It's time for a sick fic! What's gonna happen when the Doctor gets sick with a cold and the Ponds take care of him? The ice cream and codeine part was taken from How I Met Your Mother (which I do not own).

Note: I am an American, so forgive me if the British spellings of words are not right.

Disclaimer: Hurky doesn't own Doctor Who, which belongs to the BBC. The ice cream and codeine scene was taken from How I Met Your Mother, which she also does not own. This story is done for funsies and not for profit.

P.S.: Reviews are nice. :-)


Amy and Rory both noticed that lately the Doctor has been acting rather strange lately. At first, his voice began to sound hoarse and croaky, so he would suck on lozenges to help soothe his throat. Next, the Doctor's usually boundless energy became reduced. Normally he would hop, jump, and skip around the TARDIS console but recently he had been sluggishly dragging his feet. Finally, the Doctor began to grow pale, cold, and sweaty. The Doctor would shiver, even in his tweed jacket.

Rory, being a nurse, recognized the Doctor's recent behavior as a sign of an illness, possibly a cold. One day, he finally decided to confront the Time Lord about his recent state of health.

"Doctor, you feeling alright?" asked Rory as the Doctor sleepily tinkered with the controls of the TARDIS.

"What?" The Doctor asked tiredly. "No, Rory, I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle to be exact!"

"Okay then," said Rory, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He still remained with the Doctor, watching him closely. He noticed that the Doctor's normally floppy hair was looking rather frumpy while his green eyes were glassy. The Doctor coughed painfully into the sleeve of his jacket while sniffling. He looked irritatedly at Rory.

"May I help you?" he asked grumpily.

Rory smiled a tiny smile. "Just watching you as you fiddle with the switches and whatnot!" he lied.

The Doctor immediately knew why Rory was still there. He turned around and held onto the console to keep his balance. "Rory, I know you're concerned for my wellbeing, but I assure you, I'm fine!"

"Fine enough to think a Jammy Dodger is a button?" Rory pointed out.

The Doctor looked over and realized there was a Jammy Dodger on his console. He shoved the biscuit off the console and smiled innocently. Without a word, the Doctor continued his work. Within minutes, his vision began to blur. The Doctor tried not to give in to his illness, but he knew he needed rest. He just hated rest. If there was only some way for him to brave the sickness and not have to rest...

Rory looked worriedly at the Doctor. "Are you sure you're alright, Doctor?" he asked.

The Doctor nodded, but with his headache, it caused pain to shoot through his head like daggers.

Amy walked into the room and immediately noticed the Doctor. She ran over to him. "Doctor, let's get you into bed," she suggested calmly.

"No, Amy, I'm fine," the Doctor reassured, until his remaining few ounces of strength began to give out on him.

He began to leave the console room but once his strength gave out, that was it. The Doctor closed his eyes and began to sway back and forth, collapsing into Amy and Rory's open arms. He opened them again.

"Okay, fine," he said in defeat. "I'm sick."

"That's what we thought," Rory said triumphantly. He hated to see sick people walking around like the dead when they should be resting.

Rory and Amy hoisted the Doctor up and each took an arm, draped it around their shoulders, and helped the Doctor walk into his bedroom. Once they got there, the Doctor collapsed onto his bed and curled up against the pillows, closing his eyes without taking off his jacket or his boots.

"Come on, Doctor," said Amy. "Out of those clothes. You need your PJs."

The Doctor grumbled. "You got me into bed. What more do you want from me?"

"Amy's right," said Rory. "Those clothes you have on now are too hot and thick for you. They're not ideal for someone with a cold. You need your pajamas, which are lighter and will at least help you be comfortable. Now, are you going to get into your pajamas or are we going to have to dress you?"

The Doctor remained silent. Rory rolled his eyes while Amy went to the dresser and grabbed a set of light blue pajamas.

"Looks like we'll have to do it ourselves, Rory," Amy said. Rory nodded in agreement.

So, the Ponds immediately began to undress the Doctor. Amy worked on the top part while Rory worked on the bottom part. This was a little easier on them since the Doctor was not protesting anymore. The Doctor would have put up a fight if he weren't so physically weak at the moment. Within minutes, the Doctor was in his pajamas and he burrowed underneath the blankets to a point that he was nearly covered except for the top of his head, closing his eyes.

