realityshifted | (no subject)

[oh look, it's a hungry puppy] I'm doing all right. [vanishes with the plate and returns with seconds]

[yay more food! and back to eating, though he does pause to talk, fancy that] Ah, well, suppose I was just wondering. Feeling any better?

Yeah, I'm--

[and then he stops, because for whatever reason, Doctors make him want to be Honest] I don't... I don't really know. How I feel. Taking holiday just means I try to distract myself in the day and hope I make myself tired enough to fall to sleep straight away.

[and finishes off his food, setting down the plate] Sleeping like that is going to wear you thinner.

It's better than not sleeping at all. Or trying to use whisky to put me to sleep. Or spending hours awake going over it again and again.

[looks at him thoughtfully] I prefer staying awake, myself. So instead of being a wreak, you're bored and a wreak? [smiles just a bit because he's joking] Would more practice make you feel better?

Maybe. I'd feel... better prepared.

[pats the, erm, ground next to him] Come on then! No time like the present. Well. I rather like the future, too. And the past.

[sits beside the crazy Doctor!] Fortunately, I can apply to all three.

[laughs] You're a regular time traveler when you say that. [tilts his head] Feel like you're getting a better grasp on this? Closing off things he can latch onto, that sort of thing.

I don't... I suppose so. It certainly isn't easy. Might be making more of a mess of myself instead of fixing it.

Well, you don't mind if I take a look, do you? [holds up his hand] You might be overexerting yourself mentally with this.

[after a long moment, he nods] Go ahead.

[nods and puts his fingers to Sam's temples and shuts his eyes, making Contact] Let's see...ah, yeah, it is a bit tight in here... Taking days off isn't helping you relax much, eh?

Not... really. I'm... I'm a copper, that's who I am. I need it, Doctor. If I can't get it back, I'm as good as dead.

[smirks a little] Now you sound like me. Don't suppose you could solve some smaller cases and build back up? [still poking around a bit in his mind]

[frowning] It... Death smells like whisky and cigarettes. The Guv smells like whisky and cigarettes. My whole bloody department smells like whisky and cigarettes. I don't know if this is something I can fix.

[pauses, tempted to hug him but doesn't] You're not so broken that you can't be fixed. [smiles slightly] You know, in my fourth, I died from falling off a high tower? Still can't stand heights. But I've gotten over it, I suppose. I had to climb the Empire State Building not too long ago. Things can be fixed. I dunno if you'll ever like those smells again but it's better than this, eh?

[and Sam 'hides those bad feelings away,' as his mother taught him do. The doors close off, one by one, as he shuts his pain away] Thanks, Doctor.

[serious voice time] Sam. Don't do that. It isn't going to help. Bottle up something and it'll explode.

Hypocrite.

[snorts, smirking] You're not supposed to look into my head, you know. My point is still valid.

You don't exactly hide things well. [folds his arms, looking over the Doctor] You open up to me, and I'll return the favour.

[gives him a flat look] I happen to think I'm good enough at it. But...all right, deal.

[looks at him, and then glances down] You can start.