....Deserves Another
Title: ....Deserves Another
Summary: Nurse!Donna, I suppose. Sequel to "One Good Turn...."
Notes: Written for the 17th weekly drabble challenge at doctor_donna, for the prompt word 'touch'.
More notes: much thanks to fansquee for being my sounding board re: titles
"That's right, Donna, sleep. That's my girl.”
Donna tried to glare at him but her eyes were sliding closed and she only managed to squint.
“Your girl?” she slurred. “I'll make you a girl, Martian....”
She started to say something else but before she could speak everything went black.
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“Doctor?”
Donna woke up and she felt something scratchy on her face. She brought a hand to her face, her fingers brushing against a small bandage that had been placed on her cheek. It took her a moment to realize what had happened, but once she remembered she sat upright, looking around to see if the Doctor was all right. He'd been mad at her (at least at first) for helping him but his anger had quickly been replaced by concern as he realized she'd been hurt.
She had tried to tell him she was fine and to worry about his own injuries but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't have listened and had probably knocked her out to help her so she couldn't argue with him about babying her.
“Doctor?” she called hesitantly, seeing her friend sitting unconscious on a little cot across the med bay from her. “Doctor, are you all right?”
It didn't take her long to realize that he'd fallen asleep -probably watching over her, knowing him- and had forgotten to take care of his leg as she'd told him to. She walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulders, laughing quietly as he relaxed against her touch. “Silly Spaceman,” she mumbled, and lowered him onto the bed, unbuttoning his jacket and removing it so he would be a bit more comfortable. “And this, by the way,” she added, “is the one and only time I'll be undressing you, so don't get any ideas.”
After she'd draped his jacket over a nearby chair she grabbed one of his legs with her better arm, hoisting it up onto the bed as well and grabbing his injured leg with both hands so as not to hurt him. His head shifted and she smiled, going back to his side and brushing a bit of dirt off his face that she was sure had gotten there during his attempts to escape the first time.
“It's all right, Martian, I'm here,” she said, touching his forehead to brush back his hair. Just as she expected, she pushed it away from his face and it sprang right back into place, the spiky bits of brown sticking up at odd angles and making him look rather like a helpless little boy rather than the powerful Time Lord she travelled with.
She grinned again then looked him over just to make sure he hadn't hurt himself anywhere else. Satisfied, she glanced back at his leg and was rather startled to see it moving, clearly not under the Doctor's control. It occurred to her that the TARDIS was healing him and she sighed in relief, then laid down beside him, suddenly exhausted again. She smiled as she saw the Doctor's chest rising and falling evenly, and as her eyes drifted closed she felt the Doctor's arm absently drape over her as he rolled onto his side. “Sweet dreams, Doctor,” she said softly.