A/N - Hello! This is something that pounced on me in the car while I was listening to The Beatles. It's kind of writing itself. Let me know what you think, etc. etc. I'm a feedback junkie. I'm aware that it's short and probably full of errors, but it's late, and I'm tired.
This is set somewhere in the beginning of Series Five, pre-Rory. It just turned out like that, don't hate me.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who, I am just a sad fangirl with no life. Nor do I own The Beatles (Paul and Ringo, I guess), I am just a sad fangirl who has no life but still gets inspired.
"Come on, come on; where's a TARDIS key when you need one?"
"Fast as you like, Doctor."
"I know it's here somewhere -"
The Doctor gave up searching his pockets and snapped his fingers. The TARDIS door swung open and two figures dived inside, slamming the door just in time for a hunting knife to land, quivering, where the Doctor's head had been just moments before.
"Next time you can try that before emptying your hundreds of pockets, yes?" Amy said crossly.
"My TARDIS, my decisions," the Doctor grinned.
"Well, if I looked like you, I wouldn't mind dying so much either," Amy quipped.
"Shut it, Pond." He shoved her playfully and bounded up the steps to pilot the TARDIS back into the Time Vortex before the owner of the hunting knife caught up with them.
Several stomach-churning minutes later, they were drifting in deep space as the Doctor went below the glass floor to take care of some rewiring. Amy was sitting on a chair, waiting for her stomach to stop doing somersaults and trying to regain control of her balance. She felt very dizzy, and was certain that the TARDIS had gone upside-down several times. When she asked the Doctor about this, he quickly changed the subject, which only reaffirmed Amy's conviction.
The TARDIS hummed unusually loudly and the Doctor reappeared in an instant, frowning in concern.
"What's up, dear?" he said, flicking a switch on the console. The TARDIS hummed more loudly, the note increasing in pitch. "Sorry, sorry; I should have known. Let's see what's the matter." He pulled the scanner round and ran a couple of diagnostics. Amy left her seat, worried at the Doctor's expression, which quite clearly said that something was very, very wrong.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"No idea," the Doctor said truthfully, dashing around the console to push a few buttons. The TARDIS screeched like a microphone with feedback and he quickly returned the buttons to their off-positions as Amy winced.
"Why is she doing that?" Amy said, feeling fairly sure that her hearing was permanently damaged.
"She's in pain," the Doctor said, frowning and laying a loving hand on the console. "What's wrong old girl, hey? Come on. I know you can hear me, so tell me what's wrong. I can fix you."
"Doctor, please tell me what's going on," Amy said.
"Shut up," he silenced her.
"No, seriously, shut up, I'm trying to listen," the Doctor held up his hand to prevent her from talking again and closed his eyes, trying to investigate the TARDIS more thoroughly through their telepathic link.
Suddenly, his head was filled with an awful, high-pitched screeching, an endless, agonizing sound that reverberated between his ears and drowned out everything else in existence. He fell to his knees, clutching his head, and collapsed to the floor with a scream of pain as Amy shook his shoulder desperately, shouting for him to open his eyes. She slapped him twice in an effort to make him open his eyes, but nothing happened. The Doctor remained in a heap on the floor, still holding his hands tight over his ears and seemingly oblivious to everything else around him. He yelled again, feeling sick. He wasn't sure how much more pain he could take.
As quickly as it had started, it stopped, leaving nothing but a faint ringing in his ears as he gave up, and fell backwards into unconsciousness.
Amy breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed, thinking that whatever had been bothering him had left, but when he remained unconscious and floppy, she grew worried again and tried to bring him round. Nothing worked - not even threatening to get up and pilot the TARDIS to whoever could help there and then.
She wiped away a tear and was on the verge of giving up when a groan from the floor announced the Doctor's return to his conscious mind. He gritted his teeth and blinked a few times, shielding his eyes from the bright lights, and at the same time demonstrated all the signs of someone who was suffering from a severe headache.
"Next time I pass out, I'd prefer to wake up in a nice comfy bed than the floor," he said grumpily.
"Oh yes, because let's face it, it would be so easy for me to carry you up a ladder because you insist on having a bunk bed," Amy said sarcastically. "Are you all right?"
"Bunk beds are cool," the Doctor muttered. Amy smiled briefly, wondering how he managed to remain ridiculous even when he was in pain. He grimaced as another wave of pain washed over him. "And no, I am not all right."
A/N - Show your stripes and leave me a review? Fanks lovelies. Oh, and tell me if you want more, or if I should just go and die in a hole now and stop shaming humanity.