A/N: Due to the positive response I've received with this new fic, I've decided to post the next few chapters of this fic, as mentioned previously.

Over the next few weeks, Ianto divided his time between taking care of Joe and attempting to establish some form of communication between them, and searching the archives for any records that might give him a clue as to Joe's identity. It wasn't easy, not knowing his name, but Ianto did have a couple of scraps of information to go on.

Spence had said that Joe had been captured by Torchwood Three one hundred and six years ago. That made it 1899, and needless to say there was no one who would still be alive from the era to remember. There was, however, someone in Standard Archives who had dealt with the incorporation of Torchwood Three's archives into Torchwood One's, back in 2000 when that Alex fellow slaughtered his entire team.

Sylvia Turner smiled affectionately as Ianto placed a cup of coffee in her hands before sitting beside her. They'd met in Hyde Park, well away from Canary Wharf and Torchwood Tower, because it was well known that the walls had ears.

"We miss you, Ianto, love," she greeted him, and he indulged her in allowing her to hug him.

"You mean you miss my coffee," Ianto teased lightly, and she laughed.

"Guilty as charged. Oh, honey, it's good to be able to talk to you again. Now tell, is it true you're looking after him?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. He didn't need to ask her to elaborate.

"You're only the second person I've come across who hasn't called him 'it', you know that?"

Sylvia smiled gently.

"He's still a man, no matter how different he is. Don't let them bully you into thinking otherwise, Ianto."

"I won't," he promised. "Sylvia, how much do you know? About Joe, I mean."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"That what you're calling him? Joe?"

Ianto shrugged, trying to cover his embarrassment with casual indifference.

"Well, no one will tell me his real name, and I have to call him something."

"No one will tell you, love, because no one knows. Near as anyone knows, Torchwood Three never recorded his name. Those sorry bastards started dehumanising him the moment they got their hands on him."

"You dealt with Torchwood Three's archives. Wasn't there anything about him?"

"I did come across a folder with notes made by Torchwood Three's Alive Guppy. That woman must have been a real shrew, from what I could tell. It outlined your boy's capture, and the reasons for their interest in him."

Ianto stared at her intently.

"How much do you know about him?"

Sylvia glanced around almost guiltily before answering.

"Well, for starters, I know he doesn't stay dead. Dear Miss Guppy's notes highlighted a number of ways they tried to kill the poor love before they apparently gave up and just locked him away from everyone and everything. I know he's over a century old... and, I know he was once the Doctor's companion."

Ianto's eyes went wide. The other revelations were not much of a surprise to him, but that... That was a shock he hadn't been anticipating.

"The Doctor? As in, the Doctor that we're trained to identify for capture?"

"That's right. There are pictures, if you know where to look. Remember that mysterious disturbance in Cardiff about eight months ago? Well, there are pictures of the Doctor... the same Doctor who turned up when that spaceship crashed into Big Ben... a young woman and your Joe."

Ianto was reeling with the unexpected news, his mind trying to come to grips with how Joe could have possibly been in Cardiff with the Doctor eighteen months ago, when at the same time he had obviously been locked up within the Secure Archives of Torchwood One in London. He decided after a moment that he was better off simply not thinking about it.

"So... if I wanted to get Joe out of Torchwood, the only way to save him would be to find the Doctor."

"I'm going to pretend that I never heard you say that, sweetheart," Sylvia said quietly. Ianto shook his head roughly.

"I can't just sit back on my arse and do nothing, Sylvia. The Director gave me open slather with him for six months, and after that they plan to start running tests on him again. I can't stand by, knowing that they're going to hurt him again. I can't."

"Just be careful, love. This is Yvonne Hartman you're talking about going against, and that woman is ruthless. She'll tear you to pieces, Ianto, if you give her an excuse."

"I'll be careful," Ianto promised. He glanced at his watch, and stood up with a sigh. "I have to get back. It's wash time for Joe."

Sylvia smiled.

"Wash time?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking. I'm trying to teach him to wash himself, but it's a bit difficult because he still won't let me get too close to him. I just want to take away any excuse Dr Spence might use to hose him down."

On impulse, Sylvia leaned over and hugged Ianto.

"You're a good, kind boy, Ianto Jones, and I pray that the day won't be too far off when your Joe will be able to tell you how much he appreciates everything you're doing for him."

"One day at a time, Sylvia," Ianto said with a sad smile. "One day at a time."

Two days after his clandestine meeting with Sylvia, Ianto awoke with a pained groan. He knew instantly what was wrong. Toby Green had turned up for work yesterday coughing and spluttering fit to die, and insisting that he had too much work to do to take time off. Consequently, everyone in Secure Archives had been exposed to whatever nasty little virus the man had.

Ianto groaned, and promptly fell into a painful coughing fit. He was going to kill Green.

It took him the better part of half an hour just to summon the strength to get out of bed and into the bathroom, and by the time he'd managed to shower himself, he knew damn well that he wasn't going to make it to work that day, and probably not the next, either. He collapsed back into bed and, with some effort, managed to call the Institute firstly to notify the Powers That Be that he was sick and unable to work, and secondly to speak to Gage Adams, and beg him to take care of Joe until he was fit to go back to work. Gage was the only one he trusted to feed Joe, and ensure that he was treated decently.

Promise given, Ianto finally gave up on all rational thought and lapsed back into a fever-induced sleep, from which he would not awaken again for another forty-eight hours.

tbc...