"Doctor," Amy's feeble voice slurred. "Doctor?"
She had no idea what happened and was trying to remember what had been going o the last time she was conscious. All she could think of was him. Suddenly, someone was gripping her and bright light filled her useless eyes. It stirred her and awoke her stubbornness like a bucket of cold water being tossed at her head. "Get off," she murmured, not knowing if she was talking to anyone. As her head span but started working slightly, she made out the figures of several people rushing around her. She was on a bed, of sorts, in a room and there were lots of people. That was all she could understand.
As they tried proding her and shining more lights in her eyes, blinding her, Amy struggled more. "Doctor? Where's the Doctor? I need him!" she screamed, arms flopping feebly as she tried to wriggle out of the affirmative grasp of these unknown people. Their clothes looked odd; half way between very futuristic but also awfully ancient. And that smell! It, at first, reminded her of anti-septic, but, as she grew more conscious, Amy recognized the distinct smell of old, worn in wellington boots. She knew that smell well enough, due to the frequent heavy rainfall in Leadworth often making high heels impossible to wear. They stank of it. Everything stank of it, and what was worst, Amy stank of it! She needed to get away.
The room was emitting a lot of noise, and as more people came rushing in to help, it attracted the attention of a certain timelord who came dashing down the rows of rooms crying, "AMY!"
He arrived just as they had prepared a slightly large dose of somniatitius, an advanced sleeping drug, generally only used on the most restless of patients. As people struggled to restrain her arm, the needle was lowered and about to be inserted when he crashed through doors shouting Amy's name. She instantly stopped and lay still, tear running from her eyes. They all stopped to see what the intrusion was about. "Is she ok?" he demanded standing on tip toes to see over the crowd. From the silence and lack of movement now, he assumed that there was either nothing they could do or nothing that needed to be done and he simply pushed through the array of people. One man looked as if he was going to say something but one stern glance from the Doctor and he knew to be quiet.
"Amy," he said, in a high pitched, concerned voice at seeing the state she was in. "Are you all finished now?" he asked, glaring at everyone. Some mumbled something incomprehensible while others just stood, still staring in awe at his authoritative presence. "Great. I'd appreciate if you left now," he said in a chirpier, somewhat fake voice.
They all turned to leave except one who started, "I really just need to…"
"Please," the Doctor stated, looking over his shoulder, hoping she'd understand. Seeing his pleading face, she turned on her heel and walked away. Amy noticed something strange about her but her mind was concentrating on other things.
"Doctor. You came. A bit late again though," she sobered into his chest
"Shhh, Amy. It's ok now," he sighed in relief. She could feel his hearts beating at an incredible pace and felt guilt but also love for the Doctor at how worried he'd got for her.
"What happened? Where are we? What's that smell? Why were they doing that? Who were they? Where were you? What year is it?" she whimpered before adding, "sorry."
At last remark, the Doctor pulled away and held Amy's beautiful head in his hands. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry I was trying to find fish custard." She pulled a small smile, her whole body shaking.
He sat on the side of the bed, leaned against the surprisingly comfortable wall and let her slope against his arm, while he hugged her, twiddling her lovely, no longer charred hair. They sat there for several hours, in silence, both trying to recover from the experience. Eventually the Doctor said, "We're in about the year four billion twenty eight thousand and 50. Most things that happen along the time span of the years 4 billion to 5 billion are pretty dull." Amy smiled at hearing his confident, calming, safe feeling voice. "It's the dawn of the most brilliant medical technology advancements since your time and we're in the Daranel Centre of the Awarded Medical Advancements. Basically fancy name for a pretty brilliant hospital. Loads of the best doctors, most pretty arrogant think they know it alls." Amy tapped his shoulder.
"Hm?" he asked.
"Are they know it alls?" Amy enquired, slightly worried in case it turned out she was being treated by a bunch of incompetent students.
"Well, yes, but don't let on that I think that," he grinned. "In the TARDIS you got "attacked" by Bruno. Do you remember that?"
Amy thought for a moment, barely remembering where she was, although she knew the Doctor had just told her. "I remember a big … thing … and some blurry stuff… then," she paused, "then collapsing in your arms." She smiled at remembering how heroic he had been.
"Don't worry. You're probably just tired. It should come back to you. But you vomited on my bow tie," he scowled, knowing Amy would enjoy that part.
"Serves it right. At least one good thing came out of this then," she giggled, fiddling with his new, equally as silly bow tie.
"Bow ties are cool! Had to wash it quite a few times to get the smell off though. And the stain. Any way, some people here owed me a favour and you didn't look like you were going to be waking up any time soon. Turned out Bruno had done you quite a lot of damage. It wasn't nice. I'm surprised how long it took before you collapsed – mad impossible Amy." He smiled at her, remembering the night they met, the magical Amelia Pond, and the fish custard she made. "I'd really like some of that fish custard right now," he said out loud. Amy, who was nearly asleep again, whipped her head around to look at the Doctor in shock and confusion.
"I'm lying in a hospital bed, nearly dead after some psycho nurses tried to put me to sleep and all you can think of is fish custard!" she yelled at her mad man, a slight hint of a smile breaking through that she was trying ever so badly to not let through. Sometimes he said some of the most insane things, marvelous things and the most ignorant things, but she still loved how they were always uniquely Doctorish. He never failed to amaze her.
"Sorry! It sounded ok in my head, I was just. Oh, Gallifreyan minds are complicated. We can think over 7,432 different thoughts in just a few minute. It's brilliant but extraordinarily confusing at times. Sometimes the thoughts get … muddled," he said in his defense.
