Deeply alarmed at Andrew's state (and his own inability to do much about it), Edgar feels panic creep in momentarily. But he fights it down, forcing himself to breathe deeply and slowly through the tightness in his chest. There's really nothing else to do but get Andrew to this TARDIS as quickly as possible. Knowing what that will entail, Edgar grimaces.

We're going to have to give up some steadiness for speed, he tells Andrew. It's going to be rougher going.

Eying the way Andrew is sprawled on his hand, Edgar has an idea. Carefully, he bends his thumb and pinkie finger until the their tips meet just above Andrew's chest. He gently closes the circle they make, fashioning a sort of seat belt around Andrew's middle.

Is this okay? he asks Andrew. It'll help keep you still while I walk, and give you something to hold on to if you need it.