Author's Note: Torchwood is owned by the BBC. Spoilers for Series One.

Ianto had wondered before how it would feel to be shot, in fact the thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion.

The first time had been when he had joined Torchwood One. Weeks of personality tests, mental exams, interviews and endurance tests had led Ianto to being assigned to the Archives. On his first day Ianto had been startled when his supervisor had pressed a gun into his hand, along with his ID card and told him that basic training was about to begin.

"I won't need this will I?" Ianto had asked. "I'm not a field operative."

Frank had just smiled and replied, "you never know what you'll come up against in this job kid."

Until that moment Ianto had never thought about how powerful a gun is and was surprised at the tremors from the recoil that travelled down his arm, as he took his first shot. He was mildly disturbed to note that no matter how long he held the weapon, the metal remained cold.

Only then did Ianto think about how it would feel to be shot and even then he couldn't really imagine it.

-TW-

The second time Ianto had considered being shot was during the Battle of Canary Wharf. He saw Daleks exterminate innocent people with a powerful beam and Cybermen electrocute their victims using only their hands. He could smell the singing of clothes and blistering of skin as each victim fell and felt sick to his stomach. Only the thought of Lisa prevented him from running.

-TW-

The third time Ianto thought about being shot came quickly after the second. As he pulled Lisa's heavy, broken body from the wreckage of their workplace, he was constantly looking around. After seeing what the UNIT soldiers had done to another partially converted victim he knew that he wouldn't be getting any help. So instead he looked out for soldiers that would stop him as he removed what they saw as an alien threat from the burning building. As Ianto pulled the love of his life with all his strength and looked down at her tear streaked face, her mouth closed tightly and twisted in agony, he knew that he would take a bullet for her.

-TW-

Ianto had truly believed that he would be executed when the team had found Lisa. As Jack pressed the gun against the back of his head in the Tourism Office and demanded that he executed her, Ianto prepared himself for death.

Even after it was all over and he was sobbing over the bodies of Lisa and Annie, Ianto still expected Jack to follow through on his threat and execute him. He couldn't understand why Jack had spared him but soon realised that his punishment was surviving, because surely living with the grief and guilt was more painful than being shot.

-TW-

When Ianto had shot Owen, trying to stop him from opening the Rift, he hadn't considered how it would hurt the medic. He was just focused on saving the world because, although he wanted Toshiko and Jack back, he knew that nothing good could come from opening the Rift.

Watching Owen struggle to tend to his wound, Ianto couldn't imagine how it felt to have a bullet tear through your flesh.

After Jack had left them to travel with the Doctor and the team had to work harder than ever to control the volatile Rift; Ianto watched as Owen struggled for weeks with the stiffness and pain in his shoulder. The younger man tried to picture the damage he had inflicted on his teammate and the scar that he had left behind, a constant reminder of the madness that Bilis Manger had caused.

-TW-

Now, months later and lying slumped in an alleyway, Ianto could truly understand the sheer agony that came from being shot. The bite of pain as the bullet travelled through his skin, splintering bone and burning through muscle. Shaky hands clamped down on the wound and tried to stem the flow of still warm blood leaking through his clothes but it still spilt over his fingers. Ianto's mouth slammed shut and he grit his teeth as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he fought to remain conscious as pain exploded in waves over his body.

Ianto began to panic and fear settled like an oppressive weight on his chest. He was alone, the team scattered around and nobody knew that the blowfish was armed. For the moment nobody would come looking for him and he couldn't move his hands to activate his comm. link. He couldn't even warn his teammates, let alone call for help.

Ianto tried to huff a laugh but it was too much effort. He always knew that he would die working for Torchwood but he had always hoped it would be a glorious death, saving the world, stopping an invasion, having a mind blowing orgasm courtesy of Jack when he was in his late seventies...

Tears began to form in Ianto's eyes as he thought of his lover. Would Jack remember him? Mourn him? How long would it take for another to take his place in Jack's bed, days? Weeks? Months?

A sudden wave of anger momentarily strengthened Ianto and he called gruffly, "help! Help me please!"

No answering call came, no heavy footsteps indicated that Jack was running towards him and Ianto was angry at the injustice of it all. He was supposed to save the world and instead his death certificate was going to show that he died in a grubby alleyway in Splott of all places, chasing after a coked up blowfish with a penchant for stealing expensive cars.

A whimper broke through his lips and Ianto's vision began to dull. It became harder to hold onto his thoughts and even though he knew that he shouldn't, Ianto closed his eyes as he felt the need to sleep. He couldn't remember why he needed to stay awake; his body felt too heavy, too racked in pain and he finally slipped into the peaceful embrace of unconsciousness.

He didn't even register the crackle of his comm. and Jack's voice saying urgently, "Ianto?"