The Doctor nods. Do your worse – or better yet, do your best and hopefully by some miracle he might recover and then Eva could add Miracle Worker to her growing list of skills. “Do Your Best” is preferable, actually!
Then Eva decides to give it a go.
The Doctor almost immediately trying to bat Eva’s hands away and thinking that at the rate she’s going, she’s going to add broken ribs to the rest of the mess. Okay, so that. Not such a good idea. Not one of the best ideas he’d had, he was willing to admit. The Doctor gives a wheezing sort of wheeze that flutters out of him – Eva, good arms on that woman; filing that away for future reference – his hand coming up to rub at his chest and what will probably be several more bruises to add to the splotchy collection of them he already has. Most definitely a case of doing more harm than good. Could be worse. Could be better. His heart is still a glorified lump.
He’s had pet rocks that were more useful.
The Doctor decides in the future he’ll probably tell Eva to keep her hands to herself and not to listen to him. Maybe train her – he almost thinks of her as “his” human, like Jamie and the others –how to tell the difference between one of his brilliant plans and one of the…not-so-brilliant ones she’s better off ignoring. Sometimes he does have those moments.
“Let’s…skip-skip that,” the Doctor gasps. He flaps his hand at her, as if he means to give her an encourage pat on the cheek. It’s a contact thing.
Re: Eleven and Eva
Then Eva decides to give it a go.
The Doctor almost immediately trying to bat Eva’s hands away and thinking that at the rate she’s going, she’s going to add broken ribs to the rest of the mess. Okay, so that. Not such a good idea. Not one of the best ideas he’d had, he was willing to admit. The Doctor gives a wheezing sort of wheeze that flutters out of him – Eva, good arms on that woman; filing that away for future reference – his hand coming up to rub at his chest and what will probably be several more bruises to add to the splotchy collection of them he already has. Most definitely a case of doing more harm than good. Could be worse. Could be better. His heart is still a glorified lump.
He’s had pet rocks that were more useful.
The Doctor decides in the future he’ll probably tell Eva to keep her hands to herself and not to listen to him. Maybe train her – he almost thinks of her as “his” human, like Jamie and the others –how to tell the difference between one of his brilliant plans and one of the…not-so-brilliant ones she’s better off ignoring. Sometimes he does have those moments.
“Let’s…skip-skip that,” the Doctor gasps. He flaps his hand at her, as if he means to give her an encourage pat on the cheek. It’s a contact thing.