The Doctor's Care-r (Secret Santa for Possum)

[•.*°•☆. Q .☆•°*.•]

So, leave it to me to wait until the actual last minute to finish this gift. It's mostly caretaking and not particularly sneeze-heavy, but I do hope you enjoy it! As I've made you wait long enough already, here is, without further ado, The Doctor's Care-r.

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The lights were dim in the console room of the TARDIS. The Doctor tended to keep them dim and blue these days. Clara Oswald walked around the control panel in circles, mentally guessing and making up what different switches and nobs did, and watching the console lights blink and flicker at a steady, rhythmic rate. The doctor sat on the topmost step of the stairs that led away from the console area, to the main room’s lower level. He sat with his elbows resting on his lap, hands folded in a casual steeple before him, and stared vacantly off into the distance. He did this sometimes, when he was troubled, or feeling broody. Clara wondered when he was going to tell her what it was this time, or if she’d have to go over there and ask him about it, herself.

“Clara…” he said, without so much as looking at her. Well, that was her cue. She hastened to his side, and crouched down to sit next to him on the top step.

“Yes, Doctor?” she said.

“Clara…” he repeated, his next breath wheezing quietly on the inhale, “I think I may be dying.”

She blinked at him with some concern and bewilderment, unsure yet as to whether she ought to be very alarmed. “Dying? But how could that be possible? You’ve only just—I mean you haven’t even been sick,” she said, searching his face as though she would be able to tell if he truly was dying just by looking at him. He looked upwards slightly, at that statement.

“Sick?” he said, half or mostly to himself. A muffled cough built up in his chest and escaped him in short wheezy barks, met with cupped hands. “Yes… that’s the one.” he said. Clara realized some haziness or fog had come over him that he hadn’t been exhibiting earlier. Truth be told, he did look a bit peaky.

“So, you’re sick,” she clarified. The doctor merely sighed, and gave a little nod, before hanging his head between his hands and giving a pitiful sniffle.

“And you aren’t dying?” she made sure. He looked up at her, his usually steel-sharp eyes looking rather all watery today.

“I can’t be sure,” he said, dramatically. Clara huffed a little sigh, herself. Well, it seemed all her years nannying would be put to use, at least.

“Alright. Up you get,” she said, herself standing, and then trying to haul him up by the elbow. He looked up at her in confusion, apparently unable to understand why she was taking him away from his favorite sulky location at a time like this.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he clambered slowly to his feet.

“You’re going to have a lie-down, and I’m going to put on some tea.” she stated.

“I am not,” he said, but he didn’t put up too much of a struggle as she dragged him to her bedroom in the TARDIS. She didn’t know where his was, and since hers had a small kitchen attachment anyways it was just as well. She led him to her bed, and helpfully guided him into it. Her motions were quick and businesslike, but not terribly forceful. More like gentle, but efficient.

“I’m not going to just lay here, Clara, too many planets are in peril right at this very moment- huh…HAE-IISCH!” he protested, cutting himself off with a terrible sneeze. He groaned as she pressed him lightly back down, and pulled the comforter up to cover him.

“Bless you,” she said quickly, and then, “Doctor, you travel through time. There will be plenty of peril when you’re well again, and if there isn’t, you can always pop back and save the day later. Earlier. You know what I mean.” And with that, she started for the kitchen to put on that pot of tea.

“That’s not how it works,” he called back over the pillow he found himself resting his head on.

“Yes it is. Now get some rest.” she said.

He awakened with gasp and a massive sneeze, as if his nose had been saving up on him while he napped. “Huhhh… hHEI-AAASCHZ!”

Clara, sitting across from her bed on the sofa, gave a bit of a start, but otherwise barely looked up from reading her novel when he stirred.

“Bless you,” she intoned, turning a page.

“What happened?” he asked, disoriented, sitting up in her bed and staring around. “Why in your bedroom… why is your bedroom doing the flips?” he managed.

She set her book down on the cushion next to her and got up. She went over to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him back into a laying position, making soft hushing noises at him to keep him from fighting her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she then touched the inside of her wrist to his forehead.

“You’ve got a bit of a fever,” she said, taking her hand back. It rested casually on his chest, over the blankets. “You should drink something.” she said. He looked up at her blearily.

“Drink… something…” he repeated. She patted him lightly on the chest and got up.

“I made some tea. Well, it’s gone cold, but I did put on some more. How do you take it?” she called to him.

“I don’t drink tea,” the doctor said, sounding much nearer than he ought to, and she turned to find him standing at the entryway to her little kitchen area, leaning against the doorframe with one forearm.

