Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Well, that's not true. I own things. Just not Torchwood or anything about it. But I own a few books and DVDs. Though my nephew went and colored on one of my books (he colored on The Twilight Streets - y'know the one with Ianto on the cover? When I saw that I stared in horror for a bit).
A/N: Hm. I honestly have no idea what was going through my head when I wrote this. I think I may have been slightly depressed or ticked off. But still, I think I like it.
"You know, Ianto," Gwen said one night when they were both sitting on one of the couches, "you are saner than you should be. I mean, with all that's happened to us-"
Ianto looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "What on Earth are you talking about?"
"Well, it's just that with all that's happened to you - to us - I'm amazed at how you -how we - can still function." Gwen patted his hand.
He snorted a response, "So, you think I'm about as well adjusted as you?"
"Pretty much, yes." She smiled at him, "I mean, We've both been through so many horrors together. I get nightmares about once every week and a half. It's rough."
"Nightmares about once every week and a half?" Ianto's tone was very dry, "Oh, I do pity you for that. After all, I'm sure you've been though so many more horrors than me." His voice mocking. "Because we all know that I am not and fucked up in the head, is that right?" He paused. Gwen just looked at him, seeming to be confused at what he was talking about. "Because, after all, I would love to have only one nightmare every week and a half instead of every night causing me to have insomnia. And that I was one of the few survivors of Canary Wharf, having to hide in the dead bodies of my friends and co-workers in order to not be deleted or exterminated, let alone upgraded. Let's not forget to mention that I was once almost eaten by cannibals. That I get about three hours of sleep a night and barely eat any food and thus have to drink some really disgusting weight-gain drinks.
"Or my OCD that came about from seeing all the blood from Canary Wharf and needing to not see blood everywhere. Or how when I first started here Jack forced me to deal with the dead bodies to try and scare me away and in those dead bodies I only saw my friends who had died in battle. I have seen my lover die countless times always wondering if it will be the last time for him to die or if he'll wake back up. I ran across Flat Holm Island all on my own during Jack's absence, having to deal with it all by myself. And let me tell you that PTSD is a load of fun especially during the holidays when I see commercial's for kid toys that look like robots. Of course we cannot forget that I'm shagging and in a deep relationship with the man who killed Lisa, threatened to kill me, and I threatened to kill him? Oh, and I propositioned him over a dead co-worker's body with a stopwatch. And those are just the big things that make me so sane." With that Ianto stood up briskly, took a breath and then looked down at Gwen and asked, "So, refill on your coffee?"