Ill... part 2

Turlough awoke from the darkness to a murmur, dim and distant, and moaned softly. His eyelids were heavy, and he couldn't open his eyes to see. But he was becoming aware of a voice. It was calm, warm; somehow familiar, speaking in hushed tones to... itself? No, no, there was another voice as well, higher and lighter, more feminine.....

    Tegan! The Doctor! Of course!!

Turlough struggled to move in response to the voices, wishing to rejoin the land of the living, of light, and of sound; but his body was frozen, too weak to stir. After a moment he gave up and lay still in frustration, trying to tune into the conversation taking place around him. Words took form to comfort him. The Doctor was speaking again.

"Tegan, I must go back to the console room. Something's happened to the TARDIS, I have to find out what. I have to make sure she's all right."

"What do you want me to do?" Tegan asked, sounding flustered. "Baby-sit?"

"Just keep an eye on him, please?" the Doctor requested. "If he wakes up, come and tell me. And... erm... take his temperature, or something. Make sure he's okay. Okay?"

"Okay..." Tegan sighed. Turlough heard the Doctor's retreating footsteps and tried again to move, to no avail.

"Doctor!" he thought loudly, trying to force the word out of his mouth, but all that left his lips was a muffled squeak. He didn't particularly want to be left alone with Tegan. He'd rather speak with the Doctor. The Doctor would know what to do. The Doctor might be able to help. Most of all, the Doctor might have some idea of what the heck was going on. Turlough certainly didn't. And he was very frightened now, after having blacked out, and now, to top it all off, he was mute and paralyzed?

There was a squeak on the floor. Tegan had pulled up a chair next to Turlough. He could almost see the look of disapproval on her face; frustration from having to spend time next to him. Heavens forbid they were in the same room for more than five minutes at a time. Turlough understood. He knew when he was hated. And Tegan didn't try to hide how she felt about him either. She was always snapping at him and shooting him looks of disgust and disdain. She didn't trust him, and he knew it. But at the same time, something about that was commendable.

Nyssa had accepted him with the same nonchalant, easy-going attitude as she accepted everything. The Doctor had allowed him on board without question. Tegan, however, had decided to be difficult about it. And as much as it bothered Turlough to receive all those dirty looks and blatant remarks, he had to admit, he was almost impressed with her for being suspicious. It showed she had some amount of brains. Had she not been so typically human, it might have almost made him like her.

"You better not be dying," Tegan said, interrupting Turlough's train of thought. "That's the last thing we need..."

Turlough's ears perked up at the words. Tegan had sounded annoyed, as always, but there had been something else in her voice that he had picked up on. She had almost sounded worried...

Experimentally, Turlough tried to open his eyes and found, to his relief, that he could. Pleased, and now curious, he opened his left eye just the smallest bit to see Tegan sitting a good few feet away. And she looked CONCERNED! Turlough had to contain his shock. Tegan Jovanka actually cared. Oh, if she knew he had seen her look at him like that...

Turlough moaned and turned over, making like he had only just woken up now. He heard Tegan sit up with a start.

"Turlough?" she asked, still with a small hint of concern. Turlough blinked his eyes open and looked around dizzily. He was in his room. He was in his bed. Across from him, Tegan sat, her face unreadable.

"Are you all right?" she said. Turlough nodded slowly. He watched Tegan, observing as her concern literally evaporated and her expression returned to the one she normally wore when looking at him. He supposed that if he was all right, concern was no longer necessary...

"How did I get here?" he croaked. Tegan frowned.

"The Doctor carried you in. He figured it'd be better for you to wake up here than on the TARDIS floor... you passed out, Turlough..."

"I... I know..." Turlough rasped. Tegan didn't seem impressed.

"I'm apparently supposed to take your temperature," she said. "I think Nyssa probably had a thermometer in her room, I'll go see what I can find."

"Okay." Turlough paused, thinking. "Thank you, Tegan."

"Hmph."

Slowly, Turlough rolled onto his back as Tegan left. He wasn't really offended. Anger was Tegan's safe zone, and he knew that. Besides, he was still getting over the fact that she was worried about him. No amount of her acting could change the fact that she had, a moment ago, been genuinely concerned. He wouldn't mention it to her though. It would only frustrate her. And at the moment, frustrating Tegan was the last thing on his mind.

- - - - -

"Can I take it out now?" Turlough mumbled tiredly around the thermometer in his mouth.

"Shush, no," Tegan said quickly, shooting him a look. Turlough sighed, half closing his eyes and watching the TARDIS walls. All the white in the room was starting to give him a headache. He was looking forward to when Tegan left: she had promised to turn the lights off so he could get some rest. At the same time, he wasn't sure he wanted to be left alone... not after what had just happened...

Maybe I'm just sick, he thought hopefully. Perhaps the Guardian has nothing to do with it... Turlough waited. But there was no sharp, sudden pain to answer his question. No chilling, black voice with dark confirmation. Just Tegan, mumbling something about germs as she took the thermometer back and Turlough watched her read it.

"Well, you definitely have a fever," she said, looking down at him. Anyone with any sense could have told you Turlough had a fever. His face was burning hot, and his ginger hair had been plastered to his forehead with sweat. His skin was white as a sheet, and his freckles stood out unnaturally on his nose and cheeks. He looked absolutely pitiful. "Do you feel at all better?"

Turlough shook his head as best as he could. "I feel ill..."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Tegan said, sounding way less 'sure' than she had wanted. Turlough looked up at her weakly.

"You really think so?" he asked. Expressions betrayed him. He looked scared. Tegan bit her lip.

"Sure I do," she said, uncertainly. "I mean, you can get some rest, I'll talk to the Doctor, we can find out what's wrong... You'll be all right. I mean, even if - hey!" Something inside Tegan clicked, and she put her hands on her hips. "You trying to make me worry about you?" she demanded.

Turlough chuckled, giving her a very weak version of his usual wry smile. "Is it working?" he murmured.

Tegan frowned as best she could, but her eyes were laughing. "You'll have to do better than that, Turlough," she snapped, trying to play along. "I won't be won over so easily."

"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. You do that." Tegan looked back at the thermometer in her hand. "I'm gonna go talk to the Doctor. You get some rest."
"All right..."
"And don't die, okay?"
"I'll try my best not to."
"Good."

Tegan began to walk away, flicking the light off as she went out. "G'night, Turlough," she said, looking back at him before shutting the door. She would not be made to care.