"There," said Amy, tossing the Doctor's clothes into the laundry hamper and moving his boots to near the bathroom. "Now you can get some rest. Rory and I will be back later."

The Doctor drifted off to sleep as the Ponds left the bedroom, turning off the lights and leaving the door open a crack in case the Doctor needed anything.

Hours later, the Doctor woke up feeling much worse. His head was still pounding, his nose was completely stuffed up, and his throat hurt worse than ever. The Doctor turned on the lamp on the nightstand, opened the little drawer on it, and began to fish around in it. Finally, he found a small silver bell and began to ring it. Rory and Amy immediately arrived.

"What is it, Doctor?" asked Amy.

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something only for a tiny croak to come out. Oh no! he thought in fear, putting a hand on his sore throat. I've lost my voice! He tried to speak again, only for his throat to feel more exhausted, like it had lifted a bunch of weights.

"Hold on," Amy said, running out of the room, heading to the kitchen where the Doctor kept a white dry erase board, some dry erase markers, and a rag cloth. She returned and handed these items to the Doctor. "Here, you can use these to communicate with us."

The Doctor smiled a weak smile and began to write on the dry erase board. He showed what he wrote to the Ponds. Thank you, Amy. Tea, please?

Amy nodded. "I'll be right back," she said, walking out of the room.

The Doctor erased what he wrote to Amy and wrote a new message. Rory, could you find me something for these awful pains?

"Sure, Doctor, I'll go look in the med bay," replied Rory, also leaving the room.

The Doctor closed his eyes and waited for the Ponds to come back. He still felt weak, like someone had sucked all the energy out of him. He lied there and waited until Rory returned with a bottle of pills and Amy followed with a tray of tea and a glass of water. Amy helped the Doctor sit up while Rory got the medicine ready.

"The TARDIS directed me to give you this," said Rory, opening the bottle and shaking out two pills. "It's supposed to help relieve your headache and bring down your fever."

Rory handed them to the Doctor and Amy gave him the glass of water. The Doctor had trouble swallowing but with help from Amy, he was able to get the pills down.

"Good, Doctor," coaxed Amy, gently rubbing the Doctor's back. She handed him his cup of tea, in which the Doctor smiled at her before taking a sip. The hot liquid felt good coming down his throat, very soothing. He smiled at Amy as if to thank her. "Any time."

Soon, the tea was gone and the Doctor fell back asleep. Amy kissed the Doctor on his warm forehead before turning to Rory and smiling at her husband.

"He's like an innocent child," she whispered, trying not to wake the Doctor.

Rory, taking the Doctor's temperature, smiled back and nodded. "Let's just hope for his speedy recovery and we can get back to our Doctor Life."

Unfortunately, the Doctor's recovery was not very speedy. Two days had passed and the Doctor spent them sleeping. His voice eventually did come back, albeit still low and hoarse. The Doctor still felt miserable, especially since he had regained some of his strength and could not sleep as much anymore.

"Aaaaammmmyyyy..." croaked the Doctor from his bed, before succumbing to a fit of coughing.

Amy came in, feeling rather irritated. Ever since the Doctor stopped sleeping as much, he spent a lot of time calling either her or Rory for every little thing, like his pillows needed fluffing, he wanted more tea, he was hungry, etc. "What is it?"

"I was hoping I could have a little bit of ice cream?" the Doctor pleaded with a tiny smile.

"No," Amy flat out said.

"Why not?" whined the Doctor. "Rory got to have some ice cream."

"Because Rory's not sick with a cold!" Amy pointed out. "Your voice still needs to get better. It's soup and tea for you until you're better."

"But Amy, I'm already better!" lied the Doctor, trying to sit up in bed.

The TARDIS hummed sharply and shook. The Doctor wagged a finger at it. Amy smiled smugly.

"See? Even the TARDIS knows you're lying," said Amy, crossing her arms.

The Doctor fell back onto his pillows, defeated. "Fine. Could I at least have a cuppa?" he asked crossly.

"Now that I will get for you," she said happily. She sauntered out of the Doctor's bedroom and went to the kitchen where Rory was finishing off a bowl of ice cream. Amy's smile disappeared and she screamed in frustration. "Ugh! I can't take him anymore! Do this, do that, rather bossy, don't you think?"

"I know what you mean," Rory said, scraping the remaining melted ice cream from his bowl. "I tried giving him cough medicine and he kept spitting it out because he said it tasted nasty. I nearly wasted a whole bottle just trying to get him to take one dose! Then he tried to throw the bottle at me but he missed."

Amy put the kettle on the stove and waited for it to whistle. "Remember when I said he was like an innocent child?" she asked. "I take that back. Now he's just a spoilt child."

The TARDIS made another noise, calling for Amy to head over to the console room where the time machine had a message for her on the screen, giving her a suggestion. Amy smiled evilly. She knew she shouldn't but she had to do this.

Meanwhile, Rory went to go check up on the Doctor in his bedroom. "So, how are you feeling?" he asked the centuries old man.

"Terrible," answered the Doctor. "Just want this bloody cold to go away so I can feel better and have ice cream. Amy won't let me have any ice cream."

"Well, cold and frozen things are not good for you when you're battling something called a cold," reminded Rory.

The Doctor grabbed a few tissues, blew his nose, and sniffed wetly.

Amy walked in with the tea, smiling. "Hey Doctor," she said. "Here's your tea!"

The Doctor smiled, took his tea, and sipped on it. "Thanks, Amy," he said. "You're a dear."

And so, within a few hours, Amy and Rory went off to do some of their own things. Rory decided to come back into the Doctor's room to see how he was doing only to find him sprawled face down in his bed, tangled in a mess of blankets, and snoring peacefully. This made Rory astounded, as the Doctor had refused to go to sleep earlier. Amy joined Rory as he stared in surprise at the Doctor.

"Well, at least he's sleeping," he said to himself.

"With a little extra help from me," Amy said in a singsong voice.

Rory turned to Amy with a funny look on his face. "Amy, what did you do?" he asked his wife.

"I may have spiked his tea with a bit of codeine," Amy answered in a mischevious voice.

"Amy!" Rory cried in surprise. "That is...actually pretty genius!"

"The TARDIS told me to do it," said Amy. "Guess she got tired of hearing the Doctor whine and complain all day long."

The Ponds both laughed.

The next morning, the Doctor woke up feeling much like his normal self. His nose cleared up, his throat felt much better as he was able to talk normally again, and his headache was gone. He yawned, stretched, and scratched at his chin, which he noticed was a little whiskery. Need to shave when I get a chance, he thought to himself.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," the Doctor said.

Rory poked his head in the room. "Morning, Doctor," he said, stepping in. "Just coming in to check how you're doing. How are you feeling?"

"Much better!" the Doctor answered happily. "The best I've felt in days!"

Amy suddenly burst into the room. "Hey Rory, have you-" she asked until she burst out in laughter. "Doctor, your hair! It's sticking up all over the place!"

The Doctor frowned and blew away his bangs from his face. "Well, you wouldn't look so sharp after three or four days in bed," he shot back. He put his bare feet on the floor and began to rummage through his dresser for clean clothes. "Now that I'm all better, it's back to business as usual!"

And so, the Doctor got himself cleaned up, dressed, and shaven. He was happy to be back in a bowtie after days without one. He soon began to continue his work on the TARDIS where he left off when he suddenly heard the sound of Amy sneezing.

"Gesundheit!" said Rory. "Amy, are you getting sick?"

"No," denied Amy, snifling. "Just some allergies."

The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and scanned Amy with it. "Ah, just as I thought," he said. "You've caught my cold. Into bed with you!"

"Doctor!" whined Amy. "It was just a sneeze!"

Rory snickered when the Doctor suddenly used the sonic screwdriver on him.

"You as well, Rory!" The Doctor concluded. "Looks like I'm going to get to play caretaker for you two!"

"What?" cried Rory. "I'm not sick!"

With that, he coughed into his sleeve. The Doctor gave him a smug look.

"My throat may be a little scratchy," Rory added.

"Come along, Ponds!" The Doctor said, whisking the couple up the stairs. "Get changed into some pajamas and I'll get you both some nice soup."

The Ponds groaned as they marched up the stairs with the Doctor trailing behind them...