not quite. It’s those slight differences that wind up being so important. It’s my fault, really, I should have considered the effect the atmosphere here would have on you. Such a small amount of methane, but enough to make such a difference. It’s all right, Turlough,” he said, carding his fingers through the ginger hair, trying to soothe him, to keep him calm. “We’ll be able to flush it out of your system as soon as Tegan comes back with that compound. Just a few more minutes and you’ll be back to your... erm.. happy, friendly self.” The Doctor sighed, and settled in to wait.