While Jack and Martha were talking, Debra was trying to calm down Mr. McCrimmon, who was distraught over the new arrival, "There's something wrong about that man. He hurts to look at. He's wrong and he wants to hurt me. He thinks I did something really bad, and for all I know, he's right. What was it he said about hurting my family? Or was it his family? Oh," he said, closing his eyes and holding his head in his hands, "my head feels like it's bursting. Please, can I have my pills back? This isn't going to end well."

"Mr. McCrimmon, I think you've used these pills as a way to keep from facing frightening things too long. Who knows what's even in them? I'm sorry, but until we know what kind of pills Dr. Saxon gave you, I can't give them back to you." Debra paused, "I never saw it before because I wasn't looking, but now that I'm thinking about it…since you've arrived here, every time there's a global catastrophe, you hide away. I know it's very scary – it scares all of us, but you need to learn to cope. It's the only way to get healthy. Don't you want to get out of here someday?"

"No," declared McCrimmon, opening his eyes and looking at Debra, "Dr. Jones says that my nightmares aren't nightmares, but memories. If that's true, I don't want to go back to the real world. I don't want to keep fighting monsters, I don't want to be one, and I don't want to lose anyone else!"

"Anyone else?" Debra questioned. "But in all this time in the hospital, I've never seen you get close to anyone. Is that what all this is about? Who did you lose?"

"I don't remember, and I don't want to remember the pain, don't you understand? In those dreams…no, nightmares, I keep losing people. Some die, some disappear, and others are left to forget me. However they go, I'm always alone, and I can't bear that emptiness to be real. In one of those nightmares, I spent billions of years all alone except for a monster that was chasing me. Can you imagine the horror? Over and over again, it kept chasing me. I could barely sleep or eat, it was always a step behind… until finally, it killed me. Only I didn't die. I don't die easily, so instead, I dragged myself up stairs and down corridors only to kill myself so that I could live again. And that wasn't even the worst part. Every time I wake up from the nightmare, I still feel completely alone and so, so scared."

Debra could see tears in Mr. McCrimmon's eyes, and he was obviously in distress. "But don't you see? You're not alone. Martha and Mickey came back for you. They seem to care deeply for you. Isn't it possible that you're only seeing the bad and not the good?"

"Then explain the other one. He came in yelling at me. How are you going to spin that?"

Debra was quiet for a moment, wording her response carefully. "I don't know why he was yelling at you, but let's look at it this way. You've been here for years and any violent tendencies you might've had are gone. While Martha seems to have some strange ideas about you, the fact is that you are a completely different person than you were ten years ago, which is the last time the man could have possibly seen you. Let's say he's right and a man with your face did horrible things. You're not that man, and after all this time, and all the therapy, in my professional opinion, it's unlikely that you ever will be again. It's time for you to forge a new life, and maybe Martha can help."

"But if I'm a complete stranger, why would any of them want to help me? Don't you see? Anyway you spin it, I'm alone. So, why can't you all just leave me to my flowers? At least they won't try to change or attack me."

"I'm sorry for that," Jack said as he was walking into the room. "It was my mistake. You just looked a lot like someone I used to know. The name's Jack Harkness." He put his hand out, which McCrimmmon begrudgingly accepted. As they were shaking hands, Jack looked into the old man's eyes. "She was right. I can just barely see it in your eyes. It is you!"

"What?!" McCrimmon squawked, taking his hand back.

Jack continued, unheeded. "Jamie, do you mind if I call you Jamie?" McCrimmon shook his head. "I don't know what all Martha told you before I barged in, but we're you're friends. We knew you from before you went by the name Jamie."

"What do you mean? I've never met you before. And a few minutes ago, you looked like you were going to punch me. What did Dr. Jones tell you to make you suddenly nice to me?"

"Please, call me Martha." Martha jumped in. "We've been through too much for you to be so formal."

"What do you mean we've been through too much? You were my doctor for what, a night? And you weren't even a proper Doctor. I scared you and then you passed me off to the psych ward. Is that what we've been through? Because, I'm sorry missy, YOU did not go through that. That was just me. ALONE."

Martha looked near tears, "But I didn't know –"

McCrimmon continued his rant, "Then, I don't see you for a decade, and suddenly you realize that you know me. Really? How does that work. I mean it's not like I changed my face."

"Well actually," Jack interrupted, "You have changed your face."

"What, like some Scooby Doo villain?" McCrimmon asked.

"You watch Scooby Doo?" Jack sounded surprised.

"I was a danger to myself and others, and spent the better part of a decade non compos mentis. Do you really think they're going to let us watch anything more challenging than a cartoon?"

Martha cringed at the revelation, "I'm really sorry for what you went through, and I know it sounds strange, but he's right. You do have a different face. I didn't recognize you from your looks, and I didn't know you when we first met."

McCrimmon was confused, tired, and looked as if he were ready to bolt from the room, "But he just said that you knew me before! Which is it?! Nothing you say is making sense. You're just trying to confuse an old man."

"Doc-, I mean Jamie," Jack began, "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. She's telling the truth. When she met you at the hospital, she didn't know you. But the thing is, you're a time travelling alien. You just met in the wrong order."

"What," McCrimmon said derisively, "I'm some sort of shapeshifter? You've been watching too much Star Trek. I don't know what your game is, but I'm done listening with you. I don't have anything you can steal from me, so please just leave me alone and go annoy somebody else."

With that, McCrimmon stood up and left without a backward glance at the others.