"I think the tentacle released some sort of a healing enzyme," the Doctor said, casually. "Not a cut, not a bruise. And that creature had one hell of a grip."

When in doubt, the Doctor simply ignored. He knew, even as he fiddled about in the cabinets, that ignoring wouldn't last forever. He couldn't ignore, because it only made things worse. It only made injuries fester.

He turned to Jack. He should say something, he decided. He should say something, try to make it better. Try to apologize. Not just a 'sorry, so sorry' apology, but a real apology.

No words came out.