Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

188(G)

               to have and to hold

                pwnedbypineapple

1: a concentration of nerves is the worst possible design;

On some days, the Doctor embodied all of his one thousand years; on others, River estimated that he was about five.

"Ow ow ow - oh, River, River, I'm dying, gah, it hurts."

On some days, the Doctor embodied all of his one thousand years; on others, River estimated that he was about five. Today was one of the latter. He reeled near the TARDIS console, balanced haphazardly on one foot, and he would have fallen had River not dropped his shoes and caught him by the shoulders. "I told you to put them on," she said, giving him a soothing rub on the back and guiding him gently to the floor, where he leaned against the console. The expression on his face was one of exaggerated pain and complete indignation, and River smiled as she knelt beside him.

"Yes, well, I was distracted - ahhhhh." The Doctor shut his eyes and with one hand clutched at his right leg, above the knee. His other hand instinctively sought out something else to hold, and River slipped her own into it.

His grip was hesitant, at first; even in the midst of pain, he was wary of hurting anyone, and River loved him for it. "You're not going to hurt me," she reminded him, shaking her head. "Squeeze as hard as you need."

He did. He held tight to her hand like a drowning man. "This is ridiculous," he said hotly, opening his eyes and glaring down at the offending appendages. "It's the universe's idea of a sick joke, that's what! Did you know that the pain of a stubbed toe is universal? In species with toes, that is. Ahhh. Literally the most useless collection of nerves, who designed this nonsense!"

On he rambled, his voice rising and falling with fresh waves of pain. For a few moments, River refrained from commenting and let him go on unchecked, through the worst of it. It was too endearing to interrupt, anyway. When his voice had tapered off somewhat, and he was muttering about how he would have set foot nerves up, River extracted her hand. "Alright," she said, sliding down to where his socked feet were splayed, "might as well have a look at it. The rate you were going, I wouldn't be surprised if you broke something."

The Doctor twitched the toes on his right foot and grimaced, hissing through his teeth as tears of pain automatically sprung forth. "No, no, I don't think so, I can move them. I hope not, that would be embarrassing."

"I think you've already achieved embarrassing, sweetie," River informed him; gently, she pulled off his sock and handed it to him to hold in place of her hand, and then she inspected his foot. The area that he'd struck against the console was bruised, already a splotchy blue, but it could have been worse.

"How does it look?" the Doctor asked; he'd scrunched his eyes closed once more.

River smiled again. "Oh, completely awful," she said merrily. "You'll probably need reconstructive surgery, after this..."

The Doctor's eyes shot open. "You're lying!" he said indignantly.

River patted his leg, smiling serenely at his glare. "Of course I am. Can you move it for me, once more?"

The Doctor complied and tightly gripped the sock bundled up in his fist, wincing as he twitched his toes again. But the pain didn't seem to be as bad, judging by the fact that his eyes didn't water this time. Ever so gently, River touched the area and deemed it to be just what it seemed: bruised. Not even sprained. Anyone else, with all that flailing and rushing about, would have accidentally broken a toe, but not the Doctor. Lucky idiot, River thought fondly.