"You're completely fine."

The Doctor was in bed, sick with a stomach bug.

"No, I'm sick!"

The Doctor began to whine loudly, comforted only by Rose patting him gently on the back.

"Well, that's just fantastic. You're a doctor but can't cure yourself, can you?"

The Doctor crossed his arms and frowned. Couldn't she see that he didn't need to cure himself? Sure, he felt like crap, but if that meant having Rose by his side 24/7, he was fine with being sick. That doesn't mean he didn't take advantage of the opportunity to whine and complain. He was a kid once, no matter what planet he's from.

"Can't you see that I feel like I'm dying? I hate being sick!"

Rose rolled her eyes at the Doctor's whining because she was strong and didn't give into his almost unavoidable immaturity.

"You're not dying. Stop being such a toddler and man up!"

The Doctor pretended to look appalled. Compare him to a toddler? How dare she!

"You are comparing me, a 903 year old time travelling alien from the planet Gallifrey, to a 4 year old boy from Earth? Just to let you know, I like little kids. It doesn't bother me at all."

Rose leaned over and playfully punched the Doctor on the arm. She pressed her cool hand onto the Doctor's forehead gently.

"You're burning up! What is your normal body temperature supposed to be?"

"Same as humans."

Rose rushed to get the thermometer. She made the Doctor hold it under his tongue until it beeped. Once it did, she took the thermometer and looked at the result. Suddenly, her face had a worried expression.

"What's wrong, Rose?"

Rose frowned. "You have a fever. Your temperature is one hundred three."

"A touch high, isn't it?"

"Do you feel warm?"

The Doctor gave a cheeky grin. He knew exactly what he was going to say.

"More like hot." He winked at Rose.

Rose blushed and looked away. This was something he did all the time, and to her, seemed like a weird way to flirt. She went to the bathroom to dampen the washcloth she had picked up in her left hand. When she came back, she folded the damp cloth and placed it gently on his forehead.

"Now, how about I heat you up some broth? I can give you some chicken broth to drink."

"Alright, but it's not my fault if I can't keep it down."

Rose made her way to the kitchen. She pulled a container of chicken broth out of the refrigerator and poured it in a pot. She began to heat the broth until it was warm. She poured the broth into a bowl and brought it to the Doctor.

"Here, drink this. You should feel better by tomorrow morning."

Rose began to leave his bedside, as it was already midnight.

"No! Wait… don't leave!"

Rose furrowed her brow in thought. "Doctor, I need some sleep, you know."

The Doctor whined loudly and made a puppy dog face. He pointed to his closet.

"There's a blow up mattress in there. Please, just don't leave me here alone."

Rose hesitated for a moment before opening his closet slowly. A few books tumbled out of the top shelf. She picked one up and leafed through it. It was written in Gallifreyen. She could see, however, it was written in the Doctor's beautiful, loopy handwriting on the yellowing pages. Oh well. She noticed the mattress on the ground and the air pump, so she blew it up. She took a pillow and blanket from his closet as well and lay down on the mattress. The Doctor was fast asleep by this time, and sleeping soundly. She lowered herself onto the temporary mattress wearily and closed her eyes. Almost immediately, the Doctor cried out.

"No! Not again! Leave… leave her!"

Rose, startled, shook the Doctor awake. He awoke with a sob and curled himself into a fetal position and held his stomach.

"Oh my gosh. Rose… I'm… I'm so sorry. I… it was just a nightmare. I get nightmares when I'm sick, or in a bad mood or stressed or something. I just… oh, wow. That was terrible."

The Doctor tried to wipe the tears and sweat from his face. It didn't help much. The salty taste of tears mixed with the almost overwhelming scent of air freshener filled him. Rose sat by his side, playing with his hair and running her finger along the intricate designs on his brown and red quilt. He had told her once that his mother had sewn it together and that every design had a different meaning. Rose was close to tears herself, because she had never seen him like this. She had never heard him cry out in the night. He also wasn't one to cry. Seeing him so vulnerable and scared terrified her. She was hoping that the nightmares he was having were just delusions, brought on by the fever, but she knew deep down that they weren't. Rose knew of the terror he faced, of the evil memories that persisted in his mind. She knew because everyone has them. Almost nobody has memories that don't terrify them. Hers was watching her father die right in front of her when she asked to go back. If those were the memories that scared her, what kind of chilling memories could he have had? What had he seen?

"What was your dream about?"

The Doctor blushed. "Part of it was about… about losing you."

Rose asked no more questions. She lay down next to him and tried to get comfortable. Although she was half off the bed, she wanted him to feel secure and safe, no matter if he was a lot older or not. A person is a person, and she loved him enough to even take care of him.

"Don't worry. I'm right here. I'll be with you forever."

The Doctor was crying on the inside because he knew she wouldn't.