TWO

"It's been quite strange. After that non-existent year together, Clive and I decided to give it another go, for our family. And then this happened," Francine explained as she took the kettle off the boil and poured. Jack had decided to accept that cup of tea after all, and now the two of them were in the kitchen, and he was sitting where Clive had been just twenty minutes earlier.

The cup steamed in front of him, and he leaned on the counter with his hands around it, but he did not take a sip. He wasn't British, never had been one for tea – a good cup of American coffee was more his bag. But he'd learned in his long, long travels through the Isles that tea was the perfect way to disarm a Brit, the perfect catalyst to conversation, the perfect way to prove yourself worthy of their trust. All could be revealed over a nice spot of tea.

"I bet that put a strain on your relationship," Jack asked. "Have you gotten remarried?"

"No," she said, pouring out her old unfinished cup into the sink. "We meant to, but what with Martha... we just haven't..."

"I see," he said solemnly.

"But it's been good, mostly," she said, sitting down and pouring some new tea for herself. "I couldn't have handled this on my own, and he does do his share when he's home. I've had to quit my job to be with her, so Clive spends most of his time at work nowadays."

"That's good to hear, I mean, that he does his share," Jack said. He leaned back and began to shrug off his coat. He gently draped the shoulders over the back of his stool. "Now Francine, are you going to tell me about the attack?"

She didn't look at him. She wrapped her hands comfortingly around the warm mug once more, and stared at the white tile beneath. She took a deep breath.

"I wasn't there," she said finally. "It was Tish who saw everything. Or saw nothing, depending on how you look at it."

Jack leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"They'd gone to the cinema together, Martha and Tish. Then I guess they went out for a pint or two, and decided to walk back to Martha and Tom's flat, since it was the closest. Tish said they were laughing a lot, being a bit silly 'cause they'd had a few," Francine smiled tearfully at this, imagining both of her girls happy again. "And then it happened. On the way home from the pub, it happened."

Francine began to fondle her necklace. Absently, she noted that Martha had given her the necklace two Christmases ago. Before the divorce, before the Doctor, before any of it.

"What happened?" Jack probed gently.

"There was, apparently out of nowhere, a blinding light, and an otherworldly scream. Martha yelled for her to 'get down,' and as Tish ducked out of the way into a doorjamb, Martha was hit with some kind of blast. Tish tried to keep her eyes open, tried to see what it was, but the light was too bright. When it faded, there was nothing left, except Martha, sitting on the pavement."

"She didn't see a shape, see any movement within the light, anything?"

Francine stared into her cup. "She says she didn't. She says the light was too bright, she had to close her eyes."

"And Martha was sitting on the pavement," Jack confirmed.

"She was sitting there," Francine whispered incredulously. "Just sitting there, staring at her feet. Tish tried to bring her round, but she wouldn't respond. She was sitting up, eyes open, blinking, conscious... but no response. Tish couldn't even get Martha to her feet."

"So what did she do next?"

"Tish phoned Tom, and he came and carried Martha back to their flat. He tried examining her, but he couldn't find anything physically wrong," Francine explained. Finally, she looked at Jack. "That's when we started taking her to every hospital in the area."

"What did they say?"

"They all said the same thing," she told him. She adopted a mock-official, institutional tone. "That she's showing outward signs of deep neurological damage, but CAT scans show no physiological anomaly. They could tell us no more. And what were we supposed to say? That she was most likely the victim of an alien attack, and that they should check for signs of extraterrestrial interference?" She chuckled bitterly.

"So that's when you called the Doctor," he said.

She sighed. "Yes. By then, Tom was already gone. I think he always found Martha's ties to the Doctor a bit wearing anyway, and to see her in a walking stupor like that as a result of some alien wiles, well... I try very hard not to feel bitterly towards him. He's just one man."

She took an unnecessarily long sip out of her mug.

"How long before he was able to get here?" asked Jack.

"Just like you, he showed up on our doorstep the next day with an earnest look on his face and an eagerness to help," she told him, her voice having dropped half an octave.

"Were you with him the whole time that he was with her?"

"Yes, both Clive and I," she insisted. "We escorted the Doctor up to her room, opened the door, and that's when the screaming began. He tried... but I've told you what happened. He wasn't in the house five minutes total. When he left, he had scratches on his face and hands that were oozing blood."

"And he just... left?"

"He offered to stay, but Clive told him to go. He promised he'd be back when he found the answer, but we haven't heard from him since," Francine said, taking another long sip.

"Well, in his defence, it would be hard for him to find the answer if he can't get near enough to examine her," Jack explained. "And if all Tish saw was a bright light, then it will be a long while before he'll be able to narrow down the culprits enough to be of any help."

"That's what we've tried to tell ourselves," Francine said slowly. Her eyes narrowed once more, and her gaze fell on Jack's face. She sat staring for a long, uncomfortable moment. "She trusted him, Jack. She loved him."

"I know," Jack said, taking her hand. "But let's not jump to conclusions, Francine."

She began to weep, once again, and as she spoke, her voice escalated. She was a mother, and her grief was bigger than she was. "I just know that she's suffering in there, inside her head. I know that it's horrible and it's destroying her and it's not getting any better. I know that whatever's inside is keeping her trapped there, keeping her silent. And I know what I saw, Jack, I know that she recoiled from him, kicked and screamed and fought him like her life depended upon it! A mother can sense certain things, and in that moment, I knew, Jack, I knew that whatever has stolen her mind, it's to do with the Doctor!"

"Okay, okay," he said, taking her other hand, trying to soothe her.

"What did he do to her?" she pleaded, her eyes imploring him for answers, her voice high-pitched and straining through tears.

"That's what I'm here to find out," Jack assured her.