Dr. Constantine's laugh becomes an ugly cough, and he drops to a chair. At the Doctor's concern, Constantine just shrugs: "Dying, I should think -- I just haven't been able to find the time. Are you a doctor?" The Doctor says he has his moments. Dr. Constantine suggests that he examine the bodies, but warns him not to touch the flesh. Of any of them. The Doctor uses his screwdriver to examine the bodies, and reports to Constantine: "Massive head trauma, mostly to the left side. Partial collapse of the chest cavity, mostly to the right. There's some scarring on the back of the hand, and the gas mask seems to be fused to the flesh, but I can't see any burns." Constantine sends him to investigate another; the same symptoms present: "This isn't possible." He checks out body after body: "Identical, all of them! Right down to the scar on the back of the hand!" Dr. Constantine shifts slightly, looking down at his own scar, and explains that when the bomb first dropped, there was a single victim, who was thought dead: "By the following morning, every doctor and nurse who had treated him -- who had touched him -- had those exact same injuries. By the morning after that, every patient in the same ward had the exact same injuries. Within a week, the entire hospital. Physical injuries as plague. Can you explain that?" He asks the Doctor for a guess at the cause of death, and after a million guesses, again with no: "There wasn't one. They're not dead." He hits a trashcan with his cane, and they all sit up. It's awful.
The Doctor is alarmed, but Constantine seems to think it's no big: "They're harmless. They just sort of sit there. No heartbeat, no life signs of any kind. They just...don't die." THAT IS NOT OKAY! The Doctor asks if anybody's doing anything for them, and -- as they lie back down -- Constantine says that he's doing what he can to make them comfortable. The Doctor: "Just you? You're the only one here?" And Dr. Constantine replies that, before the war began, he was a father and a grandfather, and now he's neither, but he's still a doctor. "Yeah, know the feeling," says the Doctor, coming as close as this show can to saying it out loud: he's not just a doctor -- he's The Doctor. He brings grace because that's all he has left. Constantine surmises that the (very effing excellent) plan is probably just to blow up the hospital and blame it on the Germans. But it's not that simple, because people are starting to crop up elsewhere around London. Now that Jamie's out -- but Constantine doesn't know that. He starts coughing again, and the Doctor starts forward, but Constantine tells him to stay back: "Listen to me: top floor, Room 802. That's where they took the first victim, the one from the crash site. And you must find Nancy again." OMG he's like Aslan with the instructions already. He tells the Doctor that Nancy knows the child is Jamie, her brother, and that she knows more than that, but is cagey: "She won't tell me, but she mi-- mi--" He gags and clutches his neck, and calls the Doctor "Mummy." Then horrific things begin to go on with his face: his lower face extends into the snout of the mask, and his eyes bulge out into the bright circles of its eyes, and his body goes limp. "Brother?" asks the Doctor. Indeed. I'm quite partial to stories about just one guy, on the ship or the boat or whatever -- just that one guy who's left, and what it takes, and where do you get the strength to be that guy? And with Constantine and Nancy, that's two small heroes nobody knows about except us. Brother indeed.