He shoots the other a fierce look because he knows exactly what the Doctor is thinking of, and he really, really doesn't want to hear it right now. –enough with the dead people, give it a rest–

The next vocal response is more or less on par with what he thinks he should be hearing and he nods emphatically. "And I don't want to be raped by cold medical instruments on a lab table with electrodes attached to my head. So shape up." He fiddles with his cuffs, then turns sharply and starts heading in the direction of the main entrance.

Then pauses. –Oh, it's too obvious– "She's not going to recognize us, you realise. I mean...." His eyes light up gradually, like flames gathering oxygen. "We could be anyone, Doctor."