Flash back

"He's in the dayroom," Carl indicated to Jack, who raised his eyebrows in greeting because Ianto was always in the dayroom this time of the day.

"Hello Ianto," Jack said as he went and stood next to him. "I brought you something you might like," he said as he showed him a large book filled with technical drawings of how things worked.

Ianto did not pull his gaze from the garden. "I'll put this in your room, for later," Jack said not at all surprised by the lack of response as he put the book down on the chair. He knew that Ianto would pore over the book later with obvious pleasure. His non-reaction was not an indication of his enjoyment of such gifts. Jack understood this now and had come to accept that Ianto would not react but later if he found the book in his room he would accept its appearance; then and only then would he give it any attention. If not taken to his room Ianto would ignore it.

"I added another puzzle to your blackboard. I think you'll find this one a real challenge," he added as he now sat down to just watch Ianto. He smiled; Tosh had sent him up something to really get him thinking, it was one of many of increasing complexity as they tried to determine the limit of his ability as well as give him something to think about.

He had sat back to watch him garden gazing many times trying to put himself inside his head. He had spoken to Dr Green about it, said his best guess was Ianto had been held in a dark enclosed place where he could not see the outside, and now he could all he wanted was to be outdoors. Jack had tried and failed to convince the staff to allow him to do just that, but they had refused point blank. In his current state he could take off and where would they be then? He was safe in here and he could see out.

Jack was not convinced so he had started to bring the outside into the unit, starting with a few small plants brought in and left in his dayroom. Ianto tended them with great care, and made sure they had enough light and water. He also enjoyed the flowers Jack brought on a regular basis, staring in wonderment at their colours and smell. He did this seemingly un-observed, and if he thought anyone was looking he dropped his interest immediately.

Afternoon Tea was handed out. Ianto moved across to the table and sat down where a juice and two plain biscuits were put before him. Jack watched his arms crossed as he now understood Carl's comments from the first day. Ianto had a routine; a routine that could contain no variance. The same things had to be done to the second every day. This included food. There was a seven day cycle for food: breakfast, lunch and dinner. Compounding this was the need to make sure each meal was exactly as recalled. If it was mince and mashed potatoes with peas being served there had to be two scoops of mashed potatoes, a mess of watery mince and exactly 26 peas which Ianto counted out. It meant feeding him was a nightmare.

Ianto should be on a special diet to boost his weight and to improve his overall health. The hospital was only too willing to provide this, but the first week here had seared into his mind what should appear at each meal and nothing could persuade him to change it. What was so baffling to Jack was that some of the things Ianto was eating he loathed with a passion. Take tuna for example; tinned tuna was something he abhorred, along the terrible powered orange drink provided. And yet if on Wednesday lunch time a white bread tuna sandwich spread with margarine and complete with beaker of sickly sweet orange juice did not appear on a red plastic plate at exactly twelve minutes past twelve midday all hell broke loose.

Being witness to one of Ianto's tantrums had scared him. Ianto really lost it and it surprised him and he told Geoff Green that Ianto was not one for such pettiness. Geoff had explained it was about Ianto feeling he had some control in his life, what he ate had become part of his desperate need for predictability. It was also possible from what Jack had told him that Ianto was already predicated to needing control and order in his environment. He was a careful man who had taken a great deal of pleasure in getting things exactly right. Here Ianto had no control at all; keeping that in mind his reaction wasn't that out of order.

Once you understood this need for predictability then some of his other behaviours became clear, his fascination with number puzzles for example. Jack and Geoff had both been standing in front of the blackboard in Ianto's dayroom as they pondered his ability that very afternoon.

"How does he do it?" Jack had asked as he saw the answer to the equation on the board from the day before.

"I think it's proof his mathematical intelligence is unaffected," Geoff told him. "Did he show much talent in this area before?" he asked

Jack shook his head. "I never saw any evidence. Could this be an effect of the brain damage?" Jack asked.

"I can't answer that. This could be a latent talent, or something he has always been able to do. I think it comes back to the need for reliability; one plus one always equals two. But this is beyond the basics," he commented looking at the equation on the board. "What is astounding is he figures it out in his head and just writes his answer up. Longest time so far is eleven minutes."

"Where did you get this one?" Jack asked looking at the complex equation and answer scrawled underneath.

"Beth Roberts is a doctor in one of the other units who loves math. We told her about Ianto and she gave us a whole book of them," Geoff replied.

Jack pulled at his lower lip. "I have a staff member, Toshiko Sato, who has a master degree in applied physics, and she told me that even she would have difficulty working out an equation like this in her head."

"It's a puzzle," Geoff admitted as their conversation turned to Ianto's obsession with jigsaw puzzles. Geoff explained they could be assembled and one piece fitting into another exactly the same every time. Although he had to admit they only gave him new ones now as he had become very upset when he couldn't find the last piece or pieces, which was true of many of the puzzles left behind in the dayroom by previous residents. The first puzzle had taken hours and on finding he couldn't complete it he had thrown the table containing the puzzle in frustration across the room. Even now Carl always got a bit stressed as the last few pieces were put together in recollection and anticipation of a major outburst.

