It had been a perfectly normal day for Ianto Jones. The rest of the Torchwood team had arrived at work (excluding Jack, who slept there), played a game of modified basketball haphazardly around the equipment, created a mess at their desks, and then hurried off on another one of their impossible yet frequent wild goose chases. Ianto, of course, had stayed back, keeping an eye on everything and making sure all was spick and span, just like he did and had every day.

On calmer days, such as the one he was living today, where the team didn't bring trouble to the Hub or there wasn't an aggressive, blood-thirsty alien species attempting to enslave the entire human race, Ianto would occasionally become idle. He did his job well, being mostly just the ghost that quietly and swiftly does the house work. It's not as though he was inept in the field of making friends; he in fact had been very close to someone once, but that someone was now lost, her body having been transformed partly and her mind having been lost in the process. Ianto hadn't made an effort to love anyone since then. The closest he ever was to making close friends, excluding the Torchwood team, was the employees at the pizza shop that he always ordered from. (The pizza, like everything else he strived for, was not just for him, but for the others as well.)

Ianto was collecting the tea cups that the others had sipped from at breakfast time before they all rushed off (Owen looking particularly sad about leaving his pastry), and drove off tumultuously in the black vehicle with which they always crowded (and nearly destroyed) on their many treks. As Ianto did so, the empty room was filled with the call of trickling water and sharp clicks as the ceramic cups clinked together. The near silence haunted him as he was left with his own, tortured thoughts.

Yes, now it was really feeling like an ordinary day.

He walked out the door, his mind a reflective pool, his thoughts away from his surroundings. Perhaps this is why he failed to notice it the first time, why he didn't hear the footsteps. But suddenly, he did, and he nearly dropped the teacups as his heart thumped loudly in his ears, which were growing warmer by the second.

Ianto knew fully well that what he was hearing could not be Jack, Gwen, Owen, or Toshiko. They always came in loudly, or at least announced their arrival. And Ianto always knew when they were back, because, well, he was always there to greet them. He was certain it wasn't the team – and yet, he didn't want to believe it.

There was a breach. Someone was in the Hub.

Ianto silently and hastily stepped towards a computer, planning to trigger a lockdown of the base. He didn't wish for anything to escape, or for anything else to find its way in. After all, once a rat's made a hole, others can easily burrow into it. He also knew he should call Jack, alert him of the problem, because it really was the only choice that never demanded brewing over the possible consequences, or worry. A problem occurs, and it's time to call the boss.

Something came over Ianto's mouth, gagging him and causing a very unpleasant sound to escape his throat. Large, calloused hands held him still while another pair tied the bandana that filled his mouth. He was swiftly redirected and pushed into the chair that sat in front of Toshiko's desk, where many monitors hummed melodically, and cast a blue glow onto the face of two men, one with pitch-black eyes and the other with sympathetic, large brown ones.

Ianto's eyes went wide, and he wouldn't have been able to speak even if he hadn't been gagged with a bandana. For as he watched, the shorter of the two men, the one with the black eyes that reflected the light from the ceiling above, blinked, his eyes switching in a moment to a bright, sparkling green color.

"Alright," the green/black-eyed man said in a loud, harsh tone. "Here's how it's gonna be." He pulled something strange from under his frayed green jacket. It was covered in dark, flaking dry blood, and looked like a large, flattened jawbone, pasty white with a crooked row of scarlet-stained teeth on top.

"Dean," the taller one yelled sternly, his jaw tightening and becoming more prominent. He furrowed his brow. "You promised you wouldn't use the blade. You promised because you knew that promises are one of the only thing left that's human about you. Don't break it."

The one who had been called Dean scowled deeply, but after being stared at by the massive, brown puppy-dog eyes of the other man for almost a minute, his expression melted. He still rolled his eyes, but eventually handed over the jawbone with great reluctance. Just as soon as it was out of sight behind the taller man's coat, however, Dean brandished yet another weapon, this one a small and sharp-looking knife.

Ianto flinched as Dean stepped forward, pressing the cool blade against his cleanly shaven cheek, despite the disapproving glare he gained from his long-haired partner.

"Listen up, buddy," Dean whispered harshly once he had leaned in close enough to do so. "If you know anything, anything at all, about where the gate is, then you tell us right now. If you don't, well, it's not lookin' too good for you." Then he turned to the other one and gave him a short nod.

Picking a flask out of his pocket and unscrewing the cap, the taller one came closer. Swiftly he splashed some of the flask's content onto Ianto's cringing face. Ianto tried to say something, but only ended up choking on his gag.

The man put the flask away and began to untie him.

"Dude, what're you doing?" Dean said, staring incredulously at him. He put out his arm to stop his partner, but the man merely pushed it back away.

"We can't leave an innocent person tied up, Dean," he began, and Ianto could hear the slight trace of accusation in his tone, like Dean's question shouldn't have even been asked. "He's not a demon."

Ianto frowned, but neither of the arguing men noticed.

"Who cares, Sammy? I don't. He's involved in this whole thing somehow, and just because he doesn't smoke when splashed with holy water, doesn't mean he's an innocent man!"

"Dean, you're overreact-"

"I bet he's guilty of some damn thing, everybody is. What is it, huh?" Dean said, putting his face menacingly close to Ianto's, his eyebrows furrowed and his green eyes scrutinizing. "Lying, cheating, stealing, not paying your taxes, killing-"

"You said you wouldn't let this happen."

Dean halted, though he very much looked as though he could still go on for quite a while longer.

"Let what happen?"

The long-haired man, whom Dean had called 'Sammy', responded with a saddened glance toward Ianto, then down at the knife in Dean's hand, and finally back up into Dean's eyes.

Dean rolled his eyes. He handed the knife to Sammy, then stormed out the door that the two must've come through before Ianto knew they were there. As he went, he mumbled something low under his breath: "This timeout rule is freakin' stupid."

When Dean had left the room, Sammy turned back to his hostage with a small, embarrassed smile on his face. "Sorry about him," he apologized with sincerity. "He hasn't been himself recently."

Ianto watched as Sammy gingerly removed the gag that had restrained Ianto from saying a word. Now, Ianto let his questions be heard in a flood of nervous unclarity. "What's inside that flask? Who're you? Is…Is 'demon' some kind of code?"

"Well, I'm Sam. That's Dean, you've probably already figured out. He's my… brother. He's different, but still my brother." Sam paused for a moment, looking away briefly as though recalling an unpleasant memory or thought. "Before answering anything else, though, I want to get some info out of you. I know about Torchwood, at least what the internet told me. But really, what is this place?"

Ianto eyed the bulge in Sam's pocket where he knew the knife sat. "That's classified."

Sam smiled, even chuckled a bit, though there wasn't much enthusiasm behind it. "Are you really going to pull that one on me?"

Ianto averted his eyes and kept his mouth shut.

Shaking his head, Sam began to turn away and move off toward the exit. He said, loud enough for Ianto to hear. "Dean's not going to be too happy when I tell him I didn't get any answers. I don't know if I'll be able to keep him from using his knife a second time."

"Wait," Ianto said hesitantly. Sam turned back to face him as he sighed loudly. "This is Torchwood Headquarters. You're in the place where all the excitement happens."

Sam nodded. "And… this is where you take care of the… 'aliens'?"

"Sometimes business takes us out of town, but mostly, yeah."

"'Us'?"

Ianto looked around at the Hub's interior. "You don't suppose I could take up this much space alone, you do?"

Sam chuckled quietly. He finally took the chance to glance around the large, underground room that they were in. It was vast, with lots of open space near the high ceiling, and it was quite dark, with the exception of the pale blue light that flooded from computer monitors. There were desks that were laden with papers, computers, and personal items, and the desks themselves peppered the floor in a random pattern. Wires were everywhere, and the walls were constructed of cement blocks that came in an assorted variety of greys and blacks. Stairs led to an upper level, hallways branched out to separate rooms, and on the wall behind him, Sam found 'TORCHWOOD' printed across the black-and-white brick wall in large and bold letters. The entire place hummed gently, and despite being underground, was actually pleasantly warm. In Sam's opinion, it wasn't nearly as nice as the bunker, but it seemed secure and well-built. Also, it didn't seem so spacious once you looked all around you at the many things scattered about on the floor. "Kind of roomy," Sam commented aloud.

"Yeah," Ianto agreed. "It used to be frigid in here, until Gwen finally convinced Jack to raise the temperature. He said something about being worried for an artifact that requires a cooler environment. Whatever that's supposed to mean."

"Gwen? Jack? How many of people work here?"

Ianto was silent.

"Oh, come on. We agreed on not playing the confidentiality game, remember?"

Ianto hesitated.

"Plus, I have a knife." Not that he would use it. Ianto could tell that Sam wouldn't kill him, he just wasn't so sure about Sam's brother. Dean is who scared him, and was the only reason he was speaking to Sam.

"There are five of us."

Sam frowned. "So…they just left you here while they all went out?"

Ianto shrugged. "I'm more of the caretaker, I guess."

"That sucks."

Neither Sam nor Ianto had spoken. They looked back toward the door, where Dean leaned against a brick wall. He had a careless smile on his face, and for a second he looked like the old Dean, the one who rode about freely in his sleek black car, flirted ceaselessly with random women, and ate pie frequently. Now he couldn't even eat pie because it had salt in it. Sam figured that was the thing he missed most about not being human – the pie.

"So you're the lonely one who is left behind to clean up their mess while they go out and hunt these 'aliens', huh?" Dean said, pushing away from the wall and approaching Sam and Ianto.

"Well…" Ianto tried to think of something to say, to disagree, but came up blank. He didn't want some crazy killer with an American accent to tell him who he was.

"Yeah. Basically, that's it. Sorry, man," Dean said before Ianto had given up on his response. He turned to Sam. "I've calmed down, see? Timeout is over."

Sam nodded, but eyed his brother warily. Ianto, however, had a look of curiosity.

"Before," he began, "when you were tying me up. Why were your eyes black?"

Dean shook his head. "That's a long story that I'm not gonna-"

"You must've been seeing things," Sam interrupted. He exchanged a look with Dean.

"Anyway," Dean said, changing the subject. He took a deep breath. "We need you to do something for us."

"What?" both Sam and Ianto said, though Sam said it with confusion.

"Dean, I thought we were done here."

Dean looked at his brother with a look close to shame. "And I thought you remembered the rules, Sam. We aren't finished 'til we've asked all the questions and are sure. Ianto? We need you to keep us a secret. Don't tell anyone we were here."

"No, no I can't. I've already kept enough secrets from the team. Last time I did, people died."

"Yeah, well if you don't help us out this time, more people are gonna die, trust me."

Ianto frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We're handling it, don't worry," Sam said. "We just need you to do this for us."