The world's not falling apart because of me... [OTA; multiple threads welcome]

[savesherself]

[Sort of wibbly-dated to whenever the rescue groups got back. ...wibbly-dated is totally a valid term.]

With most of the rescue parties in the barracks and probably on their way to a well-deserved rest, the Doctor has managed to get the stream to himself... and he's glad for that. Cross-legged by the edge of the water, he's trying to clean the

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[whateverthemess]

Murphy's come out for a little meditation, away from Harry's worry and the buzz of new people and their rescues. She's tired. Bone tired, actually, but she also doesn't want to let her guard down and take a nap for fear of what will happen if she does. So: meditation. It's relaxation, a form of rest, and for now it'll have to do.

She's tired enough to not see the Doctor until she's tripping over the end of his coat. Normally, she'd be fast enough to catch herself before dropping onto all fours in the dirt. Now is not normally.

She takes one look at him, closes her eyes and thinks, Great. Murphy rolls onto her back and stares up between the branches. "Dabbing at it like that isn't going to get it clean."

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor just eyes her in faint apprehension for a moment or two, and then sighs, flicking pink-tinted water off his fingers and into the stream.

"Yes, well, it hurts," he mutters in response, not quite loud enough to be speaking directly to her, but definitely meant to be heard.

[whateverthemess]

"I've heard broken noses do that," she says to the air. The dirt is comfortable. She's not going to move for a little while. Instead, she closes her eyes and starts counting and breathing along with the numbers until her body falls into the familiar pattern and she doesn't need to count any more.

Okay, usually she does this sitting up, but that seems like a little too much effort at the moment.

[thatsortofaman]

"You didn't have to break it." He glances over at her, trying to look like something other than a sulky child and failing. "A bruise would've gotten your point across perfectly well."

[whateverthemess]

"You didn't have to deserve it," she counters without opening her eyes. "And bruises fade a lot faster."

She goes back to counting silently, as stubborn as a badger and twice as irritable.

[thatsortofaman]

"I di-" he starts to say, and then breaks off with a grimace. He still doesn't think he deserved that, but arguing with her won't help at all, and will probably just get her to punch him again. He'd at least like to wait until his nose has healed before they do that again.

"...you're on my coat," he points out weakly after a moment. Which is not at all what he wanted to say, but he's having trouble thinking of things that won't lead to violence.

[whateverthemess]

"Yes I am." She doesn't move. She feels like being a pain. More of a pain. After another round of counting she says, "I heard what happened."

Murphy shudders lightly. She can't help it - the thought of being trapped in a mirror, any mirror, gives her the crawls. "You okay? And if you say 'No, my nose is broken' I might try for something else."

[thatsortofaman]

"Of course you did," he mutters. He was sort of hoping that she wouldn't have to hear about that, not least because he half-expected her to blame him for getting stuck in the mirror in the first place. Which... okay, maybe he didn't need to walk over and poke it, but it was a strange mirror in a strange cave, and there are some times when the Doctor really can't help himself.

He does have to clench his jaw around a retort that's nearly exactly the one she anticipated, and pauses for a second or two before shrugging. "'Course. I always am."

[whateverthemess]

Murphy snorts. And closes her eyes again. "I'm going to lay on your coat until you stop being full of crap. It might take a while at this rate."

She opens one eye to see if he's still fiddling with his nose. "You really do need that thing set properly, or it's going to start healing wrong and you'll have to break it all over again to be able to breathe."

[thatsortofaman]

"You're small. I think I could roll you off." He's not quite looking at her, just watching out of the corner of his eye - and, yes, still fiddling with his nose. It hurts, what else is he supposed to do? (Leaving it alone is, apparently, not an option.)

"I'll be fine. Honestly. You're just looking for an excuse to hit me again." There's still a touch of resentment in his tone, but just a fraction of what there would be if he were actually holding a grudge. He's just annoyed because his face still hurts.

[whateverthemess]

She kicks him in the back from where she's laying, though not hard enough to really hurt. Murphy is fairly sure he'll complain anyway. "Repeat that and I won't need an excuse to hit you again."

Slowly, she drags herself upright and turns so she's still sitting on his coat, now with her back against his. "How long have you been giving that line, anyway?"

[thatsortofaman]

"Ow, what- But you are!"

He shifts a little, trying to put just a bit more distance between them so he's out of kicking range, but... she's on his coat. And now he's a bit afraid to try tipping her off - not that he wasn't before. He gives up after a moment, when she turns to set her back against his.

"What line?" Pause. "It's not a line, whatever it is. It's the truth."

[whateverthemess]

"I'm what, Doctor." It's a dare. Go ahead, Doc. Tell her she's small. See what happens. "I mean the line about being okay. I interrogate people for a living-"

She stops for a breath, curses herself for the tell and keeps going. "I know when someone is full of crap, and you have twice as much room in your fat head for it apparently."

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor's silent for a moment, rather obviously thinking about taking the dare anyway. He's tempted to, but for once, common sense and the desire to avoid any more pain wins out over curiosity - he decides to pretend she never asked the question at all, and moves on.

"Oh, definitely more than twice as much." Which... is probably not what she wants to hear, but it's truthful, at least.

[whateverthemess]

"At least you admit to being more than twice as full of crap as your average person," Murphy drawls. She rubs the heels of her hands against her closed eyes, privately grateful that he's obnoxious enough to keep her awake. "So?"

[thatsortofaman]

"So...? Oh. You're still asking... Right."

This is like being friends with a highly intelligent terrier who just happens to be very concerned about his emotional wellbeing. He likes Murphy and all, but if he wanted that, he would've built a new K-9 model. And then reprogrammed it so it wouldn't ask questions like that.

"I am. Fine. I'm just..." He trails off, searching for a word that's not a lie, and doesn't say too much without being vague enough to annoy her. There aren't many. Finally, he shakes his head with a bitter smile, and goes on heavily, "Tired. I'm so tired."