The only variance was his drawings which lately had taken on more form. It was clear the grey object and small blue object were of great significance. He was sure there was a connection between them and Ianto's endless night searches. He was looking for something, but what?

Jack had looked at Geoff in a whole new light after this conversation and taken a greater step to understanding exactly where Ianto was and the care the staff were taking over a very damaged and difficult patient.

He walked over and kissed Ianto on the top of his head as he drank down the last remaining dregs form his beaker.

"See you tomorrow," he told him kindly.

Ianto watched the man leave as he grimaced at the sickly tang of the drink. He didn't quite know what to make of him. He wasn't a guard. He smelt good and brought him things that were interesting. The puzzle he had left today had really made him think; it had taken a whole half an hour before he had the answer. The clocked ticked over; time to look at his books. He glanced around, stood up, glanced around, sidled over, flicked his eyes around, snatched up the book and took it to his room.

Carl cleared up after him and watched with interest. He was not sure if even Ianto had realised it but for the first time he had done something he had never done before: he had taken something to his room rather than wait until it was taken and left there. Ianto might think he was unobserved but he had not taken his eyes off the book the whole time he was eating. He smiled; it looked like Captain Jack might be having an effect after all. He was surprised at his persistence; he turned up here every day for weeks without fail at two pm. He often brought something interesting for Ianto; he took an active role in his care where possible or just stood with him keeping him company, and despite a very bad beginning had come to terms how the unit was run. There were aspects he did not approve of but didn't want to cause any problems for the people who cared for the man he loved.

Flicking his eyes warily around the room Ianto watched to make sure he was unnoticed. His eyes kept coming back to the book on the chair. He could see a machine on the front; he was not sure what it was but the word motorbike came into his mind. From what he could see a motorbike had only two wheels and he wanted to know how it remained upright in the picture.

This could be a trick, but the nice man who smelt good had brought it. He said it was for him, but it could be a deception, to make him drop his guard. So far the man had never hurt him and brought him nice things from outside like his plants and the flowers that smelt so nice and jigsaw puzzles. He stood with him every day and looked into the garden. He wondered what he wanted.

Looking around he saw there was only Mad Mike in the corner talking to the guard. His heart beating wildly he snatched the book and headed to his dayroom. Entering the room he paused at the blackboard, glanced over and saw a new equation. Picking up the chalk he wrote out the answer. He wasn't sure why his captors wanted him to do this but better play along. He could never let on how much he enjoyed the maths puzzles because if they found out, that would be the end of that. He looked at the clock and felt his stomach clench in dread. The day guards would be going soon and then he would be taken for questioning.

He looked across at the nice guard, who spoke to him gently and only hurt him sometimes. He wondered if he should tell them about what happened to him at night but dismissed the idea. He must already know because he had seen him talking to the night guards and he felt a shiver of despair as he realised how was trapped he was.

Moving to his chair he sat down and he opened the book to the first page. He took a deep breath to remain calm, as he felt panic rising. Why had he taken it? If they knew what he liked they would only find some way of punishing him and taking it away or worse: turn his enjoyment in some new torment. Maybe he could have a quick look and put it back before anyone noticed it was gone. He looked at the first page and saw it was a cutaway where all the internal workings were exposed and he could see how they all fitted together, each part like a giant puzzle, he found he couldn't take his eyes of the page….

He felt a deep rumpling and saw a flash. He dropped the book as his worse fears were realised. They knew he had taken the book and were coming to punish him. He cried out involuntarily as the room around him dissolved and he found himself back in his cell on the Valiant.

His mind screamed out as the guards came towards him. He tried to plead with his eyes but he knew they would show no mercy. He could feel the engines rumble and vibrate the floor as he tried to back away from them. He tripped, fell backwards and hit his head on the wall, jarring his jaw.

One of the guards reached out grabbed his arm and he struggled against them. Falling to the ground, he tried to press himself to the floor. He stiffened up in an effort to make it impossible to move him but the nice guard was laying on him and had a syringe in his hand.

He fought tooth and nail to stop them because the drug stopped his ability to fight back. In seconds all his strength would be gone so he fought with every ounce of muscle he had. His heart pounded as he jabbered at them and struggled only to find his face pressed into the floor and his arm locked into his back. In a final effort he drew on his remaining strength before it leaked away. He threw them off and managed to get away, running headlong into the main door, smashing into it.

Stunned, he fell backwards, hitting the floor as the guards threw themselves on top of him. Writhing he felt himself being manhandled, and dragged forward. He threw his head back and went limp to become a dead weight. He saw the room, as the full force of the drug hit him and he felt his strength leave. He knew why they had destroyed his resistance because he had fought back in the beginning. Now he had no hope; it would be agony and humiliation. He prayed to die as they belted him into the position and all he could do was scream for the torment to come.