If it was possible, The Doctor was even paler than before. His lips were a sickly tinge of blue. He looked dead. Amy and Rory were at The Doctor's bedside immediately. One of The Doctor's hands hung limply from under the covers, speckled with small hive-like looking bumps. Rory pulled The Doctor's shirt open and inspected his chest. It was covered in hives. What worried him more though was that The Doctor's chest was not rising, nor falling with any sign of breath. Rory checked The Doctor's pulse. He could feel one faint heartbeat. Right away, he commenced CPR, breathing into The Doctor's mouth and then counting compressions on The Doctor's still heart.
"What's happening to him?" said Amy, her voice sounding empty again. She took over the breathing for The Doctor, so Rory could speak to her.
"He's gone into anaphylactic shock" spoke Rory in a desperate voice. "It's an allergic reaction. It's, it's my fault." He admitted. Tears were leaking from his eyes.
"How on earth is it your fault, Rory?" She frantically asked.
"I gave him one of your aspirins. He must be allergic. I can perform CPR, but with all the lack of any kind of medical gear handy in this place there isn't much else I can do.
"Rory Pond." She blew another breath through The Doctor's blue lips. "You couldn't have known."
Between breaths she hastily and desperately looked around the room. Then, out of the corner of her eye she noticed something that made her own heart stop. Slung over the end of her bunk, was the Doctor's jacket. Through the tweed she could see a green glowing. Wasting no time, she reached into it and pulled out the sonic screwdriver and twisted it. A needle-type instrument, resembling an epi-pen emerged from the end. Rory watched his wife as she instinctively jabbed it into The Doctor's thigh.
"Yes! Yes!" cried Rory. "You need to hold it in his leg for ten seconds."
Amy obeyed and then removed the screwdriver and the needle end fell out onto the floor.
Together they kept up CPR for what seemed like the longest time in the universe. They cheered when The Doctor's heart began beating on its own and Rory started compressions to the other side of his chest, until they heard a magnificent sound. A gasp of breath came from The Doctor.

He remained unconscious for a long time, but The Ponds both stayed awake and waited patiently, whilst frequently checking The Doctor's vitals and pleased to see that he was gradually stabilising to a far less worrying level than before. When The Doctor's fever finally broke, Rory took his much needed rest. When The Doctor regained consciousness Amy helped feed him a whole meal, which The Doctor managed to keep down. The whole ordeal had left the Time Lord's body extremely weak, so he would only stay awake for moments at a time, in which he would smile at Amy and Rory, thank them and drift back to the land of nod for several hours. Gradually he was awake for more hours at a time. They helped his wobbly self out of bed and to the bathroom when he had to relieve himself. He began eating like a horse, which was a very good sign and he slowly regained his strength back, until he decided he wanted to take a bath and clean himself up. Afterward, he stepped out, fully clothed and cleanly shaven, looking much like his old self, bowtie and all.
"I'm back." He announced.
"You're feeling completely better?" Amy beamed.
The Doctor threw his sonic screwdriver in the air with a spin and caught it. "Fit as a fiddle".
Amy ran and embraced her Doctor in an enormous hug, which Rory joined in. And right there in that moment, in the arms of her husband and her best friend, her boys. She felt literally over the moon. Rory was equally content. The Doctor released his companions. He wandered over to the TARDIS' console and laid a gentle hand on her dashboard. Her engines made the strangest of noises, as though she was heaving a sigh of relief.