trans_9 | A typical Doctor Who companion injury [open, post-rebellion]

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A typical Doctor Who companion injury [open, post-rebellion]

Of all things, Ian hadn't been expected to be bested by a tree. That it was a tree that moved without the wind should have given him a clue, but, well, it was a tree. He'd got too close, it got a good hit in, he'd landed awkwardly and now he couldn't walk.

It was only his ankle and, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, he'd intended to just hobble home. Except that it did really hurt. So halfway there he found the nearest teleport and ended up in the medbay.

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He'd have a few minutes at most before the Doctor sweeps in. He's rather good at appearing where either he's needed or it's generally just awkward, the Doctor nosing about medbay before zeroing in on Ian. He approaches his human while wringing his hands, eyes flicking from the bed to what looks ice on that ankle and then back to Ian.

"Had a bit of a fall?" The Doctor asks. He eyes the ice, rather like he's suspicious to how it's gotten there. After the battle with the Daligig, it isn't surprising to see medbay with more patients than usual, and given that, a twisted ankle is incredible all over again. "You look well," the Doctor adds, fumbling. "I assume you were probably running for your life."

Given how much practice Ian has had to rack up since that day in the junkyard, he expects the human to be better than the average human at it.

Ian didn't see the Doctor until he was approaching. He wished he'd had more time to come up with a good story, but the Doctor's suggestion would work well enough. Plus it was also partly true - that tree might well have killed him.

"I was," he said, not going into detail. "I'm fine, after a bit of ice my ankle will be as good as new." Which wasn't exactly what he'd been told, but was what Ian was choosing to believe.

The Doctor tilted his head, frowning again at that ice. In fact, it looked twice as suspicious now as it did two seconds ago. He decided to try to pointedly ignore the ice for now, focusing on Ian. "Bored yet? Seems like it would be dull being stuck here."

"I am." He sighed. "Which is why I don't come here if I can get away with it."

"Clearly you didn't get away with it this time," the Doctor said, with the ghost of a wry smile. Ian seemed to be tolerating that suspicious ice pack, at the very least.

"No," he agreed, giving a wry smile of his own. "I thought I would, but it turns out that walking on it doesn't do it any good."

The Doctor frowned. "Oddly good point. So, when do you think you can walk on it?" And not have to sit here being bored out of his mind? At least Ian hadn't ended up in the Mess Hall - the Doctor had deemed that the most boring room, just because the food was so offensively bland that the room was a lost cause as well. "I could try to come up with a salve. Gringle, you know."

It would either get that leg sorted or Ian could possibly sprout a small, tiny tentacle or two. The Doctor wasn't sure, he hadn't tested it on a human, actually.

"It shouldn't be long. I just need the swelling to go down." At least that was roughly what the doctor had said.

He tried not to look too worried about the Doctor's salve. "That's very kind you, Doctor, but there's no need to trouble yourself on my account."

The Doctor flapped his hand at Ian. "That's what friends are for! If you change your mind, I can probably come up with something. Has Barbara been around?"

He assumed she would have to check on Ian. She seemed to almost have a sixth sense for this sort of thing.

"Thank you," he said, although he wasn't planning on changing his mind. "She hasn't, but then I've not been here long."

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A typical Doctor Who companion injury [open, post-rebellion]

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