Red ⋆ Doctor Who

Chapter Twenty-five

The pounding in Cherry's head when she wakes is enough to scare her sober for life. But it's nothing compared to the nausea rising through her body when she sits up. She jumps out of the bed, rousing the Doctor, who has fallen asleep on top of the duvet beside her. She doesn't apologise, though, or stop to even look at him and instead, she makes a beeline for the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She sits on the floor of the bathroom in her pyjamas for almost twenty minutes after she is finished, holding her head in her shaking hands until there's a soft knock on the door.

"Yeah?" Cherry groans. Her voice is hoarse, and her head throbs as she speaks, but she slowly climbs to her feet, swaying on the spot for a moment before steadying herself on the sink.

"Charlotte, are you okay?" The Doctor speaks softly through the door, and she cleans her face with shockingly cold water to try and wake herself up a bit more.

"Fine. Just got a headache." She starts to brush her teeth after that, using an obscene amount of toothpaste and brushing them for much longer than normal to try and cleanse her mouth of the mix of stale wine and vomit.

"Okay, I'll just make some breakfast," the Doctor tells her and leaves her to her devices. She trudges out of the bathroom and into the bedroom when her mouth finally feels fresh again, and she forces herself to put on some deodorant and perfume before she gets changed into something a little more acceptable. She's not sure when, but in her attempt to grab her red sweater, she picked up the Doctor's football jersey with the eleven on the back, but she's too exhausted to care, and she pulls it on over her bra. She's not sure how, but it doesn't smell of sweat in the slightest, which she's pleased about because she thinks any bad smells would have her face down in the toilet, throwing up again. She briefly wonders if Time Lords even sweat, or if his rigorous-looking game of football yesterday was comparable to a walk in the park for someone of his species. But she doesn't dwell on it any further than that because she doesn't have the mental capacity to at that moment. She'll probably ask him about it later, but right now she's more focused on zipping up her jeans.

The Doctor barges in without knocking and delivers a tray with a full English breakfast, two mugs of tea and a mountain of toast on it. He notices Cherry is wearing his kit but doesn't acknowledge it any more than raising his eyebrows at her. He passes her a packet of aspirin when he's put the tray down on top of the chest of drawers, and she thanks him with a small smile and rushes to take them with the cup of tea. He leaves the room again to deliver Craig a tray of food, which Cherry thinks is an awfully sweet gesture, and she leans against the doorframe with her tea, watching him standing outside Craig's bedroom.

"Craig? Craig? Breakfast. It's normal," the Doctor calls through the door, and then his smile falters when he gets no reply. Cherry thinks nothing of it, assuming Craig is just sleeping, which she would love to be doing right now. "Craig?"

The Doctor pushes the door open with his foot and then pauses in the doorway. "Craig?" Then he rushes forward into the room, calling out to the man in a panic, and Cherry frowns. She follows him in, watching the Doctor crouch beside a very unwell-looking Craig in his bed. The Doctor turns him over, looking at his arm, which has awful black lines running through his veins. Cherry's eyes go wide, and she ditches her cup of tea on the display shelf in Craig's room. " I told you not to touch it. 'Look, what's that? It's an unfamiliar and obviously poisonous substance. Oh, I know what'd be really clever, I'll stick my hand in it'. Come on, Craig, breathe."