Cherry wakes up in her bed in the Tardis and a drawn-out groan followed by a string of profanities leave her lips, rousing the Doctor from the hour of sleep he has gotten. She sits up slowly, nursing the awful ache in her head, and she glances around the room with her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
"How did I get here?" She asks, looking down at the pyjamas she is wearing that she knows for a fact she did not put on herself. Her wedding dress is hanging neatly on the wardrobe and the Doctor's suit is strewn along the floor. Her veil is even folded and sitting on the bedside table. The Doctor's arm rests lazily over her waist, but he moves it away as he pushes his shoulders up off the mattress, leaning on his elbows.
"I carried you here," the Doctor answers simply.
"Why?"
"Well, you passed out in the garden," the Doctor says and she frowns.
"Oh, I don't remember that." She shakes her head, shakily climbing to her feet. Her stomach churns nauseatingly, and the pounding in her head grows stronger as her legs wobble.
"Are you okay?" The Doctor notices her precarious balance and he sees the way her face drops, but she rushes to the bathroom in a clumsy manner before she can reply. "Charlotte."
Cherry lies on the floor once she is done emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet, covering her clammy forehead with her hand.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?" The Doctor asks from outside the door.
"Yeah," she grumbles back to her husband, eyes shut. "I'll be fine."
"Do you need anything?"
"No," Cherry calls to him. "I'm never drinking again."
"I'll believe that when I see it," he mutters and Cherry rolls her eyes at him.
"You act like I drink every day," she says. "I never drink."
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Red ⋆ Doctor Who
Fanfiction'I love you, it's ruining my life' - Taylor Swift ⋆ "Your world would be much better off if you lost me." "Don't say things like that. What difference does it even make? Either way, I'm travelling with you, and I'm in danger. One way we'll both just...