Ianto Jones began the day with murder on his mind.

He had studied every plan, tried to find the point when no one could stop him. He wasn't worried about Harkness, but he had a feeling that he was no match for the whole of Torchwood. And he'd found it. Putting antifreeze in the Captain's coffee hadn't worked, but he didn't think he could possibly fail this time.

So that morning, under the pretense of buying pterodactyl chow, he'd stolen a boat. He wasn't wearing a suit, not today. He couldn't.

"By the way... love the suit."

When the boat landed on the island, Ianto was all set for murder. He didn't much care if anyone found out, so it didn't have to be perfect. At the end of the day, Jack Harkness only had to be dead.

All his thoughts were of Lisa, as he saw the Captain's silhouette, his distinctive coat blown slightly in the wind.

"I love the coat."

Lisa's laugh. Lisa's smile. Lisa's kiss. Lisa beside him, in his arms, watching him work. Lisa happy, Lisa angry, Lisa dead.

Ianto Jones knew how to go unnoticed, and he finally reached forward to grab that the neck of that heartless piece of yesterday's garbage.

He found tight hands around his wrists and eyes, too gentle and calm, staring right at his own.

"Ianto." How could he talk like that? So... him. No care for what he'd done, for what he was.

"I could kill you." The words spilled out, the truth spilled out, and it sounded so calm. "I'm going to."

"And then what?"

"Oh, shut up, you complete—" Ianto yanked his hands away— "pile of— " Jack's grip broke— "absolute stinking shit!"

There was some emotion in Jack's eyes, shock or pain, but Ianto didn't give a damn. He really didn't. He stepped away, took a couple deep breaths, and punched as hard as he could.

"Need me to do any attacking, sir?"

By the time he paused to think he had Harkness pinned to the ground, at his mercy. Ianto could kill him, right then and there.

"You don't even know what you did!" He didn't know whether he was yelling at Harkness or yelling to yell, and he didn't care. "What is it with you, just going about your business, talking about my coffee or Welsh vowels and acting like you were justified? Haven't lost any sleep over it, have you, sir? Look at me. Look at me!"

Jack looked up at the tears falling down Ianto's face, at the sheer rage and grief written all over his face. "And what should I have done, Ianto?" He was still calm, how was he so calm? "You should have tried to save her!"

"There was nothing to save." Jack paused. "I'm sorry, Ianto, I really am, but—"

"Shut up! You have nothing to say to me." Ianto seethed, stared into the distance and saw Lisa, felt Lisa's hand on his shoulder, heard Lisa telling him no, that this wasn't him.

It was him, though. But it wasn't her. It wasn't her.

"Then can I show you something?"

The tour of the facilities ended when Jack noticed Ianto's quiet sobs.

"I could've... I should've..." Ianto kicked a doorframe once the woman had left them alone in an empty room. "It was me."

"No." Jack quietly pulled Ianto into his arms, and for once Ianto didn't resist. He didn't know what to do, what to think or feel. Just that his presumed monster was only a failure. "I should have done more."

"So should I." Ianto slowly responded to Jack's arms, not sure if this was right. This was the man who'd killed Lisa... but he hurt so much. "I'm sorry," Jack whispered into Ianto's hair.

"I was much better off as a coward."