"Doctor?" Wilf asked disbelievingly, leaning in closer to the young man.

"That would be me!" Said the Doctor, seeming a bit off. "Same Doctor, new face." He giggled as he took in Wilfred's expression. "New New New Doctor." There was a pause as he made a face at what he said and blinked heavily. "Sorry." He told Wilf, surprising him with an amazingly clearer-sounding voice. "This is like regeneration sickness all over again."

Looking over at him, the Doctor found that Wilf seemed to be doing an impression of a fish out of water, opening his mouth to say something and deciding against it. Eventually the timid question came. "Is that what's wrong with you?"

The Doctor actually had to think about that. "No… no! Of course not! I've been this me for… a year? Yes, a year now. I think…" He looked at Wilfred. "What year is this?"

"Two-thousand ten."

"Ah." Said the deceivingly young-looking Time Lord as he realized that his time wasn't exactly relative to everyone else's. "Right. Well… probably a year. At a guess. Anyways," He continued. "Not regeneration sickness."

Despite looking at the Doctor like he was a total madman, Wilfred nodded.

"The truth is," The Doctor continued to ramble, "that I have no idea what's wrong with me. Have some memory gaps apparently. Don't even know how I got here or where my friends went… I mean, I can't even figure out if this mania is new or not. This me is kind of…" He started to cough again, trying to cover his mouth. "out there." He finished hoarsely. "I once showed up at my friend's bachelor party, popped out of his cake and told him that his fiancée kissed me!" He turned and asked Wilf, in all seriousness. "Did you know that that is a bad thing to do?"

Wilfred had no response to that. The spirit of this young man's rambling certainly proved his identity but the shock of it seemed to hit Wilf harder. How different he was. Similar… but still completely different. It reminded him of his previous Doctor's description of regenerations. One dies and a completely new man appears. His burning question could not wait. "Did you get your reward?"

That seemed to shock the Doctor into silence. He looked Wilf straight in the eyes with a grim seriousness. "Well-"

"Well, it took forever, but I finally found something without aspirin." Donna interrupted, walking into the room and throwing a bag of something at the Doctor.

Wilf tried to calm his frustration as the Doctor looked at the bag's contents. "These are lozenges" He said absurdly.

"Yeah." Donna said. "All we have is stuff with aspirin in it. What are you, allergic to aspirin?"

The Doctor blinked at her tone. "Yes. One tablet could kill me."

This seemed to pacify Donna completely. "Oh." Was all she seemed to be able to say.

He shrugged slightly and went back to the lozenges, making a face. "These are like lollipops without sticks. Might as well have jelly-babies." He leaned his head over to look at her, grinning madly. "Do you have any fish-fingers or custard? Preferably both?"

Donna's eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. "No." She said, quietly, though not without humor.

"Ah."

At Donna's rising frequency of her giving him her 'he's a nutter' look, Wilfred decided to make a move. "You must excuse John here, Donna. He's always been a little odd."

This earned an odd stare from not only Donna but the Doctor as well (though it was less successful with his bought of coughing). "You know him, Gramps?" She asked increduously.

He nodded. "Yeah. Hard to recognize him though. He changed his-."

"Clothes." The Doctor finished quickly.

"What, was there a sale at Professors R' Us? Was sort of wondering about the bowtie." Donna said, voice laced with sarcasm.

He looked somewhat offended. "Bowties. Are. Cool." He stated simply. "Also fezzes. I used to have one… wonder what happened to it?" He looked around the room as if the fez would just magically appear before them. "Huh."

Ignoring that, Wilfred continued his cover story. "The lad here," This earned a snort from the Doctor. "And I knew each other from that astronomy convention we were at together."

"Oh?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. Gave a lecture on how nebulas are the proverbial volcanoes of the universe. You know, how it gives life to a star while also representing the death of another star-"

"A lecture?" Donna asked. "What are you, twenty-six?"

He thought about that one. "Graduated early." He said.

"What about—"

"Donna, sweetheart." Wilfred said, interrupting Donna for probably the first time since the Doctor had met him. "Can't you see that he's ill?" He looked the Doctor. "Let's get you upstairs."

The Time Lord seemed slightly opposed to this, sitting up to talk. "I don't want to-" He started but interrupted himself with his own coughing, making, at least in Wilf's eyes, what ever he was about to say to be moot.

This was apparently true to Donna as well. She quickly rushed over to the Doctor, putting the green blanket, which had fallen when he sat up, back around his shoulders. "Nonsense. You look like death warmed over. Barely." She added, forcibly helping him to stand.

He made an odd moaning sound at that, his vision swimming and his head seeming to lean on her shoulder on his own accord, before he seemed to steady himself. Once steady, he managed to gain his own form of balance, hanging onto Donna for support but just barely.

They started moving, abet slowly, towards the stairs. Closer to the stairs, the Doctor coughed and stumbled, Wilfred immediately rushing to his side and catching him. The Doctor looked even paler than before, Wilfred noticed.

The stairs was not a fun experience. The Doctor had looked at them with a slightly exasperated glare before they had even gone up. Wilf and Donna practically had to coax him up, helping him gently, much to, as far as Wilf could tell, the Doctor's annoyance. He wasn't exactly used to being so dependent on two humans.

It took over five minutes to get the sick Time Lord up the steps and by then he was shaking from exhaustion and turning an odd color. No wait, Wilfred decided as the Doctor seemed to gain strength enough to rush away from them and hurry to the bathroom, that probably wasn't just exhaustion.

Donna and Wilf exchanged a glance, both sympathetic as they heard the Doctor bring up whatever he had eaten previously. Wilfred moved first, heading towards the bathroom. There he found a completely miserable looking Doctor, still kneeled in front of the toilet, grimacing.

