Ianto stared nervously at the analogue alarm clock on his night table. The lights had been turned off at 10 pm like the day before, but instead of going to sleep, Ianto sat on the bed with the old squeaky slatted frame and watched the clock hand slowly creep forward from one minute bar to the next.

He'd nicked a few hair clips from the nurses earlier in the day, but he had to admit, the upcoming jailbreak had been poorly planned. He knew hospital security was light and that only one guard would pose no problems. The biggest challenge would be picking the lock on the door and Jack's state of consciousness. So many unknowns. He just knew they had to get out of there as soon as possible.

When the clock struck eleven, Ianto quietly opened his door and slipped into the corridor. The lights were turned off, and the floor was deserted. It had been a long day, and the other nurses were probably fast asleep. Without incident, Ianto arrived at Jack's room one floor down a few minutes later. He peered through the small peephole in the centre of the door.

The room was illuminated by moonlight streaming in through the window.

He saw Jack on his bed but couldn't tell if he was awake, asleep, or unconscious. At the very least, he was alone. Ianto hadn't been sure if Nurse Edwards' special assignment included sleeping in Jack's room at night. She'd been at supper, but the subject of Jack Harkness was never brought up, so he had been none the wiser.

Ianto slowly pushed the door handle down, carefully avoiding any suspicious noise. The door was locked. Ianto pulled the hair clips out of his pocket and bent them into shape. He tried to pick the lock expertly. When he was younger, he had a lot of practice. No door could withstand him and his friends. But none of those doors had been this old. Or maybe the central locking system Nurse Richards had shown him the day before that was causing the issue. No matter the reason, the door refused to open.

Ianto cursed silently.

Disappointed, he rested his forehead against the hard surface of the door. He wondered where the keys were kept, probably in Nurse Richards's office. Ianto was still thinking about the best way to find the necessary keys when he heard a faint noise down the corridor. No, not the corridor. It came from the direction of the large staircase in the entrance hall.

Someone was at the main entrance.

He heard the large doors groan, followed by shuffling and muffled whispers. His inner voice urged him to return to his room and try again tomorrow, but his Torchwood training kicked in, and he crept closer to the stairwell to find out what was happening downstairs. He had a good view of the entrance hall when he peered around the corner. Despite the darkness, he recognised Evan pushing a large box across the room towards the service lift that led to the basement.

Ianto recognised the sound of wailing from within the box. It sounded like a scared Weevil moaning. While trying to make sense of this information, the front door opened, and the two Torchwood agents he'd overheard on the balcony stepped inside, engrossed in a hushed conversation. Ianto strained his ears to hear what they were saying.

"Evan doing all the work is taking way too long, we need at least one more set of hands like it used to be," Griffith grumbled. "Perhaps we should bring in Jack for help after all. It would also save me from having to drive all the way out here; having a driver is far more convenient."

"Oh, shut up, Griffith," Constance said. "You're the first man I've met who doesn't like to drive. I'll take the keys next time. And no, Jack is not an option. I will not have two versions of him in the same building. I'm the adventurous type, but messing with the timeline is not something I strive for."

They watched Evan push the box into the lift. He stepped inside, and the doors closed behind him.

"We can let him help and retcon him later," Griffith shrugged as they awaited the return of the caretaker. "That's how we do it with Evan, don't we?"

Constance let out a sigh. "Yes, but don't forget why we didn't include Jack in our nightly activities in the first place. He doesn't like the way we treat these aliens. He even dislikes it when we throw them in the vaults. What do you think he'd say if he discovered what we do with them once the vaults are full? Be my guest if you enjoy getting entangled in endless debates."

Griffith groaned and shook his head. "No thanks, I've had plenty of that. But, really, everything was so much easier with that nurse helping Evan."

"I agree," Constance nodded. "It's a shame we couldn't go on with Dean. Evan is much easier to manipulate. The higher the intellect, the greater the chance that retcon will fail after too many dosages."

"I heard they have a new male nurse. Perhaps we could use him instead," Griffith suggested.

Constance considered the idea while staring at the closed lift doors. She then shook her head. "He's still too new. Let's see how he adjusts to life at Westwood during the next few weeks. Then we will give it a try. Until then, Evan will do."

"Why is it taking him so long?" Griffith asked impatiently.

"I have no idea. Let's go downstairs and look," Constance replied, calling the lift. A moment later, both had vanished inside, following the caretaker into the basement.

Ianto remained crouched in his hiding spot, processing what he'd just heard. Should he follow them? Maybe not. The risk of detection was too great. He was about to turn around and start looking for the keys to Jack's room when he heard a muffled shriek. A deep, thunderous growl followed the sound of a terrified weevil. The ground shook slightly.

Ianto stopped dead in his tracks. What was that?

He swallowed hard as his heart began racing and drumming against his chest. Adrenaline flooded his veins when he realised something was seriously wrong in this building.

In frustration, he clenched his eyes shut.

So much for his original strategy. This new development made it impossible for him to simply free Jack and flee. If they left now, they'd never know what was happening here.

Strange things happened at Westwood Mental Asylum - strange things in connection with Torchwood.

And it was up to Ianto Jones to solve the mystery.