He smiled at her nod of agreement, a small, sad expression that said in more ways than he could that he understood how difficult this was for her. The table prevented him from easily getting too close to Tara to give her a hug or any similar sign of reassurance, but the Doctor worked around that, lifting her hand, still clasped with his, to press it to his forehead before lowering it back to the table, still wrapped loosely with his own.

He was glad he maintained the contact as more of the story came out.

Everything he heard only raised more questions. Where had he been? Why hadn't he stopped this? How had he managed to fail so many people again? Aside from Drusilla's involvement, it had to be linked to him. It was always linked to him. So where had he been then? Why hadn't he seen it coming and done something?

But those weren't the questions he chose to voice, not right now. He could worry about them once he had all the pieces to this puzzle, or at least a corner and some edges to work from.

"And you?" he asked quietly. "What did he do to you?"