Doctor Who - 04 - On a Pale Horse

.8. The Volcano Day

"No," the Doctor said. He got up heavily from the edge of a horses' feeding trough, his hair more dishevelled than ever, his clothing ruffled. Tiny dots of freckles were clearly visible on his pale face. "No, Donna, no. The TARDIS. That's our priority. We have to get out of here."

"But those people..." Donna protested. "Those black clad people. That Kathryn woman, and that Cuthbert. They're from the future! They shouldn't be here, they meddle with the history, and that is our business, right?"

The Doctor gave her a stern look. Just a moment ago he had been running towards her like a madman, calling out her name (and it a bit, a tiny little bit, reminded her the way he had once dashed towards Rose), and when they had finally reached each other, the Doctor had lifted her in his arms and swivelled round, making white-washed, thatched buildings around the square swirl before Donna's eyes. But when she had told him her story and insisted on going to Allan's rescue immediately, the Doctor had scowled and moved away from Donna, his expression vividly indicating an immediate readiness to hold off any of her attacks. The tenth degree of stubbornness.

"No." He started down the street, pushing his hands into his coat's pockets. One moment, and he was ten steps away. Fifteen steps in Donna's case; the Doctor was marching quickly, as if he was trying to escape her. "C'mon, there's no time to waste."

"But, just... Look, the collar, see, they put that collar on my neck, this is supposed to be some sort of a micro-molecular filter," Donna said, trotting by his side. "Not something they would have in the Middle Ages, right? And there's Simon. We can't leave him like that... And that bloody collar is chafing my neck!"

The Doctor produced the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. He halted and for a while he twiddled with the circlet's clasp, only to step back, surprise on his face.

"I can't open it," he said. "It's deadlocked."

"Wizard!" Donna snorted. "So what, should I buy ear-rings and a bracelet that goes with it? Jewellery for life?"

"A protection for life," the Doctor answered. "The micro-molecular filter. No bacteria and no virus can get through it."

"I thought the TARDIS was protecting us?"

"I thought so as well. The TARDIS we can't get to."

"But... We have to go back to that, what-do-you-call-it, abbey, even if it'll be only to make them take it off me!" Donna didn't even notice the note of irony and bitterness in the Doctor's voice. "And I want to give them a bit of my mind! I want to tell them what I think about kidnapping me, and imprisoning me, and taking bloody blood samples, and about sleeping injections, and about straw mattresses..."

"Donna, just stop for a mo..." The Doctor coughed suddenly, a deep, wet cough. Donna looked at him, surprised, but not scared. He turned his startled gaze at her. His eyes seemed unnaturally bright. He leant his back against the wall under a low thatched roof, and rested a hand on his chest. For a moment he looked as if he was analysing something, almost as if was staring inside his own body.

"Endotoxins entered the cytoplasm of my phagocytes," he said quickly. "I didn't even notice when it happened. Ooh, no..."