DOCTOR WHO IMAGINES

𝟙𝟙

The doctor carefully placed a new tissue box next to your bed, in all honestly he looked like a cartoon character tip toeing around your bed.
Even the TARDIS was on quiet mode, the doors to your bedroom which normally made a wooshing sound that you loved were totally silent when they closed from behind him.
A week earlier you'd gotten sick, so much so that you couldn't leave your bed but it didn't help that you couldn't sleep.
So the second you were out like a light, the TARDIS practically shut down everything but the life support.
The doctor had always sort of joked that the TARDIS loved you more than him.
He was partially right.
The TARDIS loved you like a mother to a child, seeing how happy you made the doctor and how happy the doctor made you meant the most to her.
Alone in the console room the doctor stood in front of the door, thinking.
Racking his brain for who to go to, he could go to the future and look for the proper medication for you. He also could just continue to look after you until you got better, but he was desperate to go on more adventures as soon as possible.
"That could work?... maybe.. yes!"
He shouted in triumph, running back to the console He practically threw himself in circles flipping switches.

2 HOURS LATER

"Mmm.. doctor?"
You asked an empty room, the low light in your room slowly got brighter.
Getting up slowly, taking a tissue with you the TARDIS slowly dimming lights as you passed through each hallway.
Taking another right turn, you stopped in front of the first open door slowly turning you could see the doctor hunched over a table.
A tiny smoke explosion made the doctor jump back, sending him off his chair.
You approached a lot faster, helping him up
"Y/n? What are you doing up? You need to go lay down"
He tripped over his own feet multiple times, trying to push you to the door. Holding him steady next to you, trying to repress giggles as he composed himself and hold your hand.
Very quickly the doctor got sidetracked, the door to garden 12 had a bad scratch on its paint job.
"Oh you had one job!"
He started going on and on, aggressively rubbing the door he smacked it hard, smacking his chin by accident.
He gave me a dirty look as I bent over laughing, helping him up I grabbed his arm and held on this time,
"Maybe we should both just lay down?"
I calmed down and he sighed and floofed his quaff before begrudgingly responding
"Maybe"