"I'm starting to think saving me is overrated. Don't think I need saving, actually!" The Doctor was definitely recovering far earlier than any human should have, fixing a critical look at Amy and thinking that she looked downright ugly, all harsh lines and an inhuman sort of glint in her eyes. "Off with you, then! I'm busy. Go on!"

He flexed his fingers. Maybe he couldn't escape, but his head was clearing up and he could feel his hands and feet again, which was as promising as the fact that both hearts seemed to be beating just fine and he was sure they weren't alone in the interrogation room now. The Doctor looked at Amy, really looked at her, and it occurred to him that a human's face shouldn't be bubbling in and out. This wasn't his Amy Pond. This wasn't the girl who waited all those years just to take a cricket bat to his head first chance she got. This wasn't the young woman who kept marrying and un-marrying herself.

The Doctor wasn't sure what this was.

He ignored Amy as if she wasn't there, trying to struggle himself and try to work at the restraints as best he could without some imaginary friend being absolutely useless. Sweat beaded and rolled down his skin, his hair matted to his head as he began to revive further from the drug that Sobek had been pumping into him.