Jack watched the video screen in horror, and then glanced back to the currently trapped Ianto. He didn't know how this started. All he knew is that Torchwood had come in possession of a virtual reality machine gone wrong. That tiny scrap of information did not come quick enough, however. In fact, Jack was still totally clueless when he saw Ianto curled up and sobbing on the floor. So, Impulsively, Jack had reached out and touched him. Causing the virtual machine (now obviously a torture device, and Jack wondered idly if there was anything in Torchwood 1 the Doctor WOULD approve of) to form a link between them. Jack's memories were all the machine knew. The machine was looking to hurt its prisoner. It drew from Jack, now hurting Ianto with all it could find. And the silver helmet wouldn't come off until the cycle completed.
Still, he wasn't all to blame. He threw a angry glare at Owen, who had the decency to look ashamed that he had told Ianto it was harmless and asked him to test it. Maybe their rivalry had gone too far. Jack was only thankful that Tosh had finished hooking wires to the machine and the TV so they could see just what about Jack was currently plaguing Ianto.
The device was getting stronger and smarter. Instead of just throwing images of bad things to Ianto, it was getting stronger. It moved by reaction. Jack winced as images of him and Ianto in bed, him in Ianto fighting, him and Ianto and Gwen out on a mission, flew across the screen. It was getting more specific as it went on, and to jack's horror, it didn't decide to throw him what Jack remembered about Lisa or the cannibals. It decided to fill Ianto's head with former lovers, well, more like former loves.
Jack watched as Ianto was quickly flashed pictures of everyone. Soon, Jack couldn't take it anymore. These were people he was trying to forget, he didn't need to watch. "Guys, clear out. I'll stay with him." The team left and Jack sighed. At least, it could be worse. Ianto would probably be more concerned when he woke up. That's when the machine stopped its soft whirring.
Jack blinked, and risked a glance. The memories had stopped, leaving Ianto alone in the white expanse of his brain. Until they started appearing. One by one, lovers, loves, and mates appeared from mist, acting as perfect copies of their real selves. John entered angry, fingering his gun. Hector, from the army in 1840, appeared standing at ease. Ianto, being himself, shook their hands and was polite. Jack chuckled at that. Only Ianto would welcome people into his head so cordially.
Still, Jack could feel the hurt and fear off Ianto. He had a deep seeded feeling that this meeting wouldn't leave Ianto feeling like Jack would remember him, or that he was important. For now, though all Jack could do was watch as everyone he ever loved stepped in the mind of Ianto with malice in their eyes.