"Yeah," Jack agreed. He understood, far too well. Gwen made...one hundred fifteen. Fifteen since mid-October. It was difficult to take and for the first time in a long time, Jack felt like maybe Logan had the right idea. You couldn't control it...maybe it was fate...maybe, sometimes, it was okay to float and just wait to see if you'd drown.

He sighed heavily and poured the water, just barely at a boil, then handed the Doctor his cup as it steeped.

"You're not all right," he stated. "What can I do?"