"Hospital bed," Amy challenged.
"Over 7,432 different thoughts."
"Because of your little friend."
"All whizzing around my mind.
"Crazy nurses about to stick needles in me."
"I abandoned fish custard for you.
"You know you're loosing, don't you?"
"Um … yes," he smirked, slightly humiliated.
"Your "brilliant mind" is nothing compared to mine, and I'm just a simple human," she teased, rather enjoying watching the Doctor's embarrassed expression.
"Well that's why you're mad, impossible, Amelia Pond," he finished.
They sat, staring into each other in the eyes for some time, just trying to get into each other's minds for just a moment before something started bleeping in the Doctor's jacket. He jumped off the bed hurriedly, leaving Amy startled, nearly falling on the floor. "Oh yes! I need that. That. What is it?" he asked himself, going into one of his self question and answer modes.
"Don't you know what it is?" Amy asked desperately trying to calm him down, in case another nurse came in to sedate him too.
"How would I know what it is? I have loads of bleepy things," he said, as though that was obvious. He turned on the spot, hitting his jacket to feel for what was inside the pockets. "Not there, not there and AHA," he cried triumphantly, pulling something out of his pocket. "Or not," he muttered as the object in question turned out to be a purring tabby cat, who seemed quite happy to be out in the light. "I was meaning to return him!," he added as he saw Amy's disapproving face and he gently returned him to his pocket again, a clawed paw stretching out warningly and as the Doctor went to push it back he caught hold of something, along with the cat again, who scampered out the door, hissing as he went. "Gotcha!" he said, trying to not let Amy see. He read the small screen then hastily placed it back in his pocket.
"What was it?" Amy asked curiously.
"Oh nothing. Vortex stabilizer alarm. Nothing really," he hurried.
"Doctor, are you lying?" Army sternly demanded.
"Amy, you know me too well," he smiled, "but no." It isn't entirely a lie he rationalized.
"So, what does it do?" Amy was trying to trick him out, and he new it. He tried to dodge the question.
"Not much really. Just some stuff," he answered, hoping she would move on, for both their sakes.
"Stuff?" she repeated.
"Yep. Just some regular space stuff… stuff. Nothing for you to be worrying about. You need to rest for now," the Doctor jumbled. Amy let it slip, but was still curious as he tucked her back in.
It bleeped again. Frustrated, the Doctor went outside this time to read it and stood there for a good minute or two. When he returned, Amy was ready to question him, her mouth already open to speak when the Doctor put a finger to her lips and said innocently and simply, "Just the TARDIS telling me some fish fingers are done." Amy seemed satisfied as he laid down next to her, being careful not to lie on any wires attached to her body. He stroked her lovely long hair, concentrating on flickered curls and the deep colour. She was a stubborn friend, but she was his stubborn friend, not that Amy would object to being anything more. She settled down, head under his chin, re-listening to everything he had said in her mind. She loved hearing him ramble on about nothing and everything, staring into his deep, meaningful eyes. They were somehow filled with an unbearable sadness, that Amy couldn't understand, but gave her such hope every second they flickered into her sight. She loved hearing all the complicated words and phrases he said, not that she understood them, of course, like vortex stabilizer alarm and … fish fingers? She shot up suddenly, knocking the Doctor's chin, which he groaned about.
"Second time you've done that. First the crow bar now" he started.
"Shut up," she ordered, the Doctor instantly obeying like a little puppy dog. "You said vortex stabilizer alarm."
"Yes," he said slowly, dreading what could come next.
"So what's so vortexy about fish fingers?" she asked, knowing that there was something he was hiding from her. Her eye brow was raised and the Doctor knew he'd have a job dragging it back down.
"It does other stuff as well. Yeh, like I said stuff," he swallowed, hoping she wouldn't notice. But like Amy Pond, she noticed every little detail about her raggedy doctor, who she had known in her mind and play for years. It seamed a dodgy, but knowing the doctor, too true explanation.
"What aren't you telling me?" she tried, doubting she'd get a plausible response.
"Amy," he pleaded, thinking quickly. He paused. "I'm really hungry and would kill for some fish custard at the moment."
Amy sighed and was forced to believe him. "So, I suppose you better go and get them out of the oven. We don't want any more accidents in the TARDIS do we?" She sighed and laid her head against his arm again. After a moment, she moved away and nudged him gently. "You'd better go then." She knew there was no point debating to come with him once she noticed some strange close fitting fluid filled gloves on her hands. She supposed they were to heal the burns. The Doctor saw the disappointed look on her face. Too many times people had let her down or lied to her. Including him. This was the least he could do.
"No, I'll stay with you until you're asleep." Amy's face lit up at this and she snuggled deep into his arm, playing along to get to sleep quickly. She wouldn't want these imaginary fish fingers burnt after all, would she?
"Thank you," she murmured.
After a pause, he whispered in her ear, "Least I can do."
Gently, he stroked her hair and watched her easy breathing. He saw on a monitor when she was asleep and stayed a few minutes more. Placing her head on the pillow behind her, the Doctor carefully removed himself from the bed. He quietly walked tip toed out of the room then broke into a sprint down the hall to the entrance. He ran to the TARDIS, key in hand and tripping as he ran to the controls.
"Ok, old girl, what did you get for me? Is it still there?" he questioned his machine. He fell silent. "This is bad. Very bad!"
He yanked a switch. "Geronimo!"