"Are you alright?" Wilfred couldn't help but ask the useless question.

The Doctor looked at him, eyes not filled annoyance at the question, like he probably would have if he was better, but full of complete exhaustion and unhappiness. He shook his head and moved away from the toilet, sliding on the tile to sit up against the tub in a more comfortable position.

Wilfred walked over to him slowly, as if he would snap at him if he got to close. Finding that the Doctor obviously wasn't going to bite him, he sat down next to him. Despite the futility of it, Wilfred was reminded of all those times in the past where he had taken care of a sick Sylvia or even Donna when they were young. The age that this Doctor looked didn't help much either. The next thing he knew, he was rubbing circles on the Doctor's back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

It apparently was, as the Doctor closed his eyes, tension that Wilfred hadn't even noticed was there seeming to leave him slowly. This went on for a few long comfortable moments before the Doctor spoke. "Last time I felt this bad," He laughed weakly and slightly embarrassedly. "I was blonde and wore a cricket uniform. That was about six faces ago…" He said somewhat sadly, as if remembering better times.

Wanting to steer the Doctor into a distracting subject, Wilfred asked, "So how many… 'you's have there been?"

The Doctor sighed again. "This is the eleventh me." He seemed to get weary at that statement, reminded of how long he'd lived and what he'd done in the time of all of those older faces. The things he must have done, Wilfred mused. The people he must have known.

Wilfred was about to ask another question when he heard Donna's footsteps coming towards them. She walked in, unfazed by the state of the two men, and handed the Doctor a towel. "Figured you might need this." She said softly.

He took it from her, wiping his face with it. She had used warm water to dampen it. Same caring Donna, he thought.

She handed him another item, taking the towel when he was done. "Orange juice. Supposed to be good for you when you're sick."

He gulped it down, the coldness of it helping to calm his irritatingly sore throat and the flavor helping to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth from his period of nausea. Once done he handed her the cup back and looked at her in the eyes. "Thank you." He said, sounding extremely honest.

Donna just nodded and Wilfred knew that she was glad she was helping.

In normal Donna-fashion however she wasn't silent for long. "Come on." She said. "Let's get you off this freezing floor before you catch another cold." The Doctor grimaced but nodded his consent.

Wilfred stood up and helped the Doctor to his feet, the Time Lord managing to gain his footing once again. The three of them managed to shuffle into the hallway again. Donna was trying to move them towards the guest room when Wilf stopped her. "Let's put him in my room."

"Why?" Donna asked.

"I don't want to put you out." Wilfred responded. Donna had been using the guest room since she'd temporarily come to stay.

"But gramps—"

"I don't want to put you out." The Doctor interrupted her, looking at Wilf. But all he was paying attention to was the Doctor's sickly look.

"Nonsense, I have a couch in my room, I'll just sleep in there. Keep an eye on you."

"But-"

"No buts from either of you." Wilfred took charge, Donna and the Doctor's protests silencing. Neither of them could really argue with this plan, he knew. It made too much sense.

Finally seeming to agree on a destination, the group moved into Wilf's room. There wasn't much there really. A window with a well-used telescope seated nearby, a few star charts on a desk along with some well-thumbed novels, a television, a bed and a not-terribly-uncomfortable-looking couch.

They let the Doctor sit down on the bed while Donna rushed into the bathroom to grab another wet cloth. She returned and commanded. "Shoes, jacket and bowtie off."

The Doctor just stared at her blearily before working on his laces.

Donna went over to Wilfred, who was watching the Time Lord attempt to untie his own shoes. "Are you sure about this?" She asked quietly.

He looked at her. "He's a good friend and he needs help." He answered just as quiet.

"You didn't even recognize him twenty minutes ago."

"He's… changed. I haven't seen him in a while." He replied honestly, hoping to satisfy her doubts.

But Donna was never one to be easily satisfied. "But then why would he show up here?" She asked.

He gazed at her before sighing. "I don't know." He said wearily, looking back at the Doctor who had finally gotten his shoes and jacket off and was working on the bowtie. He watched as the Time Lord got the thing off, looking at it as if he was mourning its presence around his collar.

Watching her gramps and the way he was looking at this stranger, Donna knew at least one thing: Wilf really did care about him. She didn't know why but she wasn't about to disappoint him.

"Alright." She said, gaining the attention of the Doctor. "Bed, now." She moved him so he was sitting on the couch while she moved the blankets for him. He didn't resist as she almost forcibly placed him in bed, tucking the covers around him. She leaned close to his face. "You'd better get better." She said. "'Cause if you upset my gramps-"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He answered. She nodded. He did look sick, practically pale as a ghost against Wilfred's dark blue duvet. She put the cool wet towel on his forehead with care before heading towards the door.

She stopped there and turned to her grandfather. "If you need me just… shout." And suddenly Wilfred was reminded of something she had said before… when she was searching for the Doctor. He just nodded.

She left and Wilfred stared at the door for a moment, the idea that the Time Lord and him were all alone together striking him.

"Well she hasn't changed." The Doctor said quietly from behind him.

He chuckled at that. "No." He said, turning back to him. "You can never change that one. She's still—" He stopped himself at the sight of the Doctor, already asleep on the bed.

Wilfred sat down on the couch. The Time Lord was breathing deep and evenly, but still pale as a sheet and with sweat on his brow. This time, promised Wilf, he wouldn't let the Doctor slip through his fingers again.

...

A/N: So... chapter two! Yey! Did most of this in one day so... yeah. Still don't know what happened to Mr. and Mrs. Pond but you'll find out soon enough. And yeah, he's actually the New New New New New New New New New New New Doctor. Not much else to comment on here, it's just a continuation of the DoctorWhump so... Enjoy. Please review. Thank you to the five who already reviewed. You're so kind!