Worthless.
Really, truly worthless.
"I clean up your messes, no questions asked,"
Isn't that the way to be.
Nothing changes,
Nothing will.
And it's all Ever. So. Sickening.
He knows that.
Too well.
For a moment…
Just a little moment,
He imagines himself actually doing it,
One day.
Finally picking up that knife,
And watching as his lifeblood floods the ground.
It's not like it would matter,
After all.
Nobody cares about him.
Ianto.
Nothing special about him,
Except perhaps he makes good coffee.
Nothing. Special.
That's him.