Comments | mcgill_pride: Shut Your Eyes (rp for The Eighth Doctor)

mcgill_pride

Shut Your Eyes (rp for The Eighth Doctor)

Jul 09, 2007 20:38

Wilson coughed a little and grimaced. He knew he should've been in the dining room by now, according to when he'd told the Doctor they'd meet for lunch. It was certainly around lunch time now, he was sure. It wasn't that bad, he told himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gripping onto the counter with his other hand. It'd go away ( Read more... )

rp, ddhw, eight

Comments 49

incorrigibledoc July 10 2007, 02:39:55 UTC

The Doctor was late. He couldn't be positive about this fact, since there was no time, but since he had been sequestered in the library long after he'd grown hungry, he was sure that he was late.

The banquet room was empty; the lunch crowd, and presumably Wilson, had come and gone. Damn. Well, it was closer to tea now, so perhaps he could dig up the oncologist for that instead. With that hopeful thought, the Doctor set off down the halls, counting at the doors until he reached 108.

He knocked sharply on the door. "Wilson?" he called. "Wilson, it's the Doctor. I'm so sorry I missed you for lunch, I got a bit distracted. How about tea?" There was silence, so the Doctor knocked again. "Wilson, are you in there?" Perhaps he'd gone to the Conservatory again...

mcgill_pride July 10 2007, 03:10:07 UTC

Wilson raised his head off the pillow and turned his face to glance at the door over his shoulder. He knew that voice. After looking down at himself - rumpled clothes and unbuttoned sleeves - he looked back up at the door and heard the Doctor call his name again.

Oh, he didn't want to be seen this way. But he tried to sit up in spite of this. A wave of nausea overcame him and he rested his head back against the pillow, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth again. When he opened his eyes, he could see his hand trembling in front of him. So he closed them again. He considered calling out and apologizing, but it would take too many sentences to explain. It wasn't a matter of being rude; it was just easier if the Doctor assumed he was sleeping.

God, his head hurt. And he was thirsty. Why hadn't he refilled his glass when he'd been in the bathroom? He curled up a bit more and pressed his fist against his damp forehead in an effort to stop the shaking. It was travelling up his shoulders now and he almost felt cold despite sweating.

incorrigibledoc July 10 2007, 03:33:31 UTC

Upon receiving no answer, the logical thing would be to go and search for his friend elsewhere. He might be in the Conservatory, or the Library. He might have gone out for some air. He might be in the shower. He might ( ... )

mcgill_pride July 10 2007, 03:48:29 UTC

"Yeah," Wilson replied in a scratchy voice, squinting as he looked at the Doctor. His throat was somewhat raw from being sick. The Doctor's voice was low and soft but Wilson winced anyway, probably from opening his eyes. He'd kept the light on but turned his lamp off ( ... )

Thread 49