A/N: Hello! I just thought I'd quickly give a more descriptive overview of what my story is about... As the title suggests I have used the idea of Ianto keeping a diary (as mentioned in the series) as the main stimulus and have written extracts which correspond to the various missions the team face and for some which I have made up. I wanted to try and give Ianto a bit more of a voice, he has always been my favourite character from Torchwood and I feel that, in series 1 especially, he just sort of faded in to the background. I hope to be able to shed light on what his opinions may have been on the missions, on the other members of the team and on his feelings regarding Jack. I welcome all reviews, both complementary and critical so feel free to leave feedback. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing! Hannah xxx
NB: I am only going to say this once (it's too much effort to keep writing it!) as predicted I own nothing sadly, all characters etc are properties of the BBC and Russell and the gang.
I'd been working at Torchwood one as a junior researcher for coming up to 18 months when it happened.
Torchwood held the reputation of action and excitement and adventure but for the majority of this time I had stayed behind a desk, dedicatedly completing reports for the duration. All of the most crucial historical and scientific research required for the safe completion of any Torchwood mission was thanks to the research department, and I felt proud to be a part of it. I thoroughly enjoyed the research. I was keen to broaden my knowledge and eager to please, so I worked long hours, longer than most, to produce lengthy and detailed reports that I hoped were useful. The hard work put in often went un noticed but it didn't bother me much, I am more than content with spending several hours with just, a laptop, a couple of books and coffee machine for company.
A part of me always wondered what it would be like to be out on the field, on a proper mission, my mission. But at the same time something terrified me about the prospect of it. I have never had the greatest amount of self-confidence, books and logic were safe, easy, but the field was tough. You had to be the best and the thought of not being good enough, of letting down the team because of my mistake was enough to put me off. Because of this my work in the research department came to suit me rather well, I got live in the world of the Torchwood from the safe confines of my cubicle.
I met Lisa on just my second week here at Torchwood. She was a researcher on the floor above mine, and one day when the coffee machine on our floor was broken I was sent upstairs by the boss.
She was sat at her desk piled high with what appeared to be half a forest worth of paper, her laptop balanced precariously on uneven stacks and had a book in each hand. A woman after my own heart, disregarding the mess, but I was fairly sure I could put up with that.
She hadn't noticed me looking at her yet. Her intensely brown eyes appeared sharp and focused the look of concentration in them, as she stared from the screen, to book, to book. Her smooth almost-black hair was pulled back into a bun to stop it from distracting these concentrating eyes, but just a few small strands had escaped at the base of her head and hung delicately down the back of her neck. She had on a red dress with a black blazer, I had always liked red. She seemed to perfect to be real.
Soon enough, she noticed me looking at her and smiled at me, I smiled back. I had almost forgotten the coffee by this point and made my way past her desk. Attempting to look cool and casual as I did so, probably unsuccessfully, not that it mattered after what happened next. After pouring the coffees what do I decide to do? Spill them both, right there in the middle of the office, just as she was watching me. The thing is it, was so unlike me, I am the opposite of clumsy I take so much care with everything, I put it down to nerves.
Sure enough I started blushing, my classic trick in such situations, as I picked up the cups and threw them away. The only saving grace was that they were paper not china. I planned to leave for my office as quickly as possible, without looking back over to her, and without ever returning!
However when walking back past her desk she apologised, I must have looked bemused for a second because she repeated herself, then added on the end 'for distracting you' and winked at me. She had such confidence and she was right to, she was beautiful and clearly intelligent. I smiled, not quite sure what to say, having always been shy around women, but I figured for once go for it. Besides I was still bright crimson so might as well take advantage of that! I told her that it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help it after all and that if she was available for lunch I wouldn't mind being distracted a little bit more, providing no hot beverages were involved this time. To my surprise and delight she said yes and since we have spent every lunch time together and several dinner times too.
She and I had so many happy days together: picnics, cinema trips, walks on the beach. We were going to move in with each other….
Weeks later and I still can't bear the thought of what has happened to my Lisa, what they did to her. Remembering all of this, how happy we were, how normal everything seemed, it hurts so much. The memories ache. But the thought of losing these memories, letting go hurts even more so I force myself to remember.
I'm talking like she's dead, although arguably what's happened is worse, she'd have been better off if she had been one of those who died.
Our world was invaded, with Cybermen and Daleks who came through the void. They were fighting each other and the human race for claim over the earth. The Cybermen were the worst, they wanted to upgrade us, make us like them, emotionless demons in metal armour. They began conversion, starting with Torchwood personnel, building up their already enormous metal army. I needed desperately to locate Lisa, to know she was safe, to protect her. But I was trapped on my floor; the electricity was down, the stairs manned by these metal monsters, so I had no hope of leaving the room. We sat, waiting for them to make it to us; we could hear screams echoing all over the building. I frantically dialled and redialled her phone but had no luck, I just kept praying and telling myself that she was ok, she had to be ok. She was the strong one, the brave one; if I was ok she must be alright.
I'm still not entirely sure how everything became 'alright' again; the monsters were sent back to the void from where they came. The rumour was that it was the Doctor himself, risking his life and his friends' lives to save us; I would have gladly risked my life to save Lisa if I could.
Immediately I went searching for her. I ran from floor to floor encountering bodies of colleagues known and unknown, but I couldn't mourn them yet, not till I'd found her and she was safe. When I did find her I almost wished I hadn't. She was writhing on the floor screaming out in pain, plates of metal fused to her skin, half converted into one of them. I said her name and when she replied it gave me such hope that she was still my Lisa, on the inside at least. I embraced her and held on for dear life, never wanting to let her out of my sight again, but she broke off the hug and told me through ragged breath what needed to be done to keep her alive.
Reluctantly I hid Lisa in the basement and left the building to return that night. I took her and a cyber-convertor bed back with me to my apartment; she helped me adapt it into a life support for her.
Since then Lisa has remained hooked up to this awful machine in my living room, and I have stayed with her day and night watching her suffer in agony as the machine keeps her alive but does nothing for her pain. Every day I watch as a little part of her humanity is lost to the monster taking her over; she's strong but not strong enough to fight it. But she's still my Lisa and it's killing me, but she promises that the pain is worth it, to stay alive for me and I am selfish enough that I allow her to carry on.
It feels like now, writing about all of this, is the only thing keeping me sane, I need to express how I feel somehow. I can't talk to anyone about any of this. I'm in no way ready to go back to a job and my only friends to speak of perished that day so there is nothing of an ordinary life for me to cling on to anymore.
I am putting my research skills to use at least, frantically trying to find an expert, or anyone, with knowledge of cybertechnics. No such luck yet. When I'm with her, if I close my eyes or don't look at the metal plating, I can sometimes pretend that everything is normal again, and sometimes I can't pretend, when I am worrying too much about how long it'll be before there is no more Lisa left, and just a monster.
I will get her back to normal, I will help her, and I just have to. I promised her I would try, and I always keep my promises.