“Doctor, you should be in bed.” she told him.

“I don’t drink tea, and I don’t get sick,” he insisted, “200 years. That’s the last time I was sick, and I forced myself to get better.”

“You sat on the floor of that rubbish house for a week and did nothing but cough and talk to your bed.” she corrected. He gave her a dirty look for remembering.

“Three sugars.” he said, grudgingly. Clara plopped three sugar cubes into a little cup and poured the hot tea over them, then ushered the doctor back into her room, where he slumped down into her bed once more. He sat with his legs over the side of the bed as if it were a chair, so that he could take his tea.

“Ha-ERSCHUH!” he sneezed again, into the crook of his arm.

“Bless you,” Clara said, then handed him his mug.

“Thank you,” he said, for both the tea and the blessing at once. He took a sip, and looked up at her over the top of his teacup.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Tea?” she said, helpfully.

“This is not tea,” he said, putting his mug down on the bedside table. “Tea does not taste like that.”

“Of course it does. Well, maybe not breakfast tea, but this is get-well-soon tea. It has lemon, and Echinacea.” Clara explained.

The doctor looked at her skeptically and took the cup back from her nightstand, taking a proper drink. All the while he stared at her as if to say, ‘I am only drinking this to humor you.’

“Good.” she praised him, and then sat back down on the couch, and picked back up her book, and read while the Doctor sipped his tea and went back to sleep.

[Vintagedarling]

This is super awesome!! I love how you have Clara caring, but not easily showing it, with the startled book scene! And, with the Doctor sick but still stubborn!!! Great writing!!!

[froglatte]

Okay, you know those gifs of the dogs that are wagging their tails so hard that their whole bodies are vibrating? That was me when I saw this pop up in the new content feed. Thank you so much! I've been needing some new DW sickfic and there is so little out there with my Twelvie in it. So of course I loved this and have already read it four or five times. *hugs story to chest*

So many sweet and funny little moments in it, like the confusion in the beginning, as if there was a subtle difference between "sick" and "dying" and he just couldn't grasp which one it was. Really nice dialogue too. I particularly loved this:

“I don’t drink tea, and I don’t get sick,” he insisted, “200 years. That’s the last time I was sick, and I forced myself to get better.”

“You sat on the floor of that rubbish house for a week and did nothing but cough and talk to your bed.” she corrected. He gave her a dirty look for remembering.

Perfect. I could hear it in their voices. Your story was worth the wait. Thank you so so much!

Edited January 7, 2015 by possum

[Garnet]

So I totally missed that this was fanfic until I was already in it too deep noooo but despite knowing nothing about Dr. Who, I super loved it! Great banter, fussy and quirky without being annoyingly petulant, and those sneeze spellings were a thing of beauty.

[•.*°•☆. Q .☆•°*.•]

Okay, you know those gifs of the dogs that are wagging their tails so hard that their whole bodies are vibrating? That was me when I saw this pop up in the new content feed. Thank you so much! I've been needing some new DW sickfic and there is so little out there with my Twelvie in it. So of course I loved this and have already read it four or five times. *hugs story to chest*

So many sweet and funny little moments in it, like the confusion in the beginning, as if there was a subtle difference between "sick" and "dying" and he just couldn't grasp which one it was. Really nice dialogue too. I particularly loved this:

“I don’t drink tea, and I don’t get sick,” he insisted, “200 years. That’s the last time I was sick, and I forced myself to get better.”

“You sat on the floor of that rubbish house for a week and did nothing but cough and talk to your bed.” she corrected. He gave her a dirty look for remembering.

Perfect. I could hear it in their voices. Your story was worth the wait. Thank you so so much!

Wheee! I'm so happy you liked it, possum! Merry Happy!

This is super awesome!! I love how you have Clara caring, but not easily showing it, with the startled book scene! And, with the Doctor sick but still stubborn!!! Great writing!!!

Thank you!!

So I totally missed that this was fanfic until I was already in it too deep noooo but despite knowing nothing about Dr. Who, I super loved it! Great banter, fussy and quirky without being annoyingly petulant, and those sneeze spellings were a thing of beauty.

Hahaha oh noooo haha woops! Oh man I'm so happy you loved it tho!! Compliments on spellings mean a lot to me coming from you you are like the master of them thank you so much

[Vongola Undicesimo]

Ooooohhh this is so cute! These two are precious.

[luckyleprechaun]

I love this! I feel like Twelve would be such a grump sick, and this just makes me SQUEE!!!!