Ianto wished he could say he was doing as well as Owen seemed to think he was, but the doctor's grip on his hand was the only thing keeping him from panicking. As it was, his eyes were darting about nervously, quickly moving away whenever anyone seemed to be staring at him, and his free hand was shaky, fingers tapping out the beat of the drums against his leg.
"Wish they wouldn't stare," he muttered to himself, hating the looks. He wasn't used to so many people. It was putting him ill at ease and he just wanted to run away from all of this, back into the house where it was safe and quiet. But Owen would be disappointed, and he didn't want that, so he continued on beside the doctor, trying to keep his anxiety from showing.