Fic: Broken Bones
Title: Broken Bones
Author: on Teaspoon: Timeweaver, on lj: spellweaver731 - My Fan Fiction Master List
Beta: None but I am in the market, if you're interested drop me a line
Rating: Teen
Characters/Pairing: Rose, Nine, Rose/Nine Friendship
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, General
Summary: The Doctor suffers an injury, Rose has to help him out.
Author's Notes: This was originally written for the wonderful ladychi who was having a bad day and requested some Doctor/Rose hurt/comfort. I like it enough that I wanted to share it with the larger fandom so here it is.
Disclaimer: The Doctor, Rose, The TARDIS and all other Doctor Who characters, settings and artifacts belong to the BBC or so I am told.
***
"Oww."
"Yeah, I think they are defiantly broken," Rose said, gently probing the Doctor's hand.
"Really? What was your first clue? And you don't need to pull them around like that."
Rose ignored his belligerent tone and focused on being practical. "How fast do your bones heal, are they in danger of healing all out of place like this or can we wait to get you back to the TARDIS to set them?"
As she watched Rose could see the Doctor thinking carefully. The TARDIS was nearly a days travel away. It was parked in the little fishing village they'd originally landed in. Having just escaped imprisonment in the capital they had a long way to travel on foot to reach it.
Rose saw a series of emotions pass over the Doctor's face as he did the mental calculations of his supper fast healing versus traveling time with a human in tow, mostly he just looked in pain. He sighed. Rose grimaced in sympathy as the sigh became a hiss of agony. Unconsciously she found that she was gently stroking the skin of his wrist in small circles, still cradling his injured digits in both hands.
"It'll have to be set, the sooner the better," the Doctor told her, resigned.
"What do I have to do?" Rose asked meeting his gaze earnestly.
The Doctor pursed his lips and blew out a melancholy puff of air. "If I had my sonic screwdriver, I could set it with no problem."
"If you had your sonic screwdriver you probably would not have broken your fingers levering open that door," Rose pointed out.
"Exactly," replied the Doctor.
The screwdriver, along with all their other possessions were back in the village with the easily offended wife of the local magistrate. Apparently it was highly inappropriate to stick out ones tongue in this culture. After witnessing a full out face-making battle between the Doctor and Rose the woman went and had them arrested by her house guard. All their possessions-including their clothes-had been confiscated and awarded to her as compensation for her distress. They were going to have a hard time traveling with out standing out, dressed in old potato sacks as they were.
“Well we don't have it right now, we'll get it back when we get to the village, along with my knickers. What that woman wants with those I really don't want to know.”
“We need to find something to use as splints, a couple of sticks or something,” the Doctor said looking around but making no move to get up from where he was slumped against the wall.
Rose looked around the grungy ally they were sequestered in. There was plenty of rubbish laying about, she sifted through it carefully, looking for anything that might work. Eventually she found a discarded writing utensil of some sort and what she thought was probably a nail file. She tested it, it filed the chip in her nail quite nicely.
“Are you through giving yourself a manicure?” The Doctor asked her indignantly.
“Yup, just testing it.”
The Doctor made a faint growling sound. “We're not going to use it for it's intended purpose, it hardly matters if it works.”
If he had not been in such obvious pain Rose would likely have laughed at the combination of the look on his face and his growling retort. As it was she managed to hold herself in check.
“We'll need some strips of fabric off your sack,” he said.
“My sack? Why my sack? You're the one who needs them, my sack is short enough thank you and as I think we've already covered I'm not wearing any knickers!” Rose thought it was well past time for her to show some indignation, this whole thing had been humiliating for her too.
“Our sacks are the same length but yours covers you better, I'm taller. Mine is barely long enough as it is.”
“I don't think so.” Rose shook her head at him, lips pressed in a stern line.
The Doctor looked down at the ragged hem of his own sack, a pathetic looking pout on his face. Predictably Rose immediately caved.
“Oh, alright.” She started at the side, it was ridiculously easy to rip the fabric in a horizontal direction; vertically it was nearly impossible. In the end she had a full circle of inch wide fabric. Standing back up an inch seemed like a very significant amount indeed. Rose slouched. She tossed the loop of burlap at him.
“It needs to be in a couple of strips, at least two, I do have two broken bones,” the Doctor told her.
Rose stopped herself-just barely-from growling at him. She took the fabric back. Now that it was no longer in duty covering her modesty she found she could get some leverage on it and rip it open and then in half. There, two strips.
She knelt down next him, straightening her now very short sack as she went. “I've never done this before,” she said nervously. Now that it was time to actually set his bone she found her courage, and definitely her attitude, failing her.
“You'll do fine, I know you can do it. Finger bones are easy to set, just feel around and give it a little pull, they should pop right back in to place.”
Far from comforting her the Doctor's use of the word 'pop' simply made her feel slightly nauseated.
She cradled his hand again, just taking in the painful sight of his weirdly angled fingers. She felt a wave of shame at her earlier callousness, that had to hurt a great deal. Taking a deep breath Rose griped and pulled his index finger. The sound he made hurt something deep inside Rose to hear, to know that she had caused that painful sound. The bone slid into place, it was surprisingly easy to feel, just like the Doctor had said.
“See, easy peasy, lemon squeezy,” the Doctor bit out, she knew he was trying to sound reassuring but the pain-filled way he said it was far from comforting. She had hurt him. There was even a faint hint of tears in his eyes.
Rose swallowed thickly and took a deep steadying breath. She gave him a few seconds before moving to the next one. His middle finger was much more difficult, she had to shift it around for several seconds to get it back in place. At last, with a sickening noise it set correctly. Rose's own eyes were watering. The Doctor didn't say anything, he was laying limply against the ally wall, his skin pale and sweaty. Painful breaths panted and hissed between his clenched teeth, his eyes were squeezed shut tightly.
Rose waited, watching for a sign that he wanted her to continue. His fingers still needed to be splinted and wrapped. She reached up to smooth his hair from his damp brow and he flinched away from her. Rose withdrew her hand with a gasp; she couldn't blame him, she wouldn't be surprised if he never wanted her to touch him again. She wondered just how badly she had buggered it up.
“Doctor?” Rose asked tentatively, eyes blinking involuntarily to scatter her tears. She wiped her eyes with her grubby hands, unknowingly smudging dirt all over her face. “Are you alright?”
“I'm always alright,” he gasped out.
As always when he used that line Rose knew not to believe him, but he was looking better. Color had returned to his face and he was breathing evenly. She slid up to his side-his left, uninjured side-and put her arms around him. She desperately wanted to offer him some comfort.
“That hurt a bit more than I anticipated,” he admitted, slinging his arm around Rose and pulling her in close.
“Sorry,” Rose said meekly.
“You've nothing to be sorry for Rose. You did a great job,” he said. Rose did not believe his words, all she could do now was get the fingers immobilized and get him back to the TARDIS as quickly as possible.
“Ready for the splints?”
“You betcha,” he paused for a moment, considering. “Remind me not to use that word again Rose, s'not even a proper word at all.”
“Sure thing Doctor,” Rose replied, moving back into position to splint his fingers. She was as careful as possible and the Doctor barely let out a hiss of pain at the procedure. Whether it was because she was gentle enough that it didn't hurt or because he was trying to spare her feelings Rose didn't know. Maybe after the pain of the bone setting a little extra manipulation of the digits didn't even register.
When she was finished wrapping his fingers securely they rested against the wall and each other for a few minutes, watching the sky grow dark above them. A new worry set in for Rose, it was getting quite chilly. Her potato sack was not just inconvenient because it left so little to the imagination; it provided little protection from the elements.
She shivered a little, trying to suppress the muscle movements.
“You cold?” The Doctor asked her.
“Nah, don't worry 'bout me. I'm made out of tough stuff,” she answered.
“Don't I know it,” the Doctor said, smiling at her, he tried to clear the dirt from her cheeks but his own hand was just as dirty. Instead he rubbed his good hand up and down her back and arm, trying to generate some friction.
Rose pulled him into a hug before getting to her feet to offer him a hand up.
“Time to push off I think Captain Ahab,” said Rose.
“He had a peg leg, not a mangled hand Starbuck,” he answered.
Rose giggled and gave him a watery smile, helping him to his feet. She peered out around the edge of the ally. “It's all clear, we should try to cover as much ground as we can in the dark.” They had not released each others hands.
“Darkness would be good,” said the Doctor, eying her legs. Even in her shortest skirt he'd never seen so much of them on display. It was making him a little light headed. Rose saw where he was looking and elbowed him lightly in the chest. Together they exited the ally and slinked along the streets, hand in hand.