1
Ianto sat silently as he looked around the cold interview room.
How the hell did he get here?
Without Lisa, he wasn't even sure who he was anymore.
He let his head fall back as he stared at the ceiling, counting the water stains from the level above.
He sighed and let the fingers of his right hand slide up his left wrist and fondle the scars running down the inner forearm.
His medical records said these were from a weevil attack in his early time at Torchwood, the reason he was moved to the archives and off active duty.
He was quite proud of that piece of fabrication.
He had lost so much, been sacrificed for the better good. Gladly, he had given himself for the human race, forced to watch his brother calmly sign his death warrant and walk away before Torchwood took him.
He never had liked him, even when they were little.
When the baby came along, he all but disappeared as the two younger children bore a resemblance to their father's side of the family.
He had always been an outsider.
First blood for the family to prove their loyalty to queen and country. Blah, blah, blah.
If it wasn't for Lisa, he would have rotted.
When it all went down, when hell came to the tower, she had run to him. God, in the small interactions between them as she fed and cared for him like a good little handler, he had learnt something of worth.
Shame she hadn't learnt the number one rule.
He had hoped he would succeed. He is a man of his word and he promised he would move heaven and earth to try to save her.
In the end, this man. This fool who signed away his freedom for humanity almost destroyed the very thing he had sacrificed himself for.
He knew she was un-savable.
Maybe he always knew.
It did pass the time though.
.
.
.
Come on, who can guess his secret?