When Ianto told him good night, he'd looked up and around, and turned into the gun's muzzle. For the one split-second before Ianto fired his eyes were wild, surprised and some complicated mixture between pissed off and relieved.
Then they were just dead.
With the sheer amount of trauma done to his body, he wasn't going to be coming around fast.
For the moment though, the baby was very much alive. Wide blue eyes, five fingers and toes, a thick head full of brown hair and covered in Jack's blood, screaming his head off at the shock of cold air. He looked, frankly, very human.
Except for how very alert and aware his eyes were. Any real examination and the illusion of humanity would fall down. Superfically, though. He was a squawling, flailing, baby boy.