Torchwood: Exodus Code

towards Jack. ‘He’s family… brother-in-law. He can hear whatever you have to say.’
    Jack smiled warmly at Rhys, despite the worsening headache, and the intensity of the sour taste in his mouth.
    Dr Steele nodded. ‘Very well, but to be honest, I don’t have much to tell you, Mr Williams. Your wife is experiencing a kind of hysterical neurosis and it may be a while before we understand what triggered it.’ She looked from Rhys to Jack. ‘Is there any history of mental illness in your family?’
    ‘Not that I know of,’ answered Jack before Rhys could process the question. ‘And if there is or was, I’d know…’
    ‘There’s none,’ said Rhys, emphatically, glaring at Jack who rolled his eyes and shrugged. ‘But what did you mean, it may take a while? How long is a while exactly?’
    Dr Steele gently touched Rhys’s forearm. ‘With the right combination of drugs, a few days if we’re lucky, and that will allow us to talk with Gwen and examine her without such acute physical symptoms. Her real treatment will depend on how severe the roots of her neurosis are.’ The doctor continued talking to Rhys, but her eyes were following Jack as he shifted to stand at the security glass, staring into the busy ward, his jaw clenched, his hands deep in his pockets.
    ‘If your wife has experienced some kind of trauma that has led to this breakdown,’ she went on, turning back to Rhys, ‘then that will have to be addressed, too, and that may take years.’
    ‘What about these other women?’ interrupted Jack. ‘Are they also suffering from some kind of hysterical neurosis?’
    The doctor walked over next to Jack and followed his gaze into the room. ‘I’m afraid I can’t discuss my other patients with you.’
    ‘Even if they may all be suffering from a similar hysteria? Could this be related to… you know, them all being female?’ asked Jack, looking directly at Dr Steele.
    The doctor looked at Jack, anger flashed in her eyes. ‘This is not the nineteenth century, Mr…?’
    ‘Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness.’
    ‘Captain Harkness, your sister isn’t a character in a Brontë novel. She’s suffering from a very real mental illness that has affected an organ in her body and not, quite frankly, her uterus. The kind of female hysteria you’re implying was nothing more than the patriarchal repressive sexual fantasies of the Victorian medical establishment. Your sister’s brain, like these other women, is suffering from something quite real. The fact that it’s her mind we’re dealing with makes it more complicated and more frightening, but I’m more than equipped to help her.’
    ‘So you’re convinced there’s no pattern to be determined,’ continued Jack, folding his arms, noting the doctor’s mouth twitch slightly. ‘That there’s no related causes in the fact that four females from the same immediate area have experienced a similar hysteria?’
    ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ continued the doctor, her rant picking up steam. ‘Freud might have believed that Gwen was suffering from some uncontrollable emotional tantrum and just because of timing and one or two similarities among these women,’ she swept her hand along the window, ‘that they’re somehow sharing in that suffering. But, Captain Harkness, let me tell you that, despite what you may have read in the media about what happened to these women and to Gwen, mental illness is not contagious and your sister and these other women are not simply hysterical women.’
    Jack nodded and tried to look appropriately contrite.
    ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ She turned back to Rhys. ‘Mr Williams, I’ll keep you posted on your wife’s condition. For now, I’d suggest you get some rest, the days and months ahead could be long ones for you and your family.’
    The door opened again, this time to let one of the nurses out. Gwen’s screams were muted, but Jack could still hear her calling for what now sounded like ‘Schoozie’.
    ‘May I speak to my sister?’
    ‘If you must,’ said the doctor, as she headed towards the elevator, ‘but make it brief. I need her to rest. The medication will help her sleep, but I also need to see her blood pressure and her adrenalin levels come down to much safer levels.’
    When the elevator closed on the doctor, Jack pulled his mobile from the inside of his coat pocket.
    The guard at the desk glared at him. ‘Hey, you can’t use a mobile in here. Give that over.’
    Jack ignored him.
    